Chapter 117 Inside Louise's Mind

• The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Louise Lacroix shuffled into the visitor’s lounge, the stillness of the room a rare comfort. The polished wood of the cane in his hand gleamed faintly in the dim light, its tap against the tile a sharp counterpoint to the silence. He settled into the worn leather chair, his weary body sinking into it with a sigh. His reflection in the glass was a ghost of a man—pale, gaunt, a shadow of the power he once wielded. But his mind remained sharp, still a force to be reckoned with.
• As he stared out the window at the bustling city below, his thoughts turned inward, a familiar game of strategy playing out in his mind. The Lacroix empire—his legacy—was his greatest triumph. And like any great strategist, he viewed those around him not as family, but as pieces on a chessboard. Every move, every sacrifice, had been for this—power, control, dominance.
• The echoes of past decisions reverberated in his mind, each one etched deeply into his memory. He thought of his sons—Henry, Elliot, Victor—and the myriad mistakes they had made. Every one of them had failed to meet the standard, their weaknesses a glaring reminder of why only the strong survived in his world.