“I’m not talking about the furnishings, Millie,” Fran said as she walked toward Addison’s private office. “I’m talking about her life.”

Fran winced as she quietly opened the door, holding her breath as she peered through the crack. The hand-woven Persian carpet was littered with shards of pottery, and as Fran stepped inside, she was careful not to grind any of the ceramic into the wool fibers of the intricately designed rug. Across the room, Addison stood in front of the credenza filling a glass with scotch, and by the shattered pieces of crystal amidst the multi-colored remains of sculptures and vases covering the floor, Fran assumed the glass in Addison’s hand wasn’t the first she had held since returning to the office.

***

Addison Kane was the president of Kane Holdings, a company that had been in her family for over three hundred years. It had begun as a tiny trading business, bartering for land and product, and as the decades passed it had slowly grown. Land bought for only a few pence had been sold for thousands of pounds and investments made on the new and unusual turned into gold mines. Visionaries, the founding fathers of Kane Holdings had been able to sit back and count their coin as the upper-class scrambled for chronometers, mechanical pencils, sewing machines, and perambulators. The money rolled in, and for over a century, although the company continued to dabble in real estate and innovations, for the most part, it was kept afloat by the interest earned.

Upon graduating Oxford with a bachelor’s degree in Economics and Management, Addison was welcomed at Kane Holdings with open arms by her grandfather, Xavier Kane. His ancestors’ vision had been passed down to him, and under Xavier’s leadership, the company had begun to grow again. Unfortunately, the family’s keen business sense had skipped a generation. The company had never held his son Oliver’s interest. His biggest accomplishment was just getting to the office on time, but Addison seemed to thrive in the ways of the company. Spending her days at her grandfather’s side, she absorbed every word Xavier spoke, every lesson he taught, and every trick he knew...and at night, she learned even more.

Sequestered in a room located at the end of a very long and dismal hallway, while the other occupants of the house slept, Addison did not. Behind a meager desk atop which was a lamp with a green shade, she’d sit in silence, poring over financial newspapers, business journals, and market studies. Riveted by what they contained, she’d watch trends, analyzing growth and eyeing companies on the cutting edge until the wee hours of the morning, and when it was time to return to work, she’d spend hours interrogating her grandfather in the ways of business until eventually, he threw up his hands.