Richard sat in the back of the black luxury car, the city lights streaking by like fleeting memories, casting soft glows on the dark interior. His fingers tightened around the plush leather seat beneath him, each flash of a passing streetlamp punctuating the storm of thoughts in his head. Just a week ago, he had been nothing more than a faceless student, just another name in a crowd, a person tolerated only due to a favor owed. But now, everything had changed. Now, he was Richard Morgan—the heir to one of the wealthiest and most powerful empires in the country. The weight of his name had grown unbearably heavy, and with it came a crushing responsibility.But this revelation—this sudden transformation—was not the liberation he had imagined. Instead, it had come with a suffocating burden. His parents—his real parents—had been killed in a brutal revolt, their lives snuffed out by the very enemies who had now returned to haunt him. The grandfather who had been searching for him all these y

Richard exhaled slowly, his chest tightening with the weight of his grandfather's words. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions, each one crashing into the next. "You keep saying I need to accept being a Morgan, but what does that even mean?" His voice cracked slightly, a mix of frustration and desperation flooding through him. "Am I supposed to just forget everything I’ve been through with the Hamiltons? Forget about Amelia?"George’s eyes narrowed, his gaze hardening just slightly as he studied Richard. "The Hamiltons are insignificant compared to what you are now. They are part of a past that no longer matters." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Amelia..." He seemed to weigh his words, a rare moment of uncertainty crossing his face. "She is your wife, yes. But she will never understand what it means to be part of this world, and you know that."Richard’s jaw tightened, a flare of protective anger rising within him. "Amelia’s not like the rest of her family."Georg

Richard stood in the office, his mind swirling as the weight of the situation sank deeper into his chest. The meeting was quickly taking shape, but he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions just yet. There was something in the air—something that made him wary of rushing into anything.“Marcus, get me the outfit,” James instructed, his voice firm and decisive.Richard watched as Marcus rose from his seat and walked toward the wardrobe with swift movements. It was clear that James was in command, and Richard, despite his new position, still had to follow orders to some extent. The world he had stepped into required more than just leadership—it demanded precision, control, and a level of composure he wasn’t entirely used to yet.Marcus returned shortly with a suit—no ordinary suit. This was a luxurious garment, the kind that could change the way the world saw him. As he held the suit out to Richard, the fabric shimmered with wealth. This was a million-dollar suit, and everything about it scr

When Scarlett saw Richard’s tense expression, she wasted no time in advancing. With a flirtatious glance, she stepped closer to him, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Mr. Morgan, are you free tonight? My friend just bought me a bottle of red wine from France. Do you want to come to my house and try it?” she purred, her voice smooth and inviting.Richard’s breath hitched for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. There was no mistaking what Scarlett was after, and he knew better than to entertain this distraction. “There’s no need. I have something on tonight…” he replied firmly, his words crisp, though his mind was still frazzled by the lingering effects of their earlier interaction.But Scarlett wasn’t done. With a swift, almost predatory movement, she reached into Richard’s jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. Richard’s eyes widened in surprise as she casually dialed her number and handed the phone back to him with a sly smile. “Mr. Morgan, this is my number. Remember to c

Instead, the person who stepped out was the lobby manager of the Morgan Empire—Freya Davidson.Richard’s gaze landed on Freya, and for a brief moment, a flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He then shook his head, helplessly, and forced a bitter smile.“Miss Davidson, what are you doing here?”A trace of disappointment was evident on James’ face as he confronted Freya, his voice laced with anger.“Mr. James… I…”Freya’s voice trembled as she stammered, clearly unsettled by James’ sharp tone, and struggled to explain.“What is it?”James snapped, glaring at her, before continuing, “Didn’t I specifically tell you this morning that I have an important meeting? No one is allowed to interrupt us.”“Mr. James, I... I know it’s important, that’s why I came up…” Freya responded, her voice barely above a whisper.“What exactly are you doing here?”Harvey York, sensing Freya might be buying time for Richard, interrupted impatiently.Freya hesitated, stunned for a moment by Harvey’s outbur