Influential figures from across the country streamed into the grand Richardson estate, their luxury cars lining the private driveway like a parade of status. They had come for the funeral of Grandpa Smith, a man whose legacy stretched far beyond the family name. He was the kind of person who left a mark on everyone he encountered—generous, wise, and deeply loved. People had flown across oceans not just to pay their respects, but to be seen doing so. The truth, however, was more layered. Many of the dignitaries weren’t there solely out of reverence. The Richardson estate was legendary for its opulent gatherings, and this one—despite being a funeral—was no exception. Deals would be struck, alliances formed, and no one wanted to miss an opportunity cloaked in mourning. Inside, domestic staff moved with grace and precision, weaving through the guests, trays of exotic hors d’oeuvres and vintage wine balanced in their hands. Soft orchestral music drifted through the garden, offering a tr

Winifred Hall was no ordinary venue. After Smith Hall, it was the most revered place within the Richardson estate—grand, luxurious, and soaked in decades of tradition. Hosting any event there was a statement. So, when news broke that Liam Richardson's birthday would be celebrated in Winifred Hall, the media exploded with speculation. Headlines flooded the press: “The Richardson's Golden Heir?” “Liam Shines in the Hall of Legacy” “From Funeral to Future—Is Liam the Next Richardson Patriarch?” The coverage painted Liam as the embodiment of grace and promise, a young man worthy of inheritance. And while the attention around Liam soared, so did whispers about Ethan—about his absence from the spotlight, his rumored moodiness, and his increasing reclusion after Grandpa Smith’s death. At the party, Anna Richardson stood like a queen surveying her court. She sparkled in a champagne-gold dress, mingling confidently with dignitaries and family friends, glass of wine in hand, her s

The Albert estate shimmered under the soft glow of evening lights. Domestic staff moved briskly, attending to tasks with quiet precision. In the east wing, Danielle—Laura’s mother—hosted a lavish dinner for her affluent friends, their laughter ringing like bells over clinking wine glasses. Meanwhile, their children were gathered at the west pavilion, enjoying their own semi-formal gathering. Lima nudged the woman beside her and subtly tilted her chin. “Look over there… Isn’t that Anna?” Flora followed her gaze and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, yes. She’s literally everywhere these days.” “She really is,” Lima said with a dry chuckle. “Word is, she’s been crawling around the social circuit, charming anyone she can.” “So cheap,” Flora scoffed, taking a delicate sip from her flute. “You’d never catch Steph groveling for approval like that. She doesn’t need to.” “Exactly. Steph doesn’t chase attention—it chases her. And everyone knows her son is the true heir.” Flora nodded. “Ethan is a bo

Ethan stood by his dresser, buttoning up his shirt as the early morning light filtered through the curtains. His backpack sat neatly on the bed, already packed and zipped. Just as he reached for his watch, a soft knock came at the door. “Come in," he called. The door creaked open and Liam stepped inside “Hey” “Watsup” Ethan replied, slipping the watch onto his wrist Don’t mess with Laura, Ethan,” Liam said firmly, standing at the entrance with his arms crossed. Ethan paused, taken aback. “Sorry?” he asked, shifting his gaze toward him, confusion flickering across his face. Liam didn’t move “you know what I mean” he smirked Ethan blinked, unsure how to respond. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken things. Anna’s voice echoed up the stairs “Liam, you don’t want to be late for school” Anna shouted from downstairs “Don’t mess with her” Liam muttered, turning away Ethan watched him go, the words still lingering in the air like smoke. ***** At school,

Laura stormed into the estate, slamming her designer handbag onto the marble console in the foyer. Her cheeks burned, her perfect curls slightly undone — and not by design. Danielle stood at the top of the staircase, arms folded like a judgment passed. "You said you'd handle it," Danny said coldly. "You said she didn’t stand a chance." Laura bit her lip. “I did everything you told me. Everything.” “Clearly, not enough.” Danny descended slowly, heels sharp against the steps. “You let that girl embarrass this family. Do you know how this makes us look?” Laura spun around. “I was running for school president, not a seat in Parliament! This wasn’t supposed to be about you.” Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Everything is about us, Laura. The Alberts don’t lose. And now, thanks to your carelessness, the entire school is laughing behind our backs.” Laura blinked back the tears, rage building in her throat. “She didn’t win because of me. She won because they were tired of you.” That stung. Dan