Ethan lay on his bed, one hand behind his head, the other holding his phone to his ear. His room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of his bedside lamp. Rain tapped rhythmically against the windows. “Have you checked again?” he asked, voice low. “I’ve checked, like, every hour,” Iva replied from the other end of the line. Her tone was dry, but beneath it was a nervous current. “Still nothing. No update from Briar University. I’m starting to think they lost my application or something.” Ethan smiled faintly. “They didn’t. You’re just impatient.” “Impatient? Ethan, this is the school I’ve dreamed of since I was twelve. I wrote my essay four times and made my uncle read it twice. I’m allowed to be a little impatient.” “You’re getting in. If Briar has any sense at all, they’ll be lucky to have you.” There was a pause on the line. Then she said quietly, “What about you? Still nothing from Stoxford?” He sighed, eyes flicking toward his untouched laptop. “Still nothing.” Bef

Since starting university, Ethan and Iva had gradually drifted apart. They rarely spoke anymore—each consumed by the demands of their personal lives and new environments. Though they reached out occasionally, their bond no longer held the closeness it once had in high school. Meanwhile, Laura had managed to grow close to Ethan. Over time, they developed a genuine friendship. Seeing their connection deepen, Liam—though reluctant at first—decided to play along, realizing he didn’t have much of a choice. The three of them became a familiar trio, though a subtle rivalry brewed beneath the surface. Ethan wasn’t trying to compete, but Liam couldn’t help viewing him as competition. The grand foyer of the Richardson home echoed with elegance—gleaming marble floors, tall arched windows, and the ever-present scent of imported lilies Anna insisted on every week. It was mid-afternoon, and the estate was quiet, save for the soft click of Laura’s designer heels approaching. Anna Richardson, r

The Richardson estate was quiet that morning—not silent, but expectant. Birdsong filled the garden. The scent of roses and fresh-cut grass drifted through the open windows. But inside, there was an unmistakable shift in the air, the kind of pressure that builds just before a storm. At precisely 9 a.m., the housekeeper informed all family members that Henry and Steph had summoned everyone to the Oak Room. No reason was given. But when Steph called a meeting—especially in that room—the Richardson’s knew better than to ignore it. Ethan was the first to arrive. Dressed in a simple navy button-down and grey trousers, he greeted the staff with his usual warmth. But behind his eyes was curiosity—no one had mentioned anything about an estate meeting. Next came Liam, shoulders squared, expression tight. Dressed sharper than necessary in a three-piece suit, he walked past Ethan without a word, though Ethan offered a polite nod. The tension between them hadn’t dissipated since the Rita i

The grand hall of Richardson Tower shimmered with quiet tension. Crystal chandeliers bathed the marble floor in fractured light, but even their brilliance couldn’t outshine the sense of anticipation rippling through the crowd. Outside, the pulse of the city was reduced to a whisper by thick velvet drapes. Inside, power hummed in the air like static before a storm. This wasn’t just a company event—it was history being written. Guests whispered behind champagne flutes. Influential shareholders, industry titans, influential business magnates, long-time friends of the family and hand-picked media elites mingled under the ornate ceiling, their gazes flickering toward the stage at the front of the room. Reporters, stationed discreetly at the edges, adjusted their lenses. Already, the subtle click of cameras had begun, each flash a silent vote cast in the unfolding drama. Among the glittering guests stood Laura with her parents—poised, regal, and clearly enjoying the spotlight. She looked

The empire was already built—flawless on paper, globally recognized, and enviably stable. It didn’t need saving. But Ethan didn’t come to save it. He came to elevate it. In just two years since assuming leadership, Ethan didn’t just maintain the empire's trajectory—he shattered ceilings no one had even noticed were there. His innovations were bold, precise, and grounded in deep analysis. He identified international markets others deemed too volatile. He streamlined operations, slashing inefficiencies without ever touching a single job. He introduced AI-backed systems into traditional frameworks, blending modernity with legacy in a way that felt inevitable. And through it all, Iva was by his side—not merely as an assistant, but as a co-strategist, often two steps ahead of problems before they had names. Together, they were a force: Ethan, with his uncanny clarity and unwavering integrity; Iva, with her silent genius and disarming grace. Their synergy didn’t just preserve