“Charlie Grant! Are you even listening?”The lecturer’s voice echoed through the wide, air-conditioned lecture hall of York University. Heads turned, eyes darting at him. Charlie blinked, realizing everyone was staring. His heart thudded. He muttered a faint apology and tried to look composed, but inside, his mind was a storm.The professor’s words were flying over his head like dust in the wind. His thoughts were miles away—buried deep in chaos and worry. The first wave of anxiety came crashing through: three assignments. He had been paid already but hadn’t done any of them. Jacob Brown and his rich friends had hired him to ghostwrite their papers, and those boys were not known for patience. They were cruel when disrespected, and Charlie knew exactly how cruel.He ran his trembling fingers through his hair, his pen shaking between his fingers. “I can’t screw this up again,” he whispered under his breath.But that was only the beginning of his torment. The second thought wave hit—ha

When Charlie came to, everything was white—the sheets, the ceiling, the nurse’s uniform. His head throbbed faintly. The nurse noticed his eyes flutter open and smiled softly.“You fainted,” she said, her voice calm, practiced. “After hearing about your mother.”The words reopened the wound he’d hoped was a nightmare. His throat felt dry as sandpaper. “She’s… she’s gone?”The nurse nodded, her eyes heavy with pity.The door opened, and the doctor walked in with a somber look. “Mr. Grant,” he said, “I’m sorry. We did everything we could. If only you’d gotten the money…”Charlie turned his face away, his chest hollow. He didn’t want to hear the doctor’s rehearsed sympathy. The fault wasn’t his—it was theirs: his father’s greed, his stepmother’s malice. He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. ‘One day,’ he thought, ‘I’ll make them regret everything they’ve done.’The doctor, unaware of the storm in Charlie’s eyes, reached into his coat pocket and handed him a folde

The silence in the car was thick and unsettling. The man who had introduced himself earlier as Mr. White sat beside Charlie, his posture straight, his eyes forward. His calm, almost reverent demeanor only deepened the mystery that consumed Charlie’s mind.Finally, Charlie couldn’t hold it anymore. “Sir… who are you, exactly?”The man turned to him, his voice low but warm. “My name is Joseph White, Young Master. I am the butler of the Maxwell family. I have served them all my life—and now, I serve you.”“Serve… me?” Charlie frowned, disbelief written across his face. “What do you mean by that, sir?”Joseph smiled slightly. “Please, address me by my first name, Joseph. You are technically my master now.”Charlie blinked in shock. “Your master? How? I don’t understand.”Joseph adjusted his tie before speaking again. “Your mother, Lady Claire, called home before she passed. She told her father—your grandfather, George Maxwell—that she was sending her son to take over in her place. From th

The city lights shimmered against the tinted windows of Charlie’s Lamborghini La Voiture Noire as he rolled into the boulevard. The roar of the $50 million engine made heads turn. Even in the city of giants, this car was a god among machines.He parked at the VVIP parking lot, where only the wealthiest clients of the exclusive fashion store were allowed. The valet bowed and pointed at the platinum-plated sign: “Parking Fee—$100,000.”Charlie didn’t flinch. Twenty-four hours ago, that number could have made him sleepless. Now, it was dust—no, smaller than dust compared to what sat in his account. He dropped the key and walked in casually, the crowd already murmuring at the sight of the legendary car.As Charlie entered the store, the glass doors hissed open—and just then, someone rammed into him so hard he stumbled and fell flat on the polished marble. The thud echoed sharply, drawing attention.The man who bumped into him—a tall stranger in his late twenties—looked down at him with di

The air around the parking lot was thick with tension as Salvatore approached Charlie, his men flanking him on both sides like a pack of wolves closing in on prey. The afternoon sun burned down, glinting off the metal chains around their necks and the smirks on their faces.“Charlie,” Salvatore growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve been avoiding us. Your debt was due twenty-four hours ago. We’ve been searching for you.”Charlie looked calm, almost amused. “I’m aware,” he said. “I wasn’t on campus for a while.”Salvatore’s expression darkened. “You dare to default on my loan and talk back? Do you want me to squash you right here unless you pay up—with interest?”Charlie’s lips curved into a faint smile. ‘How funny.’ Twenty-four hours ago, he had been the one kneeling and begging. But now? He could buy Salvatore—and his entire bloodline—with a single swipe of his card and it won’t even make a dent.Before Salvatore could reply, a mocking laugh echoed across the lot.Mr. Wonderfu