Elijah Schwarzenger Rises To Power

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Two days later, in the morning, Elijah's polished black loafers tapped steadily against the glossy marble as he descended the last set of stairs in his mansion. He adjusted the cuffs of his deep navy turtleneck, dark suede jacket, and a silver timepiece on his wrist.

The sun had just peeked through the east-facing windows of the Schwarzenger estate, casting warm golden strips across the long corridor.

Just as he was about to open the front door, he heard a knock from the other side. “Lord Schwarzenger?” Maestro's voice called.

Elijah’s face lit up at the sound of Maestro's voice outside; he hadn’t seen him in over a week. He swiftly opened the massive oak door and instinctively pulled Maestro into a hug.

“Whoa,” Maestro chuckled, surprised by the warm welcome, and even more shocked because he hadn’t had time to bond well with Elijah. “Missed me that much, Master Eli? I didn’t expect such a welcome," he added, chuckling again warmly and bowing after the hug.

“I thought you’d been fired,” Elijah said, laughing widely.

“Not at all, sir. Sir Schwarzenger Jr. flew me out to deliver monthly packages to his younger brother, Master Pierce, in the States.”

Elijah stepped outside, shutting the door behind him and locking it with his diamond card, the board on the door blinking green. “Wait… what kind of package? What could Uncle Pierce possibly need that he can’t buy in America?”

They began walking across the stone-tiled courtyard, two silent guards watching from a distance.

“Gold cubes and some other valuable mineral resources,” Maestro replied casually, looking down as if it were something as ordinary as bottled water.

Elijah halted and frowned, a disdainful sneer on his lips. “Excuse me? What do you mean by gold? I don’t understand.”

Maestro gently patted him on the shoulder as they continued walking. “Yes, sir. Gold. Every month. Your dad makes sure a few kilos are wrapped and shipped privately to his mansion in Missouri.”

Elijah blinked, incredulous. “Gold?! I still don’t get it. Does my father owe him some sort of ancient blood debt or something?”

Maestro cleared his throat. “Not that I know of, sir. But he’s been doing it for years now, even before you were conceived. Personally, I think it’s just love, so I’ve never seen any reason to question it.”

Elijah’s mouth twisted in frustration. “That’s not love, Maestro. That’s wasteful, extravagant, and ridiculous waste. My dad and I need to discuss this.”

“Please, sir,” Maestro said nervously, his jaw tightening with worry. “Please don’t mention I told you. I don’t want Sir Schwarzenger thinking all I do is gossip around the mansion.”

Elijah laughed dryly, waving off Maestro's worry. “Even if he fires you, I’ll rehire you myself and double your salary. You’re safe.”

Maestro chuckled with relief, then cleared his throat again. “Bartholomew spoke to me. Tomorrow, we begin the transition tour. You’ll be visiting every key branch, office, and asset tied to the Schwarzenger legacy.”

Elijah nodded eagerly. “Finally! I’ve been itching for this.”

Maestro raised a brow, glancing at Elijah’s dressed-up appearance. “So where are you headed now? Dressed like a billionaire hosting a business talk.”

Elijah grinned and walked toward the garage where his Rolls-Royce Spectre was parked in solitude. “Nowhere in particular. I just felt like going out. It’s my first time in four weeks, so let’s just call it early morning fun.”

Maestro chuckled in confusion. “Early morning fun, sir? Should I stay back then? I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“Exactly. You read my mind. I’m broke and can’t afford to pay for food for two,” Elijah said as he approached the sleek Rolls-Royce, keys already in hand. The engine responded, blinking awake as it sensed his presence.

“Out of curiosity, sir,” Maestro called out, “why not try something else from the garage? You’ve got access to the Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut, Bugatti Chiron Super Sport, Aston Martin Valkyrie, Rimac Nevera… yet you still chose the Spectre?”

Elijah shrugged as he slid into the driver’s seat. “This one’s personal since I bought it myself. It’s my first time taking her out. We’ll flirt with the others later.”

The guards bowed deeply as the engine purred to life. Elijah adjusted his shades before gliding smoothly out through the estate gates.

Unknown to him, two sleek military-grade unmanned drones—SkyGuard Z9 and PhantomCore X2—silently rose from their perches atop the mansion’s surveillance tower. They hovered silently above Elijah’s vehicle, shadowing it like twin hawks across the blue morning sky.

As Elijah merged onto the city’s sleek highway, his stomach let out a low growl, causing him to chuckle. He tapped the dashboard lightly. “Spectre, find me a place to eat.”

The car’s AI responded smoothly, its voice cool and precise. “Would you like to narrow your search to five-star restaurants nearby?”

Elijah scoffed before grinning sheepishly, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket while keeping his hands on the steering wheel. “Are you kidding me right now? Do you even know who I am? I’m Elijah Schwarzenger, and I want a seven-star dining experience.”

A faint pause came from the dashboard before it beeped twice. “There is one option you may like, sir: The Xian Mirage, located within the hospitality district of San Dicevey. Estimated drive time: thirty minutes.”

Almost immediately, an illuminating map appeared on the dashboard, plotting his course to the marked destination. Elijah smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Perfect. Set the mood.”

Music surged through the car's speakers, filling the space with a blend of orchestral jazz and ambient bass. Elijah nodded in satisfaction as he pressed down on the accelerator.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the opulent San Dicevey Hospitality District, where the skyline shimmered with glass towers and platinum billboards. He came to a slow stop in front of the Xian Mirage 7-star restaurant, and his mouth parted slightly in awe.

The building loomed above him like a monument carved from diamonds and obsidian. Its exterior pulsed with reflective panels, golden beams, and sharp-cut edges that exuded wealth. The bold name stretched across the front in glowing capital letters, accompanied by a crest resembling the Schwarzenger logo.

He honked once, but there was no reply from inside the gate. Frustrated, he honked several more times. “What kind of joke is this?” he muttered, watching the massive gate remain locked.

Just as he was about to step out of the car, a lone security guard strolled out from the right booth, exuding a casual arrogance that immediately irritated Elijah. Instead of going to open the gate, the man walked straight to Elijah's window.

Elijah rolled down the glass with a raised brow. “You’re walking to me? Shouldn’t you be heading to that giant ass gate?”

Before the guard could respond, Elijah cut him off. “Don’t even start with excuses. I’ve been honking here like I’m ordering fast food.”

The security guard chuckled wickedly. “Calm down, big man. Nobody walks into The Xian Mirage just because they’re driving a luxury car. You have to be our verified client first. Shouting won’t help you. In fact...” He leaned in smugly, "...if you keep raising your voice, you might be the one getting bundled out.”

Elijah narrowed his eyes, frowning. “And you don’t think you’ll be the one getting fired?”

Elijah's confidence made the guard’s guard drop to the car emblem—the Rolls-Royce Spectre and he stiffened slightly, his jaw dropping in shock as his smirk faltered.

Elijah reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek black wallet, and held out the Schwarzenger access card between two fingers.

The moment the guard saw it, his mouth fell open. He expected Elijah to produce a premium client card made for their exclusive clients, but instead, he revealed a card he had always seen with the Xian Mirage C.M.D., Lord Schwarzenger Jr.

Seeing the guard's lack of response, Elijah leaned closer, his voice sharp and cutting. “Are you done staring, or should I spell it out for you? I’m hungry, please.”

The security guard blinked rapidly, struggling to find his words. “Sir, you’re... you’re related to Lord Schwarzenger?”

Elijah let out a sharp, amused chuckle as he casually flicked the card into the air. “You’re not blind, are you? I mean, you can read.”

The man jumped back, panic washing over his face as he quickly bowed twice. “I am terribly sorry, sir! I didn’t realize... Please, come in. I’ll get the gates open for you right away!”

Elijah shook his head with a smirk. “Should’ve thought of that five minutes ago,” he muttered, watching as the gates swung open in a perfect arc motion.