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Elijah leaned back, his gaze piercing Peter's. “How about you sell us the cemetery?”Shocked, Peter blinked. “Sell… the cemetery?” Bartholomew nodded. “Name your price. We won’t negotiate. Whatever you think this land and the graves is worth, we’ll pay it.” Peter’s breath caught in his throat and his mind raced with speed. Theis was an offer he couldn’t refuse. "Instead of being responsible for anything that happens to the graves, I rather ask for a huge sum of money and relocate to the Maldives."A slow, nervous smile crept onto his face knowing that no amount of money would sound too big for the Schwarzengers. “Then… I suppose I should write down the price?” A sharp intentional grin crossed Elijah's lips. “Exactly," he muttered happily.Bartholomew slid the checkbook closer to Peter “Any amount you wish, Mr. Peter August." He said, feeling charismatic.Peter hesitated only a second before reaching for the pen
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Peter August’s hands trembled as he finally tucked in his shirt, his face still flushed with humiliation. He swallowed hard before mustering the courage to speak. “Y..yes, I’m Peter August,” he stammered, his voice hoarse. “But who the hell are you people? And how did you get past the security guards to badge in here?” Before Elijah could respond, Peter’s eyes suddenly narrowed, studying Elijah’s face with growing recognition. His lips parted in disbelief as he spoke with excitement. “Wait… you look familiar,” he muttered, taking a hesitant step forward. His eyes widened. “You’re… the son of the wealthiest man in Futuriux! The one standing with him on the balcony of the Schwarzenger Global Inc. tower when...when that assassination attempt happened!” "Finally, someone recognizes me."Elijah exhaled softly under his breath, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. Though, of course, it had to be tied to that horrific incident. “Thank goodness,” he murmured dryly before st
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The following day, the sound of rotor blades filled the air as two Schwarzenger helicopters landed directly in the graveyard where Aaron's parents were buried in Heralzia. The rotors had barely come to a stop when Elijah, along with one of his trusted butlers, Bartholomew and two other guards, stepped out."Fly the choppers immediately to a nearby hangar. We shouldn't be disrespecting the dead," Elijah instructed the pilots before walking away to locate the tombstones of Aaron's parents."I'll make a call once we're set to move, so you shouldn't fly far," Bartholomew said, speaking into his walkie-talkie before joining Elijah.He didn’t walk far before he noticed two tombstones that were identical. His eyes immediately went to the engravings, which read: Late Kellyman and Late Abigail Kellyman.He called out to Elijah, who was still searching for the graves. "My lord!" he shouted, not disguising the urgency in his voice. "I think I found them, sir!"“You did!?” Elijah exclaimed excite
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The lead guard stood just outside looking sharp, his helmet under one arm and his dossier in the other. “My lord,” he greeted, bowing his head. Elijah stepped aside. “Come in. And I hope you brought good answers.” "Yes, my lord." He said and saluted Elijah, who had sunk into a couch. "I made very sure I got all the information relating to him." "Nice, please sit and tell me what you've got." Elijah nodded and gestured for the guard to sit." Ignoring Elijah's gestures to him, the guard proceeded to speak while still standing. "After..." "You didn't hear me when I told you to sit, right?" Elijah interrupted, letting out a low sigh of frustration. A sinking feeling overwhelmed the guard as he mumbled under his breath and buried his stare into the floor. "We dare not sit in front of Lord Schwarzenger or look at him in the eye, my Lord. No one dared to, not even me...your ordinary subject." Amused, Elijah released a loud chuckle. "The last time I checked, I'm Lord Schwarzenger and I.
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In the estate infirmary, Maestro sat up on a regal velvet-lined recliner, his left arm bandaged and resting in a silk sling. The sterile scent of antiseptic still filled in the air.The walls were lined with gold-framed paintings, the floor covered in thick Persian rugs, and the ceiling hosted a chandelier that could rival the one in the ballroom.“You look like a mafia uncle in a five-star rehab,” Elijah joked as he stepped in.Maestro looked up from the tablet in his hand, a wry smile forming on his lips. “And you look like a Schwarzenger's war general who needs a vacation, sir."They chuckled briefly, but the tension was quick to return immediately. Elijah moved to the side chair, sinking into it with a long sigh. “We need to talk.”Maestro nodded. “I was already thinking the same, my lord. That's why I asked to see you."Elijah leaned forward. "I think by now, you should know who sent that message because we already can assume we knew who shot the gun."Maestro’s smile faded insta
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Hmmrphh. Elijah was jolted awake by a cacophony of noise filtering through the high windows of his opulent mansion. With a low grumble, he squinted at the ornate gold clock that hung on the wall, its hands mocking him as they ticked steadily forward. The ruckus outside clawed at his nerves, sending him spiraling back to the gunshot he had heard just the day before. Heart racing, he sprang from his bed and staggered to the window, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios."I think I need to get a gun license," he muttered, apprehension flooding his thoughts at the possibility of another attack. When he pulled back the heavy curtains and scanned the estate surroundings however, he was met not with chaos but an eerie calm. A cluster of Schwarzenger's guards had surrounded a single man, who looked utterly terrified, his wide eyes darting between the imposing figures. Without a second thought, he bolted downstairs, shirtless with urgency propelling him forward.Elijah burst through the t
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