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Home / Urban / Elijah Schwarzenger Rises To Power / 0023
0023
Author: YEMII WRIITES
last update2025-07-31 19:52:24

The afternoon sun filtered through the half-drawn floral curtains of a modest bungalow in the inner part of San Futuro.

The air inside smelled of antiseptic, soft perfume, and ginger ointment—medicated comfort. A soft blanket covered Ruthila's mother, Isabella Kerr’s legs as she reclined on the small couch, recovering steadily after her long stay at the hospital.

Ruthila sat beside her, legs folded and eyes glued to her phone screen, idly scrolling through bridal hairstyles and minimalistic wedding gown ideas. A cup of chamomile tea sat untouched beside her as the low murmur of the television played in the background, the volume set to a conversational level.

Suddenly, Isabella's frail but curious voice cut through the quiet.

“Is that not Elijah on the TV…?” she asked, her tone mixed with awe and uncertainty. “That man in wine-colored suit… Isn’t that your Elijah?”

Ruthila’s head snapped up as if yanked by invisible strings. Her fingers trembled as her phone slipped slightly from her
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  • 0066

    Elijah leaned lazily against the polished mahogany counter, phone in hand as his thumbs glided across the glowing screen. The salesgirl’s cheap vanilla perfume tried to mask the exhaustion that clung faintly to the air while his detached reflection shimmered in the glass countertop. The double glass doors separating the waiting room and the main boutique parted, and Bartholomew strode in with measured confidence. Behind him, two guards pushed chrome trolleys piled high with garment bags and boxes, the branded luxury logos shouting money. "My lord," Bartholomew’s proud tone carried caution as he halted a few feet away. "Do you love these… or should we pick other ones?" Elijah slid his phone into his inner pocket and turned, his icing gaze flying to the trolleys. "Hmmm. I can’t come all the way from San Dicevey to the capital just for scraps. The most important thing is Naomi. Did you get a gown? Exactly her size and beautiful enough for her that she will love?" Bartholomew’

  • 0066

    Elijah leaned lazily against the polished mahogany counter, phone in hand as his thumbs glided across the glowing screen. The salesgirl’s cheap vanilla perfume tried to mask the exhaustion that clung faintly to the air while his detached reflection shimmered in the glass countertop. The double glass doors separating the waiting room and the main boutique parted, and Bartholomew strode in with measured confidence. Behind him, two guards pushed chrome trolleys piled high with garment bags and boxes, the branded luxury logos shouting money. "My lord," Bartholomew’s proud tone carried caution as he halted a few feet away. "Do you love these… or should we pick other ones?" Elijah slid his phone into his inner pocket and turned, his icing gaze flying to the trolleys. "Hmmm. I can’t come all the way from San Dicevey to the capital just for scraps. The most important thing is Naomi. Did you get a gown? Exactly her size and beautiful enough for her that she will love?" Bartholomew’

  • 0066

    Elijah leaned lazily against the polished mahogany counter, phone in hand as his thumbs glided across the glowing screen. The salesgirl’s cheap vanilla perfume tried to mask the exhaustion that clung faintly to the air while his detached reflection shimmered in the glass countertop. The double glass doors separating the waiting room and the main boutique parted, and Bartholomew strode in with measured confidence. Behind him, two guards pushed chrome trolleys piled high with garment bags and boxes, the branded luxury logos shouting money. "My lord," Bartholomew’s proud tone carried caution as he halted a few feet away. "Do you love these… or should we pick other ones?" Elijah slid his phone into his inner pocket and turned, his icing gaze flying to the trolleys. "Hmmm. I can’t come all the way from San Dicevey to the capital just for scraps. The most

  • 0065

    Elijah leaned lazily against the polished mahogany counter, phone in hand as his thumbs glided across the glowing screen. The salesgirl’s cheap vanilla perfume tried to mask the exhaustion that clung faintly to the air while his detached reflection shimmered in the glass countertop. The double glass doors separating the waiting room and the main boutique parted, and Bartholomew strode in with measured confidence. Behind him, two guards pushed chrome trolleys piled high with garment bags and boxes, the branded luxury logos shouting money. "My lord," Bartholomew’s proud tone carried caution as he halted a few feet away. "Do you love these… or should we pick other ones?" Elijah slid his phone into his inner pocket and turned, his icing gaze flying to the trolleys. "Hmmm. I can’t come all the way from San Dicevey to the capital just for scraps. The most important thing is Naomi. Did you get a gown? Exactly her size and beautiful enough for her that she will love?" Bartholomew’

  • 0064

    Elijah leaned lazily against the polished mahogany counter, phone in hand as his thumbs glided across the glowing screen. The salesgirl’s cheap vanilla perfume tried to mask the exhaustion that clung faintly to the air while his detached reflection shimmered in the glass countertop. The double glass doors separating the waiting room and the main boutique parted, and Bartholomew strode in with measured confidence. Behind him, two guards pushed chrome trolleys piled high with garment bags and boxes, the branded luxury logos shouting money. "My lord," Bartholomew’s proud tone carried caution as he halted a few feet away. "Do you love these… or should we pick other ones?" Elijah slid his phone into his inner pocket and turned, his icing gaze flying to the trolleys. "Hmmm. I can’t come all the way from San Dicevey to the capital just for scraps. The most important thing is Naomi. Did you get a gown? Exactly her size and beautiful enough for her that she will love?" Bartholomew’

  • 0063

    The Aviatux Luxury Manor guests' dining hall was a sight of pure elegance. A grand chandelier bathed the room in golden light, reflecting off the polished marble floor. Towering black-and-gold columns lined the walls, while deep crimson drapes framed massive windows overlooking the glowing gardens. The air carried the soft hum of Aveston's orchestral music, blending with murmured conversations. A semi-circular dining table stretched across the hall, draped in fine silk and set with gold-rimmed plates and handcrafted glassware that had the diagram of two intertwined bracelets, the crest of the Aviatux family. The scent of gourmet dishes filled the air as business moguls, officials, and dignitaries sat in quiet discussions. Among them were Damien Aviatux’s most trusted staff and guards, their eyes sharp and watchful. At the center of the open space stood a sleek podium, waiting for the Master of Ceremony to begin the night’s events. "Esteemed business ladies and businessmen of Av

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