
Connor Waratah stood outside the dingy Melbourne apartment building, tossing a garbage bag into the dumpster when a sleek black sedan pulled up. A well-dressed man in his fifties stepped out, bowing respectfully.
"Young Master Connor," Jimmy Coolabah said, his voice carrying years of servitude. "I've come to bring you home." Connor's face hardened. "Don't call me that. I'm nobody's young master." "Your mother, Mrs. Waratah, wishes to apologize for the past. The family needs you to return to Sydney and accept your rightful position as heir to the Waratah empire." "Apologize?" Connor laughed bitterly. "Where was this apology when I was trying to save the Billabong Elder Care Home? When I begged them for help and they branded me a thief instead?" Jimmy's expression remained patient. "The family made mistakes—" "Mistakes?" Connor's voice rose. "They threw me out like garbage when all I wanted was to help the place that raised me after they failed to protect me from being kidnapped! Now they want me back because it's convenient?" "Young Master, please reconsider—" "I said don't call me that!" Connor turned his back. "Go back to Sydney, Jimmy. Tell them Connor Waratah is dead to them, just like they were dead to me when I needed them most." Later that evening, Connor arrived at the Kuranda family mansion for Elder Dundarra's 70th birthday celebration. The grand ballroom buzzed with relatives presenting lavish gifts, but Connor stood empty-handed beside his wife Kirra. Elder Dundarra Kuranda, a stern man with silver hair, surveyed his family from the head table. "What a wonderful evening! My children and grandchildren have shown such generosity." Connor stepped forward, his heart pounding. "Elder Dundarra, if I may speak..." The room fell silent. Kirra grabbed his arm, whispering urgently, "Connor, what are you doing?" "I... I need to ask for a loan. Five hundred thousand dollars." The silence shattered into gasps and murmurs. Wonga Kuranda, Kirra's mother, shot to her feet. "Are you out of your mind, you worthless cockroach? Five hundred thousand dollars? Who do you think you are?" Bandicoot, Kirra's cousin, snorted with laughter. "The garbage collector wants to play with the big boys! That's rich!" "It's for the Billabong Elder Care and Children's Home," Connor pressed on desperately. "The place where I work needs rebuilding—" "Your little orphan playground?" Milla, another cousin, cackled. "You want us to throw away money on a bunch of unwanted old people and brats?" Elder Dundarra's face turned purple with rage. "You parasitic insect! You marry into our family and immediately try to steal from us? For an orphanage?" "Elder Dundarra, please, if you could just listen—" "Listen to what? A worthless maggot begging for scraps?" Wonga spat. "You're nothing but a bottom-feeder who crawled out of some gutter!" Bandicoot stood up, pointing at Connor mockingly. "Look at him! Standing there like a beaten dog, thinking he deserves our hard-earned money for his charity case!" "The children and elderly residents are suffering," Connor tried again, his voice breaking. "They have nowhere else to go—" "And that's our problem how, you pathetic worm?" Milla laughed coldly. "Go beg on the streets where you belong!" Elder Dundarra slammed his fist on the table. "Enough! You shameless leech, how dare you come to my birthday celebration and try to rob my family? Security!" "Father, please!" Kirra finally found her voice, stepping between Connor and the approaching guards. "Connor works at the care home—he's just trying to help people who have nothing!" "Help people?" Wonga shrieked. "He's trying to help himself to our money! This disgusting parasite has fooled you, Kirra!" "The boy clearly has no shame," Elder Dundarra growled. "Like a fly buzzing around filth, he's drawn to other people's wealth!" Bandicoot grinned maliciously. "Maybe we should check his pockets! This trash probably already stole something!" "I haven't stolen anything!" Connor protested. "No? Then why are you here begging like a mangy dog for handouts?" Milla sneered. "Next you'll be telling us you deserve respect too!" Elder Dundarra pointed toward the door. "Get this human garbage out of my sight! You are banned from all future family events, you worthless maggot!" Connor felt every eye in the room burning with contempt as the guards moved forward. "And Kirra," Elder Dundarra continued coldly, "if you ever bring this cockroach to another family gathering, you'll be thrown out with him!" Outside the mansion, Kirra walked ahead of Connor, her heels clicking angrily on the pavement. "Kirra, wait—" She spun around, her eyes blazing. "Wait? Wait for what, Connor? For you to humiliate me further?" "I was trying to help people who are suffering—" "You were trying to steal from my family!" she snapped. "Five hundred thousand dollars, Connor! Do you have any idea how that makes me look?" "The care home needs help—" "I don't care about your care home right now! I care about the fact that my husband just made me look like a fool in front of my entire family!" Connor's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, I just thought—" "You thought wrong! You want to make this right? Then help me secure the Jarrah Properties deal that they've been refusing to sign with us. That's the only way you can possibly redeem yourself." She turned and walked away, leaving Connor standing alone in the darkness. At the Billabong Elder Care and Children's Home, Connor found the usual heartbreaking scene: elderly residents sharing thin soup, children playing with broken toys, and staff stretching every dollar. The rebuilt facility was better than the burned ruins, but barely functional. Connor made his way to Nana Eucalyptus's office, preparing to confess his failure. "Nana, I need to tell you something—" The elderly woman looked up with a smile. "Oh, Connor dear! What perfect timing. We received the most wonderful news today!" "What news?" "A mysterious benefactor donated two million dollars and supplies! The children will finally have proper meals, and the elderly residents can get the care they deserve!" Connor stared in shock. "Who... who was the donor?" Before Nana Eucalyptus could answer, a familiar voice spoke from the doorway. "That would be me, Young Master Connor." Connor turned to see Jimmy Coolabah holding an elegant black briefcase. "You," Connor growled. "What are you doing here?" "Fulfilling my duties," Jimmy said calmly. "And bringing you two gifts." He opened the briefcase, revealing a sleek black card and an official document. "A World Bank black card with unlimited funds—one of only ten in the world. And a contract transferring full ownership of Jarrah Properties Company to you." Connor's face contorted with rage. "I told you I don't want anything from the Waratah family!" "Young Master—" "Stop calling me that! I don't want your blood money!" Jimmy gestured toward the main room where children were laughing and elderly residents were finally smiling. "Without this assistance, how many more will suffer? How long before this place closes again?" Connor's anger wavered as he watched a little girl hugging a teddy bear that had come with the supplies. "How... how much is on the card?" he asked quietly. Jimmy's smile was knowing. "One hundred billion dollars, Young Master. Enough to buy every property in Melbourne... including the ones that have been refusing to work with your wife's family."Latest Chapter
Ch. 163- Head of the Family
Connor, Kirra, Cassian, and Miles were the only ones remaining when the last echo faded. Connor’s breath was steady, but his eyes carried the storm he was holding back. Cassian scanned the hall as if confirming that every shadow had retreated. Miles wiped a sheen of nervous sweat from his brow.“They are not done,” Cassian murmured. “They are wounded. A wounded Waratah does not hide. It lunges.”Connor nodded once. “Then let them. They cannot touch us now.”Miles stepped forward. “Actually, they might try something desperate. Rowan does not lose cleanly. He—”His words cut off when the east doors slammed open so hard one of the candles toppled.Every head snapped toward the sound.Charles Waratah entered first. His silver hair gleamed under the chandelier, and his face—usually carved with cold disdain—was stretched with panic.Behind him, Frederick stumbled in, followed by three board members who looked like they had run through a storm.Miriam was not with them.Rowan was not either.
Ch. 162- Stolen
Cassian was standing firm in his place beside Connor, arms folded, gaze sweeping across every corner like someone memorizing the battlefield. Miles lingered somewhere behind them, vibrating with adrenaline and badly disguised panic.The candles hissed as if the house itself exhaled.Connor’s breath left him in a slow, controlled release. “It’s starting,” he said.Cassian tilted his head. “It started the moment you walked through those gates.”Miles pushed a hand through his hair. “What exactly starts now? Because I’m getting the sense we just kicked a hornet nest the size of a small country.”Cassian turned fully. “Hornets are predictable. This family is not.”“Fantastic,” Miles muttered.Connor didn’t move his gaze from the doors Rowan had stormed through. “He’s going straight to Charles. And Frederick. They’ll try to reconvene in private. They’ll attempt an override.”“They can’t,” Miles said. “You said the vote was invalid.”Connor lowered his voice. “They will try anyway.”Cassian
Ch. 161- Fear Her!?
The doors thundered open with a force that made every candle tremble. The figure stepped into the hall, tall, sharp and confident. His presence sliced through the tension like a blade honed over years of exile.Kirra, caught between shock and the crackling air, whispered, “Who is that?”Miles’s mouth twitched in a wild, disbelieving grin. “Option A,” he muttered. “The nuclear option.”Rowan’s face drained. “You.”The man stepped into the candlelight, revealing hard-cut features, eyes like polished steel, and a scar running from the corner of his jaw to the edge of his collar.He smiled, slow and lethal.“Hello, Rowan,” he said. “Still pretending you run this family?”Gasps hissed around the room.Kirra felt Connor’s grip tighten on her hand until his knuckles whitened.Rowan’s voice cracked once before he wrestled it back under control. “You were banned from this estate.”“Yes,” the man said, unbothered. “And yet, here I am.”Miriam pushed to her feet, stiff and pale. “How did you ge
Ch. 160- Breach
The doors suddenly exploded inward, slamming against the stone walls with a crack that ricocheted through the east hall. Gasps rippled across the semicircle of Waratah relatives. Kirra’s pulse stuttered, and sensing her anxiety, Connor’s shoulders went rigid beside her.And the stranger stepped through.He moved with the kind of confidence that did not need permission. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a charcoal suit that fit like a tailored threat, he crossed the threshold with an ease that said he belonged here and a defiance that said he refused to. His hair was a deep ash blond, slightly tousled, and his eyes were an unsettling, piercing blue… the kind that saw too much, too quickly.A murmur swept the hall.“Is that—?”“It can’t be—”“He wouldn’t dare—”Rowan’s face drained of color.“…Elias,” he breathed.The name struck the room like a dropped match in dry grass.Kirra felt Connor exhale beside her—not relief, not fear, but something sharper. A blade unsheathed.Elias W
Ch. 159- Storm gathering
The air in the east hall snapped tight, as if every molecule was froze in anticipation. The doors at the back slammed open so violently that the portraits rattled on their hooks. A cold gust swept through the chamber, sweeping candle flames sideways, and the Waratahs, people who thrived on control, collectively flinched.A tall silhouette stepped into the golden light.At first, Kirra couldn’t make out the face, just the posture, which was relaxed, arrogant, unmistakably predatory. The kind of posture that said the room belonged to him, whether anyone liked it or not.Rowan’s breath left him in a strangled hiss.“Oh no,” Miles whispered, delighted. “He actually brought him.”Connor didn’t move. His jaw was steady, his stance rooted, but Kirra felt the tension vibrating through his hand. This wasn’t fear. This wasn’t anger.This was a warning.The figure stepped forward, boots echoing across the marble, until the face emerged from the shadows.A man in his thirties, dark hair slicked
Ch. 158- Hello, Cousin
The doors were booming against the walls as the figure strode in at a very unhurried pace, appearing unnervingly confident and carrying an aura that the Waratah elders visibly recoiled from.A hush rolled through the assembly like a cold wind.Kirra felt Connor go still beside her.Rowan’s expression, which was already sour, curdled into something close to dread. “You.”The man stepped into the light, coat draped over broad shoulders, dark hair tied back, eyes sharp enough to cut steel. He looked like someone carved from the same Waratah mold Connor had escaped, polished, powerful, and dangerous, but older, and infinitely more composed.“Hello, cousin,” the man said, voice smooth as glass but edged like a blade. “Try not to faint. It would be terribly embarrassing.”Kirra blinked. Cousin?The room rippled with whispers.Connor exhaled once. “Elias.”Elias Waratah smiled, but it wasn't warm. “Good to know the prodigal remembers my name.”Kirra watched Rowan struggle to mask pure fury.
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