Return of the Legendary Cyber King

CH 3

Morning light broke through the cold fog over the Humpton villa. Rose sat up in her large bed, rubbing her tired eyes. The house was dead quiet, carrying an empty stillness she had never felt before.

For four long years, she had never needed an alarm clock. Every morning at seven sharp, Henry would knock gently on her door with a warm, damp towel and a glass of warm honey water to start her day.

Today, there was no knock. There was no warm towel, and the small wooden stand beside her bed was completely bare.

Rose shook her head, pushing the silk blanket aside. She told herself this quiet was a blessing now that an unwanted freeloader was finally gone.

She walked into her closet to dress for the morning board meeting, picking out a clean cream suit and a new pair of expensive Italian leather heels.

Rose slipped her feet into the shoes and took three steps toward the mirror. A sharp, burning pain shot up her right ankle, making her gasp and grab the edge of the dresser.

She pulled off the shoe in frustration. The stiff leather was cold and hard, already rubbing a raw, red blister against the back of her heel.

"Where are the soft shoe pads?" Rose muttered, searching through the boxes on the shelves.

Her skin was delicate, and new dress shoes always left her feet bruised and bleeding after big events.

For four years, she had never suffered a single blister, blindly thinking her expensive shoes were just made that way.

She had no idea that Henry spent hours in the basement every weekend, carefully trimming and sewing soft lambskin pads into the back of every pair she bought.

Unable to find any pads, Rose gritted her teeth, forced her sore heel back into the shoe, and limped down the marble stairs to the dining hall.

The dining table was set with silver plates. Eleanor Humpton sat at the head of the table, happily drinking fresh orange juice while reading the morning business papers.

"Good morning, darling!" Eleanor cheered with a wide smile. "Did you see the news? The whole city is talking about your partnership with Young Master Brandon!"

Rose gave a tight smile as she pulled out a chair. Her stomach was completely empty, twisting with sharp nerves ahead of tonight’s big city tech gala.

The family cook, Mrs. Gable, stepped out of the kitchen with a silver tray. On the plate were thick, greasy bacon strips and eggs scrambled with heavy cow's milk.

Rose looked at the oily plate, and her stomach immediately turned with a wave of sickness.

"Mrs. Gable, what is this?" Rose asked, her voice tight with anger. "You know I cannot handle heavy dairy, and greasy pork upsets my stomach before morning meetings."

The cook froze in fear, her face turning red as she gripped her apron with shaking hands.

"I am so sorry, Miss Rose," Mrs. Gable stammered, looking down at the floor. "I truly didn't know what to cook for you today."

"What do you mean you didn't know?!" Eleanor snapped, slamming her juice glass down on the table. "You have been our paid cook for three years! How can you not know what my daughter eats?!"

"Because Mr. Henry never let us touch Miss Rose’s breakfast," Mrs. Gable confessed in a trembling voice.

Rose froze, her fork hovering in the air. "What did you just say?"

"Mr. Henry woke up at five every morning," the cook explained softly. "He spent an hour boiling a special oat porridge, and he hand-peeled fresh pears so the fruit acid wouldn't hurt your stomach."

Mrs. Gable lowered her head, whispering with guilt. "Mr. Henry wrote your diet in a little notebook, but he took it when he left last night. None of us know how to make it."

The dining room went dead silent.

Rose stared at the greasy plate in front of her, feeling a cold, hollow knot tighten in her chest.

She remembered how she had eaten that warm, gentle porridge every morning for four years, always thinking the expensive kitchen staff had made it.

She had never once thanked Henry for it. She had never even asked who made it. She had simply eaten it while checking her phone, treating his quiet care like nothing.

"Nonsense!" Eleanor waved her hand with pure disgust. "That useless beggar only cooked because he had nothing else to do with his lazy life! Don't let a bowl of cheap oatmeal ruin your day, Rose!"

Eleanor took a bite of her toast with a sneer. "Now that you are marrying Brandon, you can hire five-star chefs to cook for you every single hour!"

Rose pushed the plate away without taking a bite. "Take it away, Mrs. Gable. Just bring me a glass of warm water."

Before the cook could clear the table, the front doors swung open with a loud bang.

Brandon Thorne strolled into the room, dressed in a bright silk shirt and a neat blazer, looking completely fresh and proud.

In his hand, he carried a cardboard tray holding two large plastic cups of iced coffee from a roadside gas station.

"Good morning, my beautiful queen!" Brandon announced loudly, walking right over to Rose and planting a loud kiss on her cheek.

Rose pulled back slightly from the smell of stale cigarette smoke on his collar, but she quickly forced a warm smile.

"Good morning, Brandon," Rose said, looking at him with hopeful eyes. "How do you feel? Did your allergic reaction from last night clear up?"

"Oh, totally gone!" Brandon laughed, waving his hand in the air. "My family doctor gave me a shot, and I was back on my feet in ten minutes. A strong man doesn't let a little dust knock him down."

Brandon took one of the plastic cups and slammed it down in front of Rose with a grin.

"Look what I got you," Brandon said proudly. "A sweet iced latte loaded with caramel and heavy whipped cream! Icy and sweet to wake up your brain for tonight!"

Rose stared at the cup, watching the thick layers of heavy dairy cream swirl against the ice cubes.

Her stomach felt sore, and her heel was throbbing with sharp pain. Henry would have rather cut off his own hand than give her an iced dairy drink before a big meeting.

"Thank you, Brandon," Rose said quietly, leaving the plastic cup untouched on the table. "That was very kind of you."

Brandon didn't even notice that she hadn't taken a sip, nor did he see how pale and tired she looked. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and unzipped a leather folder.

He pulled out a thick contract stamped with the Thorne Telecom seal and slid it right over Rose’s empty plate.

"What is this?" Rose asked, looking down at the legal papers.

"It’s our formal partnership agreement, darling," Brandon replied, his eyes shining with greed as he tapped his gold pen against the paper.

"Before we step onto the stage at the gala tonight, my father says we must lock down the company shares," Brandon explained in a smooth voice.

Rose read the first two pages, and her eyes went wide with shock. "Brandon... this says Humpton Tech must hand over twenty percent of our main company shares to Thorne Telecom."

"Twenty percent?" Rose looked up, her voice shaking. "That is sixty million dollars! We agreed to share the profits from the city deal, not hand over my family's company shares!"

Brandon’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, sharp look in his eyes.

"Rose, you have to be fair," Brandon sighed, leaning back with a disappointed look. "My family is putting our big name on the line for you tonight. The Aegis Core is the only reason the city leaders are even looking at your company."

Brandon leaned closer, staring into her eyes. "Without my defense code protecting your servers, you wouldn't even qualify for the gala. Twenty percent is cheap for the genius I gave your business."

Rose felt a heavy weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

For four whole years, Henry had worked in the cold basement through the night whenever her company was in danger. He had fixed their servers and stopped hundreds of cyberattacks, even though Rose had never once acknowledged his efforts.

In all those four years, Henry had never asked for a single share. He had never asked for a single dollar of ownership. He had never even asked for a monthly wage.

He had simply worked in the dark, asking for nothing more than a warm meal and a hospital bed for his sick sister.

Now, Brandon hadn't even worked one full day with her, and his greedy hands were already grabbing twenty percent of her family's life work.

"Rose, why are you hesitating?!" Eleanor yelled from across the table, glaring at her with angry eyes.

"Brandon saved your company from ruin yesterday!" Eleanor snapped, pushing the pen into Rose’s fingers. "Thorne Telecom is a giant company! Having them own twenty percent will make our stock price explode!"

"Auntie Eleanor is totally right," Brandon said softly, putting on his charming smile again. "Once we win the city contract tonight, those shares will be worth ten times more. We will be married soon anyway, Rose. What is mine is yours."

Rose looked at Brandon’s eager eyes, then at her mother’s angry scowl.

She buried the doubts in her heart, telling herself this was just how real business worked. Henry was just a broke man who didn't understand money, while Brandon was a sharp businessman.

"All right," Rose whispered, picking up the pen. "I trust you, Brandon."

With a quick, shaking hand, Rose signed her name at the bottom of the paper.

Brandon’s eyes lit up with wild hunger. He snatched the paper off the table the second her pen lifted, sliding it into his jacket like a bag of gold.

"You made the best choice of your life, Rose," Brandon laughed, standing up to adjust his coat. "Tonight at the gala, we will be the king and queen of the whole city!"

"Brandon," Rose called out, rubbing her aching head. "What about the servers? Are you sure the Aegis Core is running fine for the live test tonight?"

"Don't worry about those machines at all," Brandon laughed, waving his hand as he walked away. "I fixed everything yesterday. It is rock solid. Just focus on looking pretty in your dress tonight."

Brandon turned and walked out of the room, whistling a happy tune as he hurried to show the signed papers to his father.

Rose sat alone at the big table, staring at the melting iced drink in front of her.

A strange, cold emptiness gnawed at Rose’s stomach, refusing to leave her alone. She told herself she was just nervous about the gala tonight, but a quiet dread kept whispering that something was terribly wrong.

Across town in the dark server room of Humpton Tech, the tall machines hummed in total silence. For four long years, Henry had secretly checked those terminals every single midnight, clearing out errors and keeping the network alive with his own hands.

Last night was the first time no one showed up. Without Henry’s daily touch, the fragile code was already cracking under the pressure, flashing a quiet yellow warning as the entire system began to fail.