Rise of the Sovereign: Wayne Stark

Chapter Four

Wayne stood before the towering structure, eyes wide with disbelief—as though trying to breathe in the sheer elegance before him. This wasn’t just a building. It radiated power. Prestige. Even the air carried the scent of ancient money and secrets whispered across generations. Secrets only the elite were born to inherit.

He felt like a ghost at the edge of a dream.

This wasn’t architecture—it was a monument to untouchable wealth. A world he had only glimpsed through luxury TV shows and magazine covers. Now he stood not as a guest. Not as a beggar peering through glass. But as the man to whom this empire now bowed.

Could this be real? Is this… really mine?

Weeks ago, he couldn’t afford lunch. Now he owned the kind of wealth they wrote movies about.

His heart thundered. His mind reeled. It felt too surreal to be anything but fantasy.

“Master, this way. Shall we?” Zack’s voice pulled him back to earth, calm yet urgent.

Wayne blinked. He’d nearly forgotten he was still at the entrance, his eyes devouring the majesty sprawled before him.

This was Solmere Estate—an empire built by thirty-eight of the world’s wealthiest families, now folded neatly under one name: his.

They stepped inside.

A sea of uniformed security—one hundred and twenty men—bowed in unison. “Welcome, Sir,” their voices echoed in perfect harmony.

Then came a man in his mid-thirties, dressed immaculately, steps polished and respectful. He bowed deeply. “We’re honored to receive you, Master.”

Wayne said nothing. His expression was unreadable—calm, carved from dignity. Inside, he was overwhelmed. But not a single crack showed.

This isn’t a prank. This is real.

The estate had declared a full-day holiday. Every business shut down, thousands of employees idle, just to honor the handover. Solmere wasn’t changing ownership. It was changing its god.

“This is Alex, the current general manager,” Zack said, keeping pace with him. “You have full authority to replace him or restructure. This isn’t shared ownership. The empire is entirely yours—unless you choose otherwise.”

Still, Wayne remained silent.

But his silence wasn’t cold. It was regal. The kind that falls when a crown lands too suddenly on a man’s head. With every step toward the grand office, his understanding deepened.

At the desk, he signed.

With a stroke of ink, the empire was sealed.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Alex, still tense, stepped forward. “Sir, may I suggest a celebration? A private gathering to announce your arrival—”

Wayne lifted a hand.

The gesture was simple. Quiet. But it silenced the room.

“We can celebrate another time,” he said evenly. “Right now, I want results. Let Solmere run like a perfect machine. Those who trusted this empire deserve the best. Also…”

He paused. His presence shifted—command settling into his bones.

“No formal announcements yet. Until further notice, I want my identity kept under wraps. I’ve still got business to finish.”

There it was—the weight of power worn with quiet defiance. Wayne Stark was no longer the man outside the gates. He was the gate.

“Alex,” he said, locking eyes. “You’ll remain in charge for now. But understand this: if you fall short, if I sense incompetence, you’re gone.”

Alex paled, goosebumps rushing down his arms. “Y-yes, sir! I swear, I’ll give everything. You have my loyalty.”

“Good.” Wayne glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. Zack, we’re leaving.”

“Yes, sir,” Zack bowed. “But… there’s still more, sir.”

Wayne gave a slight nod. Alex was dismissed with a look. Zack tapped at his tablet.

“All the data’s been synced to your device. Also, a private mansion has been acquired in your name.”

Wayne turned slowly. “How much… does all of this cost?”

Zack gestured. A second man stepped forward, nervous but composed. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

“Sir, the Solmere Estate alone is valued at $14.8 trillion. It spans six countries, operating 14,000 businesses across global branches. Estimated weekly revenue sits around $120 billion. Expansion projects could increase that by 30% within months.”

Wayne froze.

Fourteen point eight…?

Billions a week?

He stared into space.

What world… am I living in?

“You’re saying all this is under my name?”

“Yes, sir. Fully. And there’s more—like the Seraphine Estate, perched on a private cliff. Ocean to the left. Mountains to the right. Hidden from all access. Currently valued at $200 billion.”

Wayne nodded slowly. “Sounds nice. We’ll check it out next time.”

Outwardly, he was calm. Inwardly, he was screaming.

But something had shifted.

He didn’t shrink under the weight. He expanded to meet it.

He took a breath—and smirked.

“I need to head home before my wife starts hunting me down,” he said, pulling out his phone.

It was on silent. Dozens of missed calls.

“Oh man… I really need to go.”

Zack hesitated. “Would you like to explore more, sir? The private billionaire lounge or the Evercreste sensory experience—”

“No time.” Wayne turned to the man who’d spoken. “You. What’s your name?”

“Sam, sir.”

Wayne nodded. Then turned to Zack.

“Take me back to my wife’s place. I want to lay low for now. Handle everything else until I say otherwise.”

For the first time, his exhaustion bled through—not just in his voice, but in his soul.

He was tired. But behind those eyes, a fire smoldered.

⸻

Wayne walked the final stretch home alone, letting the cool night air settle his thoughts. It was past 11 p.m.

“Wayne.”

The voice stopped him.

He turned. He knew it instantly.

She’s outside? At this hour? Was she… waiting for me?

“Where have you been all day? I called you so many times.” Her voice was soft—but sharp.

“Sorry. I was busy. Didn’t see the calls.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “Come in.”

Once the door shut—she didn’t hold back.

“About the divorce. Are you signing or not?” Her tone wasn’t angry. It was steady. Unflinching.

Wayne hesitated. Still unsure.

“I told Grandma I’m not signing. She’s furious. She called a meeting tomorrow. Said if we don’t show, she’ll kick us out of the Romanos legacy.”

She’s risking everything, Wayne thought. Even her place in the family.

The Romanos didn’t just disown—they erased.

Wayne nodded quietly.

⸻

Morning came fast.

Wayne reviewed his tablet, data scrolling silently. Assets. Stock graphs. Trillions in motion.

“You ready?” Lena’s voice broke through.

He jumped slightly, feigning nerves. “Yeah. Ready.”

They arrived at the Romanos estate—where power wore pearls and walked on marble floors. The meeting room was packed. Murmurs filled the air.

Then she arrived.

Mrs. Romanos. Regal. Dressed in silk and diamond restraint. Her perfume trailed command.

The room snapped into silence.

“Good morning,” she said, voice rich and cold.

“I’ve called this meeting early because the matter is urgent.”

Her eyes landed on Lena and her mother. Then Wayne.

Gift’s heart pounded.

“Since my husband passed, this family has slipped. We once stood tall. Now we’re behind. That ends today.”

Wayne’s phone rang.

Silence. Frozen.

He killed the call, turned off the phone.

Mrs. Romanos didn’t need to speak—her glare was a dagger.

She continued.

“I’ve learned that the Solmere Estate has been sold. Without warning.”

Wayne froze.

She has no idea.

“Our company can’t earn contracts from them. But we might secure a $1 billion deal from the Caldwells. That’s our target.”

Gasps swept the room.

Solmere was unreachable. The Romanos, worth barely $500 million.

But she pressed on.

“Impossibility is no excuse. If we land this deal, we rise again.”

Jacob’s voice rang out. “How exactly do we pull that off?”

Her response was sharp.

“I’ve planned it. From now, anyone not contributing is cut off.”

Gift’s spine tensed. The heat in the room shifted.

“Elena,” she said, turning to her eldest grandchild. “Land a $10 million deal. I know you won’t disappoint.”

Elena smiled coolly. “Consider it done, Grandma.”

Then her voice turned ice-cold.

“But Lena… you’ve never brought value. You survive on this family’s name.”

All eyes turned. Judgment. Disgust. Pity.

Gift clenched her jaw.

“Still,” Mrs. Romanos said, “I’ll give you a chance. One.”

She turned fully toward Lena.

“Land a $50 million deal from the Arnolds. Two weeks. Or leave quietly.”

Gift gasped.

Even Lena looked shaken.

“But the Arnolds…” Lena began, voice cracking, “They don’t take new contracts. We’ve never even worked with them—”

“I hate excuses,” Mrs. Romanos snapped. “Admit defeat now, and I’ll pass judgment.”

Two weeks.

The weight of it hung over them like a noose.

Lena had no network. No leverage.

Wayne sat in silence.

But it wasn’t weakness.

It was the stillness before the lion moves.

The game has finally begun