Rise of the Sovereign: Wayne Stark

Chapter One

The gentle hum of the choir echoed across the churchyard, their voices soft and mournful as they sang a burial hymn. The scent of incense and freshly turned earth hung in the air, thick with sorrow.

It was the final farewell for Mr. Rafael Romanos—a man of wealth, reputation, and legacy. Friends, family, and powerful business partners gathered beneath black canopies to pay their respects, cloaked in grief and adorned in gold.

An hour passed. The ceremony concluded. Mourners lined up to offer condolences to the widow, Mrs. Romanos, whose veiled expression didn’t waver beneath the weight of sympathy. She stood tall in her black gown like a queen guarding a fading empire.

Then a voice pierced the solemn air—too loud, too raw.

“Hey, James!”

Heads turned. Conversations stilled. James—the grandson of the deceased and second son of Rafael’s daughter—froze mid-handshake. His polite smile faltered the moment he saw who had spoken.

Wayne Stark.

A man the Romanos never truly accepted. Not blood. Not legacy. Just… an unwanted addition.

“What do you want?” James snapped, his tone instantly sharp, unforgiving.

Wayne stepped forward, his face tense with desperation. “Please, James… I need your help. I’m begging you—just lend me some money. I’ll pay it back. In three months, I swear.”

James tilted his head, a sneer curling at his lips.

“Help?” he repeated, with a dry, almost amused laugh. “You? You think you deserve help?”

Wayne’s mouth went dry.

“I need $200,000,” he said, urgency climbing in his voice. “My best friend was in a car crash just hours ago. He needs emergency surgery—I have to save his life.”

James burst out laughing, the sound cutting through the hushed crowd like a slap.

“You useless leech,” he spat. “Now that Grandpa’s dead, there’s no one left to throw you scraps, huh? And you think I’m going to hand you that kind of money?” He turned to the mourners, his voice loud and mocking. “Everybody, listen to this beggar. Two hundred grand like it’s a pack of chewing gum.”

A few guests chuckled nervously, unsure if they should be amused or appalled.

Wayne’s face flushed crimson. His hands clenched at his sides. He was used to being ignored. Even mocked. But this… this was something else.

Mrs. Romanos, mid-conversation with a family friend, turned sharply toward the disturbance. She lifted the hem of her gown and stormed forward, her heels clapping the concrete with every determined step.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, her voice like flint.

James straightened up immediately, the smirk vanishing from his face.

Wayne bowed his head slightly. “Grandma… I didn’t mean to cause a scene. I just—I need help. My friend’s dying, and I’m out of options.”

Mrs. Romanos’ eyes narrowed. She scanned his wrinkled, ill-fitting suit, her lip curling with contempt.

“Shut. Up,” she said coldly. The words shattered whatever was left of Wayne’s dignity.

A guest nearby whispered, “He must have a death wish. Causing drama today of all days?”

The rumors about Wayne were well-known. How he had married one of the granddaughters in a quiet, confusing ceremony. How no one really knew why Rafael had arranged it. Wayne had always been more of a shadow in the Romanos home than a member of the family.

“How dare you ask me for money?” Mrs. Romanos hissed. “Do you have any idea how much pain I’m in? You heartless bastard.”

Wayne’s lips trembled. Regret flooded his chest.

Then he saw her.

Lena.

His wife.

She’d just stepped out from behind a nearby car, her eyes catching his for the briefest moment before darting away.

She looked… ashamed.

“Grandma, I—” Wayne tried, but the words barely left his mouth before a slap cracked across his cheek, loud and sharp.

The whole world seemed to pause.

He stumbled, one foot slipping back, his fingers rising instinctively to his face.

“Don’t speak again,” Mrs. Romanos growled. “James. Call security. Get this trash out of here.”

James was already waving to the guards at the gate. But before they could act, Wayne raised a hand.

“No need,” he said quietly. “I’ll go.”

“You should’ve never been allowed in this family,” Mrs. Romanos snarled. Then, lifting her hand high, she gestured to a sharply dressed man nearby. “Mr. Kane! Draw up divorce papers. My granddaughter will not spend one more day tied to this disgrace.”

Wayne’s heart skipped a beat.

“Wait—Grandma—”

“I said shut up!” she barked.

Mr. Kane approached cautiously. “Ma’am, I’ll need to speak with Lena before I can—”

“You’ll do it,” she snapped. “I’ll make her agree. Just get it done.”

Wayne took a breath and said calmly, “I won’t sign anything without speaking to my wife.”

From behind came a derisive scoff.

“You really think Lena wants you?”

It was Jacob.

The youngest of Rafael’s sons stepped forward from the shade of the family limousine, dressed in black silk and arrogance.

“I’ll give you the money,” Jacob said smoothly, “but on one condition.”

Wayne tensed. “What condition?”

“Divorce Lena. Leave the family. Disappear. That’s the only way you’ll get it.”

Wayne’s gaze darted to Lena. She hadn’t moved. Not a single step.

“No,” he said softly. Then louder, firmer, “No. I won’t divorce my wife.”

Jacob laughed quietly. “Then go save your friend with nothing.”

James sneered beside him. “You can either walk away with something—or be dragged out with nothing.”

Wayne stared at them both. His eyes, glassy with pain and fury, didn’t blink.

“You know what?” he said finally. “Lena and I have been married for two years. And not one of you could stop us back then. What makes you think you can now?”

“Because Rafael’s gone,” James snapped. “Your protector is dead.”

Jacob’s voice lowered like a blade. “You really think Lena ever wanted you? She was only playing her role. Grandpa made her. She was just fulfilling a debt. Tell me—have you even touched her? Shared a bed?”

Wayne said nothing.

His silence said everything.

Their laughter chased him as he turned and walked past the gates. No one followed. No one stopped him.

Only the whispers trailed behind.

Each step felt heavier than the last, his shoulders bearing the weight of every insult.

He heard Jacob’s voice again in his head.

Have you even touched her?

Wayne clenched his fists.

He walked until the churchyard disappeared behind him, the cold wind slicing through his coat.

And still, he didn’t stop.

He knew why Lena had agreed to marry him. He had always known.

It wasn’t love.

It was leverage.

Her mother—once a proud Romanos daughter—had been cut off when she married a man named Mr. Brown, against the family’s wishes. And when she gave birth to Lena, the Romanos erased them completely.

To return to the family fold, to regain her position in the empire, Lena’s mother had obeyed Rafael’s final request: marry her daughter to the man he chose.

Wayne.

Not for love.

Not for respect.

But for redemption.

Lena had been a pawn. And Wayne… a convenient tool.

He never tried to be the husband she wanted. Because deep down, he knew she hadn’t chosen him. She had done it for her mother. For the promise of power. For a name.

And now that Rafael was dead, the Romanos were ready to erase him.

He stopped by the roadside, waiting for the next public bus. Hands in his pockets. Head low. Wind biting at his skin.

Would Lena agree to the divorce now?

The question rattled inside him like loose change in an empty pocket.

And if she did… what would be left of him?