2025-05-08 19:37:25The sunlight poured in through the high windows of the penthouse suite, casting golden streaks across the polished marble floor. Chance O’Connor stood by the expansive glass wall, staring out at the skyline, the city unfolding beneath him like a conquered kingdom. Just yesterday, he was a boy begging to be seen. Today, he stood as a man who owned more than anyone in the nation could imagine.
His phone buzzed gently on the countertop beside a freshly brewed cup of cappuccino. He glanced at it.
"Mom," read the caller ID.
He swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Chance,” Julia Franklin’s warm, firm voice came through, layered with pride and something deeper—relief, perhaps. “I just got the confirmation from Eagleswood. You did it.”
He turned, leaning against the cold surface of the kitchen island, a half-smile forming on his face. “Yeah. It’s real. I signed everything. It’s… official.”
A breath of silence passed between them.
“I’m proud of you,” she said softly. “You’ve come into your legacy.”
He paused, lips tightening.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?” he asked, his tone low. “Why did you let me suffer all these years? The bullying, the humiliation, the poverty... Why?”
Julia sighed on the other end of the line. “Because I had to protect you. The world you’ve just stepped into, Chance, it’s not gentle. It devours the unready. I wanted you to be strong enough first. And now you are.”
Her voice wavered, and for a moment, Chance heard the emotion—years of sacrifice and secrecy pressed into her words.
“I’m sorry,” she added, and Chance closed his eyes, letting the moment linger. He wanted to stay angry, but he couldn’t. Not really.
He nodded to himself. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “Listen, I need you to attend something for me tonight—an elite auction. It’s private, highly exclusive. I can’t be there, but I need you to represent me. There’s a diamond necklace I want you to get.”
Chance raised a brow. “A necklace?”
“Yes. You’ll understand why when you see it. I’ve sent the invite and location to your email. Dress like a Franklin, walk like an O’Connor. And Chance…”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll need that financial support soon. The campaign trail is draining my resources.”
He smiled. “Whatever you need, Mom. I’ll handle it.”
Just as the call ended, another buzz vibrated through the phone. This time, the name “Chloe Martins” appeared on the screen. Chance’s heart lifted. A good friend of his from school, maybe his only true friend.
Chloe was one of those few people who treated Chance with respect since he joined the school. She was stunningly beautiful, with a perfect body curve, a brilliant mind, and a kind soul. Her father was the nation’s deputy chief of police; he was an influential man and one who didn’t joke with his family, especially his little princess, Chloe.
Chance picked up immediately. “Chloe?”
“Chance! Oh thank God,” her voice rang with excitement and concern. “You’ve been off the radar since yesterday. Are you okay?”
Chance chuckled. “I’m alive. Just needed to clear my head.”
“I heard what happened with Roy. That was beyond cruel. I was going to talk to my father about pressing charges—”
“No,” Chance interrupted gently. “Don’t. Please.”
She paused, confused. “But—”
“I appreciate it, really. But Roy’s nothing now. I’ve handled it. There’s more to me than people think.”
Chloe was silent for a moment. “You sound different.”
“I am,” he said with a small smirk. “I’ll explain everything later.”
“Well, alright,” she said, her voice softening. “But only if you promise to come to my birthday party tonight. Everyone will be there, but honestly, it won’t matter to me if you’re not.”
Chance’s chest warmed at her sincerity. “I’ll be there.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They ended the call, and Chance stared at his reflection in the gleaming black mirror of the cabinet nearby. His old self was dissolving, layer by layer. The world didn’t know it yet, but they were about to witness the rise of a new king.
—
Later that evening, the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon, and the city sparkled like a field of diamonds under the night sky. Chance pulled up to the auction venue in his sleek Bentley Escapade. The entrance was roped off, guarded by towering men in tuxedos and sunglasses, their expressions stoic. One glance at his invitation, and the velvet ropes parted like royalty had arrived.
He entered a grand hall filled with some of the most powerful people in the country. Celebrities, billionaires, political dynasties—they were all here, dressed in dripping luxury, sipping from champagne flutes like gods of Olympus.
Chance walked with slow confidence, dressed in an obsidian-black custom suit, tailored to perfection. The auction had already begun, and a heated bid was taking place over a rare Fabergé egg. The current bid stood at $18 million.
He took a seat in his reserved section, nodding slightly to those who looked his way. While he waited for the necklace, his mother remained on the call, muted but watching via a secure feed through his glasses—part of the tech Steven O’Connor had developed long ago.
Suddenly, the next item was announced.
“A true marvel of style and elegance… the Louis Vuitton Black Widow bag. The only one of its kind, embedded with black pearls, obsidian stones, and finished with dragon-scale leather. Bidding starts at $200,000.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Chance sat up slightly. The bag shimmered under the auction lights, seductive and powerful. He felt his mother’s voice stir in his ear.
“That bag,” she said, “get it. Flex your wings. Besides… you have no gift for Chloe’s birthday yet.”
Chance grinned. “You’ve been spying on my friends now?”
“She’s a good one. Show her she matters. And sharpen your claws before the necklace comes up.”
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Chapter 121
The night was heavy, the kind of silence that pressed down on Chance’s chest even as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep did not come easily—not after the week of grief, of arguments, of impossible decisions clawing at his mind. But eventually, exhaustion dragged him under.And when it did, he found himself standing in a vast hall.The air was thick, ancient, humming with a resonance that seemed to seep into his bones. Dark marble stretched beneath his feet, polished to a perfect sheen yet cold as ice. Tall pillars, carved with symbols he couldn’t understand, rose up endlessly into shadows. There was no light source, and yet the entire place glowed faintly, eerily, as if alive.“Where am I?” Chance whispered, his own voice echoing too loudly in the cavernous hall.The answer came not in words at first but in sound—the rhythmic thump of approaching footsteps. They rang with the weight of inevitability, each step reverberating like a war drum.From the shadows, a figure emerged
Chapter 120
Roland Kwan didn’t waste time before calling for an emergency meeting with other key members of the O'Connor board. Within the hour, the heavy oak doors of the conference room closed behind a gathering of the company’s most influential decision-makers.Though the agenda hadn’t been circulated, the tension in the room was unmistakable. Secretaries hurried in and out, setting down documents and glasses of water, while the board members sat stiffly in their high-backed chairs, their eyes narrowing at Roland, and Harold who were more less the pioneers of the meeting.“Ladies and gentlemen,” Roland began. “Myself and Harold convened this meeting because there’s a matter too urgent to wait. Young Chance O’Connor has been making… moves. Independent moves.”He slid a file onto the polished table and tapped the cover. The members leaned forward as the details were revealed—the acquisition of Regal Motors.The silence broke almost immediately.“You’re saying,” one older member muttered, “that t
Chapter 119
Julia was seated at the edge of her bed, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, staring at nothing. She had hardly moved since morning as grief had suddenly become the weight pressing against her chest, with Philip’s silence only making it heavier. He hadn’t so much as looked at her properly in the last two days, shutting her out in his own grief, leaving her to bear both her sorrow and his coldness.And as if that wasn't enough, her recent argument with Chance over the $600 million to acquire Regal motors still lingered deep, making her wonder if this was just her paying for being too ambitious as a woman.The election results were still being challenged by Senator Norville and she wasn't even sure if it was worth it anymore.She was still in the maze of her thoughts when the sudden buzz of her phone startled her. It vibrated insistently against the surface of the nightstand. With a weary sigh, she reached for it, frowning when she saw the name on the caller ID.Roland Kwan.Julia’s
Chapter 118
Charles Bernard sat in the high-backed leather chair of his penthouse suite, one ankle crossed over the other. The entire Bernard Tower—named after his family—seemed to hum with life beneath him, yet inside the room it was quiet. Too quiet.On the glass table beside him, a Rolex ticked steadily. Each second that passed fed into his anticipation. His lips curled into a smug smile. The deadline was almost here. Chloe Martins had less than three hours left. By nightfall, Regal Motors would belong to him, and the Bernards’ chokehold on the automobile industry would tighten until even the O’Connors would be forced to kneel.His coming back from overseas to take over the Bernard's chain of businesses as the eldest son was to make it clear to the entire business community that the Bernards could match up with the O' Connors and he was determined to make it so.For too long, the O' Connor's name has been sung with too much praise. Every paper, every media outlet, every business summit kept s
Chapter 117
While Gary was still there trying to embrace this new reality, one of the members of the syndicate slid a dagger across the table until it came to rest in front of him. “What’s this for?” Gary asked, his brow furrowing.The woman leaned back in her chair, her lips curving in something between a smile and a challenge.“A choice. You take the oath, and you are one of us. The Stannis fight becomes your fight. Your mother’s vengeance becomes your duty. If you refuse… then you walk away, and we will never speak of this again. You return to your O’Connor step-family, to their lies, to their silences. But you will know, deep down, that you turned your back on Susan, your mother.”At that name—Susan—his heart lurched.Brenda, standing beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm, unyielding. She leaned down, her voice sharp, vibrating with restrained fury.“Your mother deserved a son who would stand for her. A son who would not be blind to Philip’s betrayal. Gary, be that son
Chapter 116
Chance hadn’t slept more than a handful of restless hours. His bed had felt like stone, the silence of the night too loud, pressing down on him. Every time his eyes fluttered shut, the same images replayed—Julia’s face cold and unyielding across the kitchen counter, the sharp sound of porcelain cracking against wood, coffee spilling across the table like blood from a wound. And her words.We are mourning Gary, Chance. And the least you could do is respect that.Those words had burrowed into him, deeper than he’d admit, echoing in his skull until he could hardly think straight.Now, as he stood at the tall window of his study, the early morning light spilling over the perfectly manicured lawns, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass. Respect. That was what Julia demanded—respect for grief, for silence, for the dead.But what about the living?He could still see Chloe’s face from the night before. The faint tremble in her voice. The desperation she fought to hide, even as her wo
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