ECO JEFFERSON REAL ESTATE COMPANY.
The glass building stood as a testament to modern grandeur, its magnificent glass structure a focal point amidst meticulously arranged vehicles. Outside, 3D displays showcased the company's intricate architectural designs, while employees moved with purposeful speed. Guests departed with satisfied smiles and parting waves. The interior echoed the exterior's magnificence, where receptionists, sharp in navy blue skirts (for women) and trousers (for men), paired with matching blazers and striking red scarves, greeted visitors.
High above, in the chairman's office, Mr. Jefferson surveyed the sprawling cityscape through a vast window. The opulent space boasted gold-plated upholstery and furniture, an Egyptian silk throw, a plush bear fur rug, and a dazzling glass chandelier. His silhouette, drink in one hand and a smoldering cigar in the other, punctuated the scene.
The office door opened, and a woman entered with a hurried yet graceful gait, stopping midway. "Sir, your brother, Mr. Armani, is outside. He requests your presence and mentioned an appointment," she stated, her gaze fixed on the floor.
His eyes narrowed, though his back remained turned as he inhaled deeply from his cigar. "I warned you not to intercept him. Show him in. Any further hesitation, and this will be your last day within these walls," he threatened, waving a dismissive hand. The woman turned and swiftly left.
Moments later, Mr. Armani entered the office, quietly closing the door behind him. He approached Mr. Jefferson, who turned to greet him with a handshake. "Long time no see, brother," Mr Jefferson said, affectionately kissing his brother's forehead before stepping back. "It's been too long. I've missed you."
Mr. Armani smiled, taking the offered cigar and inhaling deeply. "Missed you too, bro, but I've been swamped. How's Catherine doing?" he inquired, sinking into the luxurious comfort of the couch.
Mr. Jefferson drained his drink in one gulp, placing the empty glass on the table. "She's fine, but you know she's always doting on that brat. Sometimes I wonder if she's my wife or his nanny," he grumbled, joining him on the couch. "So, what brings you here today? I know it's not just a casual visit."
Mr. Armani clicked his tongue, straightening up. "It's about Uriel, and it's urgent, unlike his usual antics," he replied, his fingers fidgeting on the armrest. "He's planning to redirect the scholarship he awarded to Megara."
"What?! How preposterous! That's going to make the school lose face nationwide, and it won't reflect well on us," Mr. Jefferson exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. "Did you sign the deal with him?
"Hell no Jefferson I stalled him and we need the school's board to decide on such matters. He retort tugging at his hair. "Megara is the number one prodigy in the country and if we pull her out of the school millions will rally against us and she would spill the beans about Uriel's wrongdoing.
Mr Jefferson smiled tilting his head slightly. "I'd like to know what makes Megara so special that Uriel is willing to go the mile to eradicate her? He asked and Armani could only smile smugly.
Mr Armani narrated everything to his brother without hesitation and Jefferson couldn't help but laugh out loud upon hearing the whole story.
"She is one special girl and a person like this doesn't deserve to leave the school. He compliments a smile tugged at his lips. "Armani pass my decree I want you to terminate Megara scholarship.
Mr Armani blinked his facial muscle moved but he held his composure. "Jefferson that's going to take a toll on us and it won't benefit us either. He lectured but Jefferson only shunned him.
"Armani you'd do what I say and how I want it. He said leaned in whispering to his ear the rest of the word lost. "Make sure to do as I say. Uriel might be smart but he'd never expect this sort of blow and I'm sure Catherine would do nothing about it.
AT CAT TECH COMPANY
Upon Uriel's arrival, stepping out of the car, the guards and receptionists offered immediate bows. His gaze remained sharp and unkind, a tangible aura of untamed pride and arrogance preceding him. He entered the elevator, his press of the button decisive.
As the doors sealed shut, a collective sigh of relief rippled through the reception area before the resumption of duties.
Uriel proceeded directly to his stepmother's office. Inside, he was met by Mr. Jones, his mother's unwavering secretary. "Madam is in a board meeting, anticipated to conclude within the next fifteen minutes," Mr. Jones informed him, his gaze lowered respectfully. "You are welcome to wait in her office; I shall return shortly with refreshments."
Uriel's jaw tightened. He detested waiting, his patience fraying with each passing moment. "The refreshments are unnecessary. Inform Catherine that my patience is not a virtue I readily possess," he stated curtly, stepping into the office.
Mr. Jones offered a silent nod, the instruction clear. He turned and moved with swift, unobtrusive steps towards the meeting room, leaning in to whisper to Catherine.
"Madam, young boss has arrived and awaits you in your office," he conveyed quietly. "He indicated his impatience to wait."
A warm smile touched Catherine's lips, a ripple of collective curiosity traversing the room. "Indeed," she murmured back, a hint of amusement in her tone. "My son. We mustn't allow him excessive idle time, lest circumstances become…unforeseen." Straightening, she addressed the room. "Meeting adjourned. We shall reconvene at a later juncture. Please ensure the reports for our next technology project are prepared for our subsequent discussion."
Catherine gracefully exited, leaving a momentary hush in her wake. The others followed suit.
Entering her office, Catherine's expression brightened at the sight of Uriel, his intense focus directed at her computer screen. She approached and settled into the adjacent seat.
"Someone appears deeply engrossed," she remarked, gently threading her fingers through his hair. "What brings you here? You seem uncharacteristically serious today, darling. Is something amiss?"
Uriel subtly moved her hand away, his gaze finally lifting from the screen. "Nothing, Catherine. I am not unhappy; rather, I am in a state of anticipation, and the matter is already resolved," he assured her, leaning back and crossing his legs with an air of nonchalance. "I come here daily, Catherine. It strikes me as rather forgetful that you seem to have overlooked this after my brief two-day absence."
"I didn't forget, dear boy. I merely…overlooked it, considering my esteemed successor's brief departure," she replied with a smile, lightly patting his arm. "So, what knowledge shall we explore today? Or is there further insight you seek?"
A subtle smile touched Uriel's lips. He briefly unlocked his phone, responding swiftly to an incoming message before returning it to his jacket. "I require your guidance on the intricacies of manipulating and acquiring stocks within the market," he requested, his eyes meeting hers directly.
Catherine powered on her personal computer, her brow slightly arched. "Alright, your highness. I had assumed such maneuvers were already within your expertise," she commented, her curiosity piqued.
Uriel rolled his eyes, idly swiveling the office chair. "I possess proficiency, yes. However, I desire further practice. My current schedule presents…limited demands, and I see little merit in returning home to mere inactivity when the opportunity for further learning presents itself."
"That is a remarkably astute decision, Uriel," Catherine complimented, activating the projector screen. "If you maintain this dedication, I assure you that by the age of twenty-five, you will undoubtedly be a dominant force in the business realm."
Uriel's gaze remained fixed on the screen, yet his thoughts were consumed by Megara. The image of her pleading with him when her scholarship inevitably faltered at Royal Von High, after she'd sacrificed her previous schooling, brought a sly smirk to his lips. Turning, he caught Catherine's gaze, but her silence spoke volumes – a tacit acknowledgment that questioning him in this mood would be a waste of breath. The air crackled with unspoken intentions.
THE ARNOLD'S MANSION
The air in the living room hung thick and cold, a stark contrast to the vibrant life Hugo had always known within these walls. He understood the family's dedication to their public image, his father orchestrating every decision. Yet, a silent house was an anomaly; laughter usually echoed, while disagreements remained discreet.
His father, Mr. Arnold, sat stiffly in his chair, a brown file clutched in his hand, his expression a hardened mask that immediately signaled trouble.
Hugo settled onto the couch, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach. "Dad, where are Mum and Grandpa?" he asked, rubbing his clammy palms together.
Mr. Arnold's gaze narrowed, his eyes sharp and piercing. He flung the file, hitting Hugo's chest. "See for yourself. Then tell me if you still dare to ask about them." His voice was cold, unwelcoming. "I never imagined you could sink so low, forgetting your place, your status, blinded to what's clear."
Hugo opened the file. A dozen photographs spilled out. His pupils dilated, but he remained outwardly calm. "I see you had a secret detective on me, Dad. But my decision stands. She's my friend, nothing more."
His father's fury contorted his face. He slammed his hand on the glass table. "You're insane, Hugo! Can't you see that girl is a nobody? Beneath you! If you needed friends, why not those of your own standing? What happened to Uriel and Zack?"
Hugo shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I'm tired, Dad. This discussion is over. I don't want the stress." He started to rise, but his father's hand clamped on his shoulder, forcing him back down.
"You will sit and listen in my house, Hugo. You will not disobey me!" he barked.
A bitter smile touched Hugo's lips, his own anger simmering. "You will end this friendship, Hugo. Don't bring shame on this family."
Hugo stood, his gaze locking with his father's, a silent battle of wills. "I will not. And if you do anything to Megara, be warned, this house won't be big enough for both of us." He punctuated his words with a finger jab to his father's chest. "I've been obedient, dedicated, my whole life. And all you've done is manipulate me."
He sniffled, pacing. "I won't end my friendship just because you demand it. I'm friends with the Z3; why not Megara?" His voice rose. "She's a true friend, something you wouldn't understand. And as for status? I'd rather lose it all than lose her. This wealth isn't mine, Dad. I want to build my own legacy. So, if you call her a misfit for being poor, then I'm a bigger misfit, a gold digger leeching off your fortune."
Mr. Arnold was speechless, his face a mask of thwarted rage. He kicked the table, sending it crashing, before storming out. Hugo exhaled, his chest heaving. He turned to leave, colliding with his mother (Natasha )and grandfather(Thomas).
Natasha cupped his face, her eyes searching. "What happened, my little munchkin? Did you and your father argue?" she asked softly, stroking his cheek.
Hugo looked from his mother to his silent grandfather. "No, Mum, we didn't argue. But someone needs to talk sense into that tyrant." He spat the word, heading for the stairs.
"That's no way to speak about your father, son," Thomas said gently. "He is still your father. I'll speak with him."
"No, he isn't," Hugo retorted, disappearing up the stairs. "Fathers understand their children, they don't make decisions for them in the name of family, when it's just a justification for their own selfish desires."
Natasha wrung her hands, her knuckles white against the fabric of her vintage suit. "Patience, Natasha," Thomas advised, moving towards his son's office. "I'll try to reason with him. You go and rest; you deserve it."
Natasha bowed her head, disappointment etched on her face. "Arnold," she murmured, turning towards her own room, "you're pushing me too far. Don't blame me when I become merciless."