Chapter 3

(Adrian POV)

I adjusted my tie in the office mirror.

The silk felt cool and familiar against my skin, yet there was an unease in the pit of my stomach that no amount of straightening could shake off.

 The tie was perfect, Grandfather had always insisted on that. Every detail had to be flawless. But today, that perfection felt hollow.

It had only been two weeks since I watched them lower him into the ground, the last member of my family.

 Everyone else had all been snatched away in a fiery plane crash years ago, leaving me with a legacy that felt more like a burden than a gift. 

Now, it was just me, standing in the echo of what once was, trying to fill shoes that felt far too large.

Today was my first day back at the office, my thoughts were a battlefield, the demands of the board meeting clashing with the ache of grief that gnawed at my resolve. 

How was I supposed to hold everything together? The company was on the brink of a new era, and so was I, though I wasn’t sure if I was stepping into light or into shadow.

While i was still trying get myself together the sudden ring of my phone jolted me from my thoughts, the sound sharp and intrusive in the quiet room. 

I glanced at the screen, it was Mrs. Hawkins, our chief maid.

 She’d been with the family for as long as I could remember, a constant presence in a life that had known too much change.

"Mr. Adrian," she began, her voice tinged with the careful concern.

 "Barrister Maxwell Pierce was here a few minutes ago. He also stopped by yesterday, looking for you."

"I'm busy," I replied, the words coming out more curtly than I intended. 

"Just tell him to call me next time."

"I did, sir," she continued, her tone softening, as if she could sense the tension building within me. 

"But the good man insisted he needed to speak with you face to face."

A sigh escaped me, long and weary. 

"Tell him to come to the office, then. I don't have time for this right now."

I ended the call, my thoughts already moving on, brushing off the encounter as yet another bureaucratic hurdle. 

Old Mister Pierce was probably after some routine signatures, the kind of formalities that had plagued my life since Grandfather passed.

 I’d get to it eventually, just not today.

Minutes later, as I walked into the conference hall, the room greeted me with an unnatural stillness. The air was thick with something unspoken.

 The board members rose from their seats, but it was In a slow, hesitant, draggy manner as if the weight of my presence had pulled them down. 

The subtle disrespect angered me. But I swallowed it down, keeping my face as an unreadable mask as I took my seat at the head of the table.

I launched into the agenda, my voice steady and authoritative. 

"As we move forward, it's crucial that we stay on course with the expansion plans," I began, outlining the next steps with practiced ease.

 "We need to ensure that our partnerships are solidified and that the integration process with our new acquisitions goes smoothly."

The words flowed, each one calculated, deliberate. But the room remained eerily silent, the only sound that persisted was the faint hum of the air conditioning.

 I glanced around, the puzzled expressions staring back at me like shadows in the dim light.

"Any thoughts?" I asked, my tone betraying the slightest edge of confusion.

A thick silence hung in the air, stretching seconds into what felt like minutes.

 Finally, Mr Edward the Chief of Operations, a man whose face was lined with years of service, slowly raised his hand.

 I nodded and waved, watching as he stood up measuredy, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes swept the room, and in that brief moment, it felt as though the air itself was holding its breath.

"I'm afraid," he began, his voice low, almost reverent, 

"I’m afraid we might have to suspend the proceedings for now."

His words hit me like a slap, sharp and stinging. "Excuse me?"

He remained standing, his gaze fixed on the table, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

 "It's not by my own decision, Mr. Adrian. It's an order from above."

"Above?" The word hung between us, sharp and jagged.

 "Who the hell has the authority to give orders in this company other than me? Are you out of your mind?"

The silence that followed was oppressive, thick and suffocating. The old man cleared his throat, the sound loud in the tense stillness. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper, as if the weight of his words threatened to crush him. "Your grandfather."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath me as I stood up, my chair scraping against the polished wood. 

"My grandfather?" I repeated, the disbelief coloring my words. "He just passed away. What are you talking about?"

The Chief of Operations met my gaze, his eyes steady, unwavering. 

"Sir what I'm trying to say is that the only condition for us to accept your leadership of the board is that you fulfill the instructions given in your grandfather's will."

"Instructions?" The word tasted foreign, strange. "What instructions?"

The room was filled with blank stares and shaking heads, each one a silent admission of ignorance. The old man continued, his voice a careful thread of calm.

. "It was part of a non-disclosure agreement he made us signed. We all signed it, per your grandfather's orders, before he passed."

I ran a hand through my hair, the tension coiling tighter within me. 

"What non-disclosure?"

As if on cue, every board member reached into their files, pulling out identical slips of paper. My breath caught in my throat as I walked around the table, my eyes scanning each one. .

There it was my grandfather’s unmistakable handwriting, each stroke of the pen a familiar echo from the past, and his signature, bold and final, sealing each document like a lock on a door I had no key to.

"Do you recognize the handwriting, sir?" 

The Chief of Operations' voice was gentle, but the question sliced through the fog in my mind.

I nodded, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. "This... this doesn’t make any sense."

"If you're still in doubt," the old man continued, his voice a careful thread of calm, 

"Then, there’s one person who can clarify everything."

"Who?" My voice was sharper than I intended, a mix of desperation and wild curiosity.

Before he could answer, my phone rang again, the sound jarring in the thick silence of the room. .

I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat at the name that flashed across it, Barrister Maxwell Pierce.