Chapter 4

(ADRIAN POV)

After two extra ringa

I swiped the screen to answer, tension abode in the room. 

“Adrian,” The barrister’s voice was steady, but there was something beneath it urgency, maybe? 

“We need to meet as soon as possible. Like you must have heard, there’s something regarding your grandfather's….”

“You know what? Don’t bother coming here,” I cut him off, my tone sharper than I intended. 

“I’m coming to you right now. You hear me, right now!”

I didn’t wait for his response, hanging up as I pushed back from the table. 

The entire board turned to look at me, surprise and confusion etched across their faces. 

“This meeting is over,” I snapped, already moving toward the door.

 “We’ll reconvene later.”

I didn’t look back. The moment I stepped outside, the heat hit me like a wall, but it did nothing to slow me down. 

The first person I spotted outside was Caleb my chaffeur leaning against the gate, idly scrolling through his phone. I didn’t have time for this.

“Caleb!” I yelled, my voice ricocheting off the nearby buildings. He nearly dropped his phone as he fumbled to attention.

“Get the keys now!,” I ordered, barely breaking stride. 

“We’re going to 312 East 54th Street. Now.”

I yanked open the passenger door and slid inside, my mind racing.

Inside the car, I didn’t care that Caleb was still fumbling with the keys, or that the engine was slow to start. 

“Hurry up!” My voice must have echoed through the parking lot because people turned to stare as Caleb finally pulled out with a screech of tires.

Minutes later as we sped through the city, my thoughts spiraled. *Why now?* My grandfather was always meticulous, never one to leave things to chance. 

“Could this be a prank? Some sick joke by the board? If it was, there’d be hell to pay. But if it wasn’t... what then could the old man have left behind that was so urgent? To the point of making me so clueless before the board.

We finally screeched to a stop in front of the office complex, a place that screamed of old money and quiet power. 

I didn’t wait for the car to fully stop before I was out, striding towards the entrance with a speed that made people jump out of my way. 

Inside, the receptionist barely had time to lift her head before I blew past her. I knew exactly where I was going Maxwell Pierce’s office, where the answers lay. The heavy wooden door banged open as I stormed in.

Once i was in, Maxwell Pierce looked up from his papers with a calm that only made my anger burn hotter. His hair was dyed a stark white, contrasting sharply with his dark suit. He waved the receptionist off, signaling her to close the doors behind me.

"Adrian," he said smoothly, gesturing toward a chair. 

"Take a seat please"

"I’m not here to sit," I snapped. 

"Just get to the point. What did my grandfather want what instruction?"

Maxwell regarded me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. Finally, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a file. He set it on the desk and slid it toward me, his fingers lingering on the edge of the paper as if reluctant to let it go.

I snatched it up and flipped it open. The first thing I saw was a single sheet of paper with my grandfather’s familiar handwriting. My heart skipped a beat as I read the verse at the top:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

Psalm 23. It was followed by a line that sent a shiver down my spine 

"Remember the promise."

The words pulled me into a memory, one I hadn’t revisited in years. I was a child again, sitting in my grandfather’s study, the scent of old books and pipe smoke thick in the air. 

He had read it to me from his worn Bible, the same verse. 

"One day, you’ll understand, Adrian, he had said, his voice soft but weighty. 

"There will be a time when you must stand alone, and this will guide you."

I could still feel his hand gripping mine, his eyes locking onto mine as if trying to impart some deep wisdom through that simple touch. The memory was so vivid, it was as though I could reach out and touch him again, feel the strength of his presence. 

I blinked, dragging myself back to the present. The verse and those words

“Remember the promise"

were a clear sign that this was no prank. This was my grandfather’s doing, and whatever was written in this document was his final wish. 

I braced myself and began to read the contents. As my eyes moved over the lines, my world seemed to tilt off its axis. The words blurred as the reality of what I was reading sank in. It wasn’t the verse, nor the memories that stunned me it was the content of the will itself. 

My mind struggled to comprehend it. I felt the blood drain from my face, my breath catching in my throat. The magnitude of what my grandfather had planned, the implications of the instructions he had left… it was beyond anything I could have imagined. 

I looked from the paper to Maxwell, seeking some sort of explanation, some way to make sense of this. But there was nothing. The paper slipped from my fingers and floated to the floor, the sound of its landing barely registering in the silence that had fallen over the room.

Maxwell leaned forward, concern flickering across his usually composed face. "Adrian? Are you all right?"

I couldn’t move. My legs felt like they were made of lead, my body frozen in place as the weight of my grandfather’s final wishes pressed down on me. Maxwell’s voice became a distant murmur as he called my name, trying to get my attention. But I was beyond reach, locked in my own mind, overwhelmed by the enormity of what I had just learned.

Finally, I turned slowly, every step feeling like I was moving through water. I walked out of the office in a daze, barely aware of Maxwell’s worried gaze following me. I felt like I had been struck down, the weight of my grandfather’s message pressing down on me until I could hardly breathe.

That evening, I sat alone in my expansive room, . I had just rejected my dinner, my stomach twisted in knots as my mind raced in circles. 

In the bathtub, I tried to let the water soothe my nerves, but it did nothing to quiet the storm inside me. The verse and my grandfather’s words kept replaying in my head, each repetition bringing more questions and fewer answers. 

"How? Where do I even begin?" I whispered to the empty room, the sound of my own voice jarring in the silence.

Just then, a knock on the door broke through my thoughts. Annoyed, I shouted, "

Didn’t I just say I’m not eating?"

But the voice of the chief maid had quickly echoed.

. "It’s not food, sir. It’s Barrister Pierce. He brought someone to see you."

“Hunh?”

I shot up from the bathtub, water splashing over the sides as I grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around myself, I yanked the door open and stormed past the maid, not even bothering to dry off

 My heart pounded as I rushed down the hallway, half expecting to see some new, unsettling surprise.

When I reached the large sitting room, only Barrister Pierce was there, sitting calmly as if this was just another routine visit.

 The sight of him set my nerves on edge, and I stiffened, my patience wearing thin as I walked toward him slowly.

"Who the hell did you say he brought?" I demanded, spinning around to face the maid who had followed me.

Before she could respond, Pierce spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension.

 "I wanted to tell you earlier back at the office, but you left just like that. Your grandfather also contracted me with the duty of recruiting his domestic workers. I brought someone capable to assist…."

His words barely registered. All I heard was the absurdity of it. I clenched my fists, anger bubbling up inside me.

 "You dragged me out here because you hired a cleaner? You’ve got to be kidding me!"

As I started to shout, the door opened behind me, and I spun around, ready to lash out.

 But the words died in my throat. Standing there was nothing close to a cleaner, but a stunningly beautiful woman. She was poised, elegant, and carried an air of quiet confidence that was completely out of place in this situation. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

I couldn’t speak. The room fell into a heavy silence as we held each other’s gaze, the tension crackling between us like a live wire. The questions, the anger, the confusion all of it was drowned out by the intensity of that single moment.

“Who is she?”

.