Cameras flashed like lightning strikes across the grand entrance of the Mandarin Continental, where the International Global Business Conference was underway. The Mandarin Continental in Jakarta had never seen such a crowd. The marble staircase, once just a luxurious decor, now felt like a royal aisle as Pratama Wijaya stepped out of the black Maybach, flanked by men in charcoal suits. Silence didn’t exist here, Reporters surged toward the convoy of black cars like waves crashing against a wall as their Cameras clicked continuously non-stop, trying to catch even the slightest reaction from Pratama Wijaya, the elusive yet commanding CEO of Pratama Group. “Mr. Wijaya! Mr Wijaya! Sir, is it true that’s your grandson?” “Where has he been all these years?” “Why was he kept away from the company?” “Is he officially taking over the Pratama Group?” “Sir! Just one statement—please!” But the man himself, stoic, unreadable, dressed in a sharp charcoal grey suit didn’t offer a sin

The gala lights still sparkled, but for Raka Pratama, the night had already shifted into something colder. He stood in a quiet corner of the event lounge, tablet in hand, eyes narrowed at the name that glared back at him: Mahardika International Group. It was sleek. Strategic. Maliciously timed. He didn’t need more details to know what Raza Mahardika was doing. It was a game of business territory, the oldest kind of war between men who wore suits instead of armor and signed takeovers instead of treaties. “He’s trying to move into logistics,” said Siska, his assistant, standing beside him. “They’re offering buyouts to our smaller partners. Quietly. He must’ve planned this weeks ago.” Raka didn’t flinch. “Then we move louder.” He slipped the tablet under his arm and strode back into the ballroom,not to party, but to gather. Within ten minutes, three department heads from Pratama Group had been pulled from conversations and were now listening in a dimly lit VIP corner.

It was another Day at the executive boardroom at Pratama Group, the boardroom with the masterpiece of sleek glass and steel. But today, even beneath the polished elegance, tension crackled in the air. Raka Pratama sat at the head of the table, calm, composed, his eyes surveying the room like a man who had already won. But not everyone saw a victor. “With all due respect, Pak Wijaya,” Mr. Leonard Halim, a senior director began, clearly addressing Raka’s grandfather across the table, “it’s unprecedented to hand over such reins so quickly. The young man has not climbed the ranks, he's only just returned.” “He’s acquiring companies like it's a card game,” another added, bitterness slipping through his measured tone. “Does he even understand the internal structure of our conglomerate?” Murmurs of agreement floated around. Raka’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t flinch. He folded his hands together and leaned forward, his voice calm but steely. “You’re right.” He paus

The ballroom glittered like something out of a dream. Jakarta’s elite gathered for the Citra Gala, an exclusive event honoring new business contributors in the Southeast Asia trade circle. Diamonds gleamed. Laughter floated. Waiters passed flutes of imported champagne like tradition. Nadine Mahardika stepped out of the luxury car in a gown that hugged her like it was stitched with royalty in mind. Her mother, Rini Santoso, wore deep emerald, lips pulled tight in satisfaction as camera flashes bathed them in light. They weren’t guests tonight. They were power. “Smile, Ma. This is what they never thought we’d become,” Nadine said, her voice light but laced with the sting of triumph. Rini nodded, eyes sweeping over the crowd. “Where are the people who called us ordinary now?” Inside the ballroom… Nadine and Rini floated between guests, laughing at jokes only the powerful understood. Their business,funded by Raza, had made headlines. “S&N Luxe Studio: The Next Fashion

After the Press conference, Mr. Leonard Halim walk to Ms. Geraldine Sutanto as they both walk to their cars parked waiting for them. Raka may have the authority, but legacy doesn’t mean readiness. The Chairman can’t expect us to sit idle while a young man who until last year, wasn’t even known in business circles begins acquiring companies and making executive decisions.” He added. Ms. Geraldine Sutanto halted, her eyes sharp with disappointment. You're Right Mr.Leonard. “There is a structure in this board. We follow procedures, not fairy tales.” This is not a family sitcom.The boy cannot return and takes over the empire like it's a birthday gift?” we'll see to it, Mr. Leonard said as they both parted towards their vehicles. *** Later That Day Across the city, while the board’s unrest brewed, a woman stood at the rooftop of a skyscraper overlooking the city skyline. She was elegance incarnate. A vision in a structured black suit, her heels clicking softly as she took a cal