Amelia’s POV The moment I stepped through the door, the weight of failure hung heavily on my shoulders. My family’s expectant eyes, wide and unblinking, followed my every move. I didn't need to look in their eyes to know; the air was thick with anticipation, their anxieties almost undeniable. The silence was broken only by the soft ticking of the grandfather clock, its pendulum swinging with the weight of the seconds that passed. A sorrowful exchange of glances danced between us, and with the fall of my gaze, their hearts sank.My grandma, Mrs. White, was the first to shatter the silence. “Well?" she demanded, her voice sharp as a knife's edge. “Amelia, darling, what happened?”I felt the collective breath of my family hitch as I hung my coat on the rack, my gaze lingering on the worn fabric, a silent testament to my defeat. My sad face must have betrayed the battle within.I swallowed hard, the words sticking like thorns in my throat. “Just like I told you, mother. He…he did not, an
Richard’s POVMy first day as CEO was a marathon of revelations and decisions. I'd spent hours sifting through countless files, unearthing the grim truth behind the hotel's declining fortunes. It was an uphill battle, but one I was determined to fight.As I sipped my coffee and reviewed the latest financial reports, a knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. It was Sarah, the head of our accounting department, a woman whose dedication and sharp mind I greatly admired.“Come in, Sarah,” I said with a welcoming smile. “What can I do for you?”She entered, a folder in her hand. “I’ve been going through the records, Sir, and I think I’ve found something significant,” she said, her tone serious.I leaned forward, intrigued. “Go on.”She opened the folder and spread out a series of documents on my desk. “These are the financial statements from the past three years. I noticed a pattern of discrepancies in the accounts managed by your stepbrothers.”"Show me," I demanded, my fingers already
Richard’s POVI never thought buying a car would feel like stepping into a battlefield, but there I was, standing in the gleaming showroom of Prestige Motors, facing a line of suits that looked at me like I'd just crawled out of a sewer. The smell of new leather and wax couldn't mask the stench of their disdain."Can I help you?" The voice came from a smirking salesman with a tie so shiny I could see my reflection in it. He looked me up and down, taking in my simple jeans and the faded logo on my t-shirt that made him look down on me, "Or are you just here to waste our time?"I was dressed in a very simple and casual outfit. They had no idea who I was or what I was capable of, and that was exactly how I liked it. I smiled to myself. It was going to be a good day,"I'm interested in buying a car," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the heat rising in my cheeks.“Are you sure you're at the right place?” He smirked, glancing back at his colleagues, who snickered. “Maybe the used car
Richard’s POVI shook the young saleswoman's hand. Her grip was firm, her smile wide. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “This... this means a lot.”“Just doing what’s right,” I said. “Everyone deserves respect, regardless of how they look or what you think they can afford.”She was the kind of salesperson who knew her trade, her pitch perfect, yet not overbearing. It was clear that she was being wasted on the showroom floor. So, I decided to make her an offer she couldn't refuse."I must say, you've got a knack for this," I said, as we walked towards the exit, the scent of new car leather trailing behind us.She flashed a polite smile, "Thank you, Mr...?""Richard. Just Richard," I replied, "And speaking of knacks, I believe you've got one that's being underutilized here.""Oh?" she arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued."Ever considered being a personal assistant?" I asked casually, as though I was inquiring about the weather.She gave a small laugh, "I can't say it's ever crossed my mi
Richard’s POVThe day was bustling with the usual flurry of activities at the hotel when an elegant envelope caught my attention among the stack of mail on my desk. My name, Richard Thorne, was embossed on the front with such precision that it momentarily redirected my focus from the quarterly reports on my screen."Jenny," I called out without looking up, knowing my new Personal Assistant would be within earshot. She was always close, anticipating the needs I hadn't voiced yet."Yes, Mr. Richard?" Jenny appeared in the doorway, her iPad clutched like a shield."Would you mind?" I said, nodding towards the envelope. “What’s that?” She asked.“Seems like an invitation. To a business auction. Have a look, will you?" I handed it over, curiosity piqued but discipline holding my focus on the quarterly reports.She crossed the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood, and picked up the invitation. Her slender fingers broke the seal delicately, unfolding the parchment with practiced ca
Richard’s POVThe day of the auction arrived, Jenny and I arrived in style, pulling up in my silver Aston Martin. It was held in a sleek, modern building that towered over the city.Within the premises, I could feel the curious gazes of the other businessmen and bidders already present, their eyes lingering on me as I stepped out of the car. The valet took the keys with a nod, and we made our way to the main entrance.“Richard, are you sure this was a good idea?" Jenny asked, her hand clutching mine tightly.I flashed a thin smile and took Jenny's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We're here, aren't we? Let's just enjoy the experience."Though I was deeply entrenched in my own thoughts, the murmur of the crowd was impossible to ignore. My newly acquired wealth has earned me the spotlight, and I can feel the weight of every gaze, the whispers sharp enough to slice through the hum of conversation.“Look, it’s Richard, the overnight billionaire,” I overheard one man mutter to his co
Richard's POVThe atmosphere was electric, and I could sense the competitive spirit of the bidders around me. The auctioneer took his place, and the room hushed. His voice boomed through the hall, announcing the start of the bidding for the first item.Without any delay, the event kicked off, the bids came flying, and soon the item was sold to a determined bidder. The auction started at a leisurely pace, each item drawing interest. Paintings, sculptures, and jewels passed from old owners to new with the rhythmic chant of the auctioneer's call.The process repeated for several more items, each one drawing enthusiastic bids from the crowd. The first few items were a warm-up, the crowd flexing their financial muscles on paintings and paintings. But each item that came and went was a mere opener to the grand finale – the AI device that had everyone's attention."Remember, folks," the auctioneer's voice cut through the murmur, "the piece de resistance of our evening will be presented last.
Richard’s POVThe auctioneer’s final call was still ringing in my ears when the hall erupted into a chorus of murmurs and applause. I stood there, amidst the throng of tailored suits and gleaming cufflinks, with the faintest of smiles hiding the rush of adrenaline. The crowd parted for me, a sea of faces awash with astonishment as they came forward to shake my hand, to slap my back, to utter words of hollow congratulations."Richard! That was a bold move!" exclaimed a portly man with a cigar wedged between his fingers, his eyes filled with respect.I offered him a sly grin, feeling the surge of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "Sometimes, you have to play big to win big," I replied, accepting his hearty handshake. I could feel the weight of every gaze as I stood there, the victorious bidder at $50 million. Flashes from cameras danced around me like fireflies on a summer’s night. Reporters, eager for a scoop, were weaving through the crowd to reach me. "Richard, what’s your