RICHARD’S POV The room buzzed with excitement as the MC stepped up to the microphone. His voice cut through the chatter, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight’s event! We’re here for a truly special piece—a painting by the renowned artist Banksy. Owning this masterpiece will not only grant you prestige but cement your legacy in this city.” The lights dimmed slightly, and a spotlight illuminated the painting. It was a striking piece, bold and thought-provoking, exactly what you’d expect from Banksy. I could feel the energy in the room shift as everyone’s attention focused on the artwork. The MC cleared his throat. “We’ll start the bidding at one million dollars.” The room erupted as paddles shot up from all corners. I raised mine, ready to play my part. Jonathan and William were already in the thick of it, their faces set in determined expressions. And then there were the other big players—top businessmen who didn’t mind throwing around their cash. The bids climbed quickl
I walked up to collect the painting, trying to ignore the envious glances and murmurs around me. As I reached the front, I could hear the businessman muttering curses under his breath. I met his gaze and gave him a nod, savoring the moment. “Congratulations,” the auctioneer said, shaking my hand. “You’ve made quite an impression.” “Thanks,” I replied, trying to keep my tone humble. “I just came here to make a statement.” When the room settled, people began to mingle and chat. I was basking in the afterglow of victory when my brothers stormed over. Jonathan’s face was a storm cloud, and William was right beside him, his fists clenched. “Richard!” Jonathan’s voice was sharp. “You think you can just waltz in here and steal the show?” “Steal?” I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I outbid everyone fair and square.” William’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a thief. You’re a poor, illegitimate son who somehow manages to pull thirty million dollars out of nowhere. Where the hell did
RICHARD'S POVI walked into my father’s house, already hearing the yelling from the hallway. Jonathan and William were at it again, their voices carrying through the walls. I couldn’t help but smirk as I approached the study.“You can’t be serious, Dad!” Jonathan’s voice was heated. “This is rigged! Richard’s just an illegitimate son. How is it fair to make us compete with him?”William chimed in, his frustration clear. “Yeah, and you’re saying we have to deal with these impossible tasks while Richard gets a free pass? It’s not right.”My father’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re unhappy with the tasks, there’s a simple solution: hand over your inheritance to Richard.”Jonathan and William were livid. “Are you kidding me?” Jonathan shouted. “You think we’d just roll over and let him take everything? This is bullshit!”William’s face was red with anger. “You’re making us compete against someone who’s not even your legitimate child! How is that fair?”I leaned against the
RICHARD’S POV Breakfast was usually my time to zone out. I had the news on in the background, just to drown out the quiet. But this morning, as I shoveled scrambled eggs into my mouth, the news anchor's voice cut through my haze.“Today, we’re covering the ongoing challenge from the city’s most famous chess prodigy, Victor Tusk. Tusk has remained unbeaten for five years, and now, there’s a chance for anyone who thinks they can outplay him to make history.”I nearly choked on my coffee. “Victor Tusk? Seriously?” I muttered, staring at the screen.The camera zoomed in on Tusk, a smug grin plastered across his face as he accepted a trophy. He looked like he was one short step away from claiming he was the messiah of chess. The whole thing was a spectacle, but something clicked in my mind. This was the challenge I needed.“Damn, that’s interesting,” I said, setting my coffee cup down with a decisive clink. My mind raced. This was exactly the kind of public challenge I needed. A chess pr
RICHARD’S POVI’d just gotten home and was kicking back when my phone rang. Amelia’s name popped up on the screen, and I answered with a casual, “Hey, Amelia.”“Richard, I just saw the announcement on TV! You really went big with this challenge, huh?” Her voice was a mix of surprise and excitement.I grinned, feeling a bit smug. “Yeah, I figured if I’m going to take this guy down, I might as well do it with style. Somebody needs to knock him off his high horse. And if I can publicly expose him while I’m at it, all the better.”She laughed, “You’re really something. I didn’t expect you to go this far. It’s impressive.”“Thanks,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I’ve got to make a statement. It’s not just about winning; it’s about showing everyone that you can’t mess with me. How can I help if you don’t go all out?”“Well, I’m really happy you took my advice,” she said warmly. “I’ll definitely be there to support you. Wish you luck!”I chuckled. “Luck’s nice and all, but I’m more abou
RICHARD’S POV The day of the chess challenge had arrived, and it felt like the city had turned out for the spectacle. As I approached the venue, a swarm of reporters descended on me like bees on honey. Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved in my face, and questions came at me from all directions.“Richard, what’s your strategy for today?” one reporter asked, trying to look past the crowd to get a better shot.“Just keeping it cool,” I replied, trying to avoid tripping over cables and people. “Any last-minute preparations?” another voice chimed in.“Not really. I’ve done what I can,” I said, waving a hand dismissively.Finally, I managed to escape the throng and make my way to the challenge arena. It was a huge hall, buzzing with the low hum of anticipation. As I scanned the room, my gaze fell on the chess prodigy himself, Victor Tusk. He was seated at the chessboard, looking every bit the part of an unassailable genius.But what really threw me off was the sight of my stepbrother
RICHARD’S POVAs soon as I declared checkmate, the arena erupted in cheers. It was like a stadium full of people had just seen the greatest upset in chess history. The roar of the crowd was deafening. I couldn’t help but bask in the glory of the moment.Victor Tusk, however, was not taking it well. He jumped out of his chair, his face flushed with anger. “You’re cheating! This is outrageous!” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at me.I raised an eyebrow and let out a chuckle. “Cheating? Really? You’re just sour because you lost.”“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Tusk continued to fume. “This is a complete travesty!”I shrugged, unbothered. “Look, if you think I’m cheating, we can settle this by bringing in some chess masters. The game’s recorded, after all.”Before Tusk could say another word, officials scurried off to call in the chess masters. The crowd’s murmurs turned into a buzz of curiosity. They were eager to see how this drama would unfold.The chess masters arrived swiftly,
RICHARD’S POV “I expected $1 million, and I got $1.5 million from Richard,” my father said, leaning back in his chair and flashing a proud smile. I leaned back in my own chair, soaking in the moment. The tension in the room was almost palpable. My brothers, Jonathan and William, looked like they were about to explode. They were frowning and tapping their feet impatiently, their faces a mix of frustration and resentment.“Looks like someone’s ahead of the game,” my father continued, glancing at me with approval. “Richard, you’ve outdone yourself. You’re miles ahead of your brothers.”Jonathan, clearly not happy about the situation, leaned forward with a sarcastic edge in his voice. “So, now that Richard’s way ahead, do we still need to bother with this task? Is there even a point?”My father’s eyes narrowed, and he shot Jonathan a sharp look. “Only losers give up. Just because Richard’s made progress doesn’t mean you get to slack off. The task is the task, and you all need to keep pu