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
RICHARD'S POVI was at home, chatting with my mother as she lounged in her favorite chair, looking more tired than usual. “Richard, you know,” she said with a weak smile, “you should start thinking about settling down. A wife might do you some good. Moreover, I need to see my grandchildren before I die, I'm old already.”I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Mom, you’re not old. You’re just a bit sick. Once you’re through with this transplant business, you’ll be back to your old self in no time.”She gave me a tired but appreciative smile. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to think about it, you know.”Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen—Amelia’s name flashed up. I excused myself from Mom and answered the call. “Hey, Amelia. What’s up?”Her voice was fraught with urgency. “Richard, you need to come over to my place right now. It’s important. Please, hurry.”My heart skipped a beat. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”“I can’t explain over the phone. Just get h
RICHARD’S POV As soon as Gilbert had slammed the door behind him, the room seemed to exhale a collective sigh of relief. But it wasn’t long before Amelia’s grandmother turned her attention to me, her eyes blazing with fury.“Richard! How dare you talk to Mr. Gilbert like that?” she scolded, her voice dripping with disapproval.I crossed my arms, trying to keep my cool. “I’ve already expressed my interest in Amelia. It’s disrespectful to encourage another man to pursue her when I’ve made my intentions clear.”Amelia’s grandmother sniffed, her expression a mix of anger and disdain. “Disrespectful? The only disrespectful thing here is you talking back to someone like Mr. Gilbert. He’s a powerful man, and you—well, you’re nothing compared to him.”My jaw tightened. “So, what, I’m supposed to just stand by and let him steamroll over everyone? I don’t think so.”She didn’t miss a beat. “And since Amelia’s grandfather is ill, I’m the one who will decide who will marry Amelia. Not you, not G
RICHARD'S POVI got home and collapsed into my chair, staring at my laptop screen. I needed to figure out a way to stop Amelia’s marriage to Langston Gilbert. I typed his name into Google, half-expecting to find out he’s a saint or something. Instead, I was met with a mountain of information about his oil trade empire and other exchange activities. The man was indeed a big shot. Damn it.“Of course he’s a big shot,” I muttered to myself. “A man like him always seems to have his fingers in every pie.”I scrolled through article after article. Gilbert was an oil tycoon, involved in all sorts of trading and investments. His name was everywhere, making headlines for his business acumen and high-profile deals.The search results were not surprising. Langston Gilbert was a big shot in the oil trade and some kind of exchange trade. Just the kind of guy who could make powerful enemies and, apparently, get whatever he wanted. I cursed under my breath. This guy was a real heavyweight, and it m