Hours passed, and the luxury sedan glided to a halt at the airport. The sleek vehicle's soft hum dissipated as Bradley, his assistant, Greg, and Dylan emerged onto the tarmac. Bradley's composed voice cut through the air, resonating with authority and respect as he addressed Greg, "Mr. Von Ritcher, kindly await here momentarily. I shall oversee the arrangements for your flight." Greg met Bradley's gaze with a nod of understanding. "Thank you, Bradley. I value your assistance." With those words, Bradley and his assistant strolled toward the waiting private jet, leaving Greg and Dylan in the midst of the bustling airport. After Bradley left, Greg's mind, which still buzzed with the 'F' symbol immediately seized the opportunity, and discreetly snapped a photo of the cross with the 'F' keychain hanging in the car. Swiftly, he forwarded the image to his subordinate, along with a terse message instructing them to delve into its significance. Meanwhile, Dylan's gaze flickered between Greg
[Breaking News! A flurry of reporters has been spotted at Bluebell Airport, and you won't believe who they're chasing this time! It's none other than The Second Heir himself! Rumor has it that he's about to board a flight to Struggl City to oversee operations at one of the Von Ritcher companies. And it’s not just any company, but Behav—the pharmaceutical giant! And now the reporter was fighting to snap a photo of this genius second heir, who was also said to be the future Von Ritcher’s sole heir!] *** Mara sat in her usual corner at The Oldy Cafe, her gaze fixed on the television screen mounted on the wall. The breaking news segment had captured her attention, and her mind was abuzz with the implications of what she had just heard. “Oh… So The Second Heir is now works on Struggl, huh?” she thought before a waitress approached her table, placing a plate of steaming spaghetti aglio olio before her. "Here you go, ma'am. Enjoy your meal,” the waitress said with a warm smile. "Thank y
Greg's heart raced as the reporters closed in, their camera flashes creating a blinding wall of light. Panic surged through his veins, his mind racing for an escape route. There seemed no way out, no escape from the relentless pursuit that threatened to expose his hidden identity.Amidst the chaos, Rika’s words hung in the air, her eyes fixed on Greg with unwavering determination. “Hey,” she repeated, her voice firm yet calm. “I think I’ve got an idea. But… Do you trust me?”Greg's gaze darted from the advancing reporters back to Rika, a brief moment of hesitation in his eyes. He knew time was running out and the weight of the choice ahead was palpable. But in that pivotal moment, Greg realized that trust was the only choice they had left.With a quick nod, Greg mustered his trust and said. “I do. Please lead the way."A flicker of relief crossed Rika's features, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Good," she affirmed, her confidence unwavering. "Just follow me."Without another w
The interior of the Von Ritcher private jet exuded luxury and sophistication. Plush leather seats, sleek metal accents, and soft ambient lighting created an atmosphere of comfort and exclusivity.As the door to the jet closed with a satisfying thud, Greg and Dylan exchanged glances, each exhaling a sigh of relief.Dylan flopped into a nearby seat, his posture relaxed yet his expression still tinged with astonishment. "Well, that was quite the experience. I never thought we'd be chased by a thousand reporters today."Greg’s lips quivered into a wry smile, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been chased like that. I kind of forgot how it feels.”His words carried a mixture of nostalgia and self-deprecating humor. The memory of his younger days when he was often hounded by the media felt like a distant echo. The passage of time had transformed him from an elusive enigma into a discreet presence, skilled at evading prying eyes.Dylan chuckled, his gaze shif
As they resumed their discussion, Bradley's demeanor gradually shifted from one of intense remorse to a more balanced composure. The conversation flowed smoothly, ideas exchanged, and plans solidified for the future of the company and its projects. And then, in the midst of their conversation, Greg's attention shifted subtly. He glanced towards the open door of the private jet, a thought flickering in his mind. "So, Mr. Smith," Greg's voice carried a casual tone, "I've noticed that Rika isn't here with us. Is she attending to something else?" Bradley's brows furrowed slightly, his gaze following Greg's to the empty doorway. He paused for a moment, his response thoughtful. "Ah, Rika? Well, I don't know, but previously She mentioned something about checking on the arrangements for the flight and ensuring that everything is proceeding smoothly." he said."Is something matter, M. Von Ritcher?" Greg's lips quivered in a half-smile, his gaze still on the doorway."Oh, it's nothing major. I
Havenwood Estate stood as a testament to the legacy of the Von Ritcher family. Its grandeur was a reflection of their prestige, a sanctuary of opulence hidden within the picturesque landscapes of Central Struggl. As Greg and Dylan stepped onto the grounds, the air seemed to hum with a sense of history and privilege."So, this is Havenwood, huh?" Dylan mused, his voice tinged with admiration. Greg nodded."Yes, it is. It's your first time here, right?"Dylan nodded in response. "Yeah, it is. Wow... It looks cool, I never imagined that it would be this lavish... It's like a mini version of Von Ritcher estate.”Greg chuckled. "Sure it is. Grandpa is the one who requested it to make it not hard to remember the room."Dylan grinned. "Well, that really sounds like Master Von Ritcher, always has a way of adding a personal touch to everything."The two of them made their way toward the entrance of the estate, where the welcoming ambiance extended. The pristine marble floors, the exquisite ar
As the conversation settled, the sleek BMW sedan smoothly maneuvered through the bustling city streets, drawing closer to their destination. The urban landscape transformed from the elegance of Havenwood Estate to the vibrant heart of North Struggl.Finally, Bradley's skilled driving brought them to a stop in front of the impressive structure. The building's modern architecture stood tall against the backdrop of the city's skyline, a testament to innovation and success.Bradley turned off the engine and glanced at Greg through the rearview mirror. "We've arrived at Behav, Mr. Von Ritcher."Greg nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes fixed on the imposing edifice before them. "So, this is the new Behav building," he mused, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.Exiting the car, Greg and his companions took a moment to take in the sight of the pharmaceutical company's headquarters. A striking blend of glass and steel, the building exuded an air of authority, showcasing B
The calm ambiance of the Behav pharmaceutical shop was shattered as a sudden commotion erupted at the entrance. The once-muted buzz of conversation escalated into shouts and exclamations, causing heads to turn in alarm. Greg, Dylan, and Rika spun around to face the entrance, their gazes locking onto the source of the disturbance. But before anyone could react, a series of rapid movements unfolded before them. Like a bolt of lightning, a figure lunged forward from the crowd, his expression contorted with anger. But before he could reach his intended target, strong arms wrapped around his struggling form. Behav's security personnel had acted swiftly, restraining the man before he could reach the trio. The intruder was none other than an elderly man, his appearance worn by the years and his clothing simple, a stark contrast to the polished environment of Behav. Wrinkles etched deep lines on his weathered face, and his eyes blazed with a fierce intensity that spoke of unrelenting determ