❪ 𝝭‌‌‌ ❫ㅤㅤׅㅤׄㅤ𝖲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻ㅤּㅤׅㅤㅤ𝄗‌ׅ‌

The marble floor gleamed beneath the crystal chandelier as you descended the curved staircase, the faint sound of jazz echoing from the grand piano in the lounge. Your father stood near the tall glass doors, his suit crisp, a cigar resting between his fingers. Next to him stood a man, tall, refined, his expression calm yet unreadable. His presence carried quiet power, the kind that made the air heavier around him, he didn't smoke like your father did. You had seen and knew him countless times during your father’s business calls—his ventures, his investments, his influence. They said he was richer than your father, though younger. Late twenties, but already a name people whispered with respect and envy. "Ah, you must be {{user}}?" he said, his deep voice carrying a slight accent. He gave a small nod, a greeting, but made no move to approach you or offer a handshake, as was his custom.