CHAPTER 1: Fallen Heir
Rainwater still clung stubbornly to the cracked roads outside Eastbridge National University. The sky above the city carried the pale gray color of an unfinished storm, and the cold morning breeze swept dust, fallen leaves, and the smell of gasoline through the crowded campus entrance.
Students walked in groups beneath umbrellas and designer jackets. Luxury cars rolled past the gates one after another.
A black Mercedes, silver Maseratis and a white Range Rover with tinted windows. Then—A worn black delivery motorcycle slowly entered behind them, its engine sounding rough and strained compared to the smooth growl of the expensive cars around it.
The rider removed one hand from the handle and adjusted the large insulated delivery box strapped behind him. His movements were practiced.
Calm. Tired.
Adrian Reed finally parked near the old side building beside the business faculty. For a few seconds, he remained seated on the motorcycle silently.
The cold wind brushed against his face. His eyes looked slightly exhausted, with faint dark circles beneath them, but they were still sharp enough to make people unconsciously avoid staring too long.
He exhaled quietly before removing his helmet. Dark slightly messy hair fell over his forehead.
His face was handsome in a clean and refined way, though noticeably leaner than someone who once grew up surrounded by luxury. His black jacket carried traces of rain and dust, and the sleeves were slightly faded from overuse. Beneath it was a simple gray shirt that had already lost most of its original color after countless washes.
His gloves were cheap. His shoes had visible wear around the edges. But despite everything—There remained something difficult to erase from him. The posture. The restraint. The calmness in his eyes. The traces of upbringing that wealth once carved deeply into a person.
Adrian quickly hung the helmet on the motorcycle handle before checking the time on his old phone.
9:51 AM. His expression tightened instantly. "Damn..." The lecture starts by ten.
Without wasting another second, he grabbed his bag and rushed toward the business administration building.
Students passing by immediately noticed him. Some looked away awkwardly. Some whispered. Some smirked openly.
After all—Almost everyone in Eastbridge University knew who Adrian Reed used to be. Or rather—What the Reed family used to be.
Years ago, the Reed Group stood among the most influential conglomerates in the country.
Real estate. Shipping. Technology. Luxury hotels.
The Reed family possessed influence so terrifying that even top business figures treated them cautiously.
At their peak, many believed the Reeds would eventually become the wealthiest family in the nation. And Adrian—Adrian Reed was once the young master everyone tried desperately to befriend. Until everything collapsed.
——————————
Years ago.
Helena Reed died on a storming night in late autumn.
Outside the hospital, rain battered the city endlessly while the Reed Family’s convoy lined the streets beneath flashing lights. Inside, doctors and nurses moved hurriedly through white corridors heavy with tension.
And at exactly 2:17 AM, Victor Reed—Adrians' father was born.
At exactly 2:26 AM—Helena Reed died from severe complications after childbirth.
For years afterward, nobody within the Reed Family dared openly speak about that night. Not in front of Tristan Reed. Not in front of Victor.
Some tragedies became too deeply rooted inside a family to ever truly disappear. They simply changed shape over time. And in the Reed Family—That tragedy became silence.
At the time, the Reed Family already stood at the summit of Verdant City’s old-money hierarchy. Their ancestral business, Blackthorn Holdings, possessed influence that stretched through manufacturing.
Unlike rising wealthy families obsessed with publicity and modern luxury, the Reeds operated with old authority. Quiet authority.
The kind that didn’t need to announce itself loudly because everyone already understood its weight.
Judges attended Reed banquets personally. Government officials maintained careful relationships with them. Even major business figures lowered their voices around Tristan Reed.
And Tristan himself—Was a difficult man to understand. Cold without being cruel. Distant without appearing heartless. A man who carried responsibility with almost mechanical discipline.
Meanwhile Victor grew under the care of tutors, attendants, and elderly housekeepers rather than parents. As a child, he learned very early how to recognize silence.
The silence of empty hallways. The silence of locked study doors. The silence of adults who looked at him with pity when they thought he wasn’t paying attention.
Then—Two years later—Tristan Reed returned home one evening with another woman. Vivian Laurent.
Tall. Elegant. Soft-spoken. And already pregnant.
