Silk and Shadows

I wake up at 5, as I do every day, but something’s different. The blaring sound of „Ding Ding Dong“ by Shan Joe jolts me awake. My girlfriend thinks it’s hilarious to mess with me by setting this as my alarm. Groaning, I slam my hand on the alarm clock to silence it and turn over. It’s been months since I started my own company—I should be used to this routine by now. Begrudgingly, I pull myself out of bed.

An hour in the gym, I think to myself. It’s non-negotiable. Fitness is as important as my company—it’s what earned me the title of „hottest rich man in the USA.“ My curly brown hair, perfectly tanned skin, and six-pack? They didn’t come for free.

As I leave my room, our butler is standing in the hallway. His presence still baffles me. My father insists on these luxuries, even though I’ve argued we don’t need them. “We’re a family,” he says. A family with a butler and a house so big I need a map. Sure.

You’re probably wondering why I, the heir to a fortune, still live under my father’s roof instead of in a villa with a pool. Truth is, my father finances my company—and right now, the company isn’t exactly thriving. The economic crisis hit hard, and I’m in no position to refuse his support. His one rule? „We live together like a normal family.“ But we’re anything but normal.

I stride down the hall toward the gym. After an intense session, I shower and slip into my navy blue suit. The elevator whisks me down to the underground garage, where my pride and joy await: a fleet of fast cars. Today, it’s my Rolls-Royce Ghost. I press the button to open the garage door and speed out into the city, heading for the Brown Tower—my company’s headquarters.

The tower looms ahead, 15 floors of gleaming glass. To avoid reporters, I had an underground parking lot constructed. I’m the only one with direct access to the lobby. As I step out of the elevator, the staff nod at me. Their fear is palpable. My motto? „No strictness, no pay.“ It’s harsh, but necessary.

Claire, my assistant, greets me in the lobby. “Good morning, sir. How are you?”

I nod curtly. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“As you requested, nothing pressing. Today’s your nephew’s birthday, remember?”

I grunt in acknowledgment as we step into the private elevator. Only Claire and I have access to the 15th floor—my floor.

As the elevator begins ist ascent, it shudders, then grinds to a halt. My jaw tightens. Not today. Claire immediately calls emergency services. Beside me, a sweaty man starts fidgeting. The air grows stifling.

“Claire, where’s the technician?” I snap.

“He’s on his way, Mr. Brown.”

The man beside me looks ready to faint, his sweat dripping onto the floor. The smell is unbearable. I breathe deeply, forcing myself to remain calm.

Finally, the elevator jolts back to life, and we continue upward. The sweaty man stumbles out on the next floor, leaving Claire and me in silence.

When we reach my office, I stride in and slam the door behind me. A mountain of documents awaits on my desk. With a press of a button, I summon Claire.

“I don’t want to be disturbed today. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she replies. Her voice wavers slightly, but I hang up before I can care.

Hours pass. I’m buried in work when the door to my office bursts open. I look up, ready to reprimand Claire, but it’s not her. Two men in suits stand in the doorway.

“Who the hell are you?” I demand.

Before they can answer, I bark into my intercom. “Claire! Get in here now!”

She enters, eyes glued to the floor. “Mr. Brown, I—I’m sorry,” she stammers. “They—they threatened me with a gun.”