Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, I stare out at the glittering Colorado skyline.
People would kill for this view. But for me, it's just a constant reminder of the empire I built—and what I'll eventually walk away from.
The city below is alive, buzzing with energy. Cars zip down the streets, pedestrians hurry along, none of them carrying the weight of a name like Stahom.
It's ironic, really. The world looks at me and sees success, yet all I feel is the gnawing dissatisfaction of not fitting into the mold my family's legacy tried to force me into. My phone buzzes in my pocket and for the millionth time today, I'm glad I didn't fit in. I don't even need to look at the screen to know who it is.
Him.
My Father called for the second time today. The first time, I ignored him because—well, I'm just not in the mood. Now, I let it go to voicemail out of pure principle. Being a good son wasn't on my to-do list today and I've made my peace with the fact that I'll never be the man my father wanted.
Charles Stahom is the Toughest businessman in the game—hard, calculating, with just enough charm to make people forget what he's capable of. I, on the other hand, knew my Father very well, some would even say I was like him but still I took everything he taught me and still turned out... different.
He has my older brother Benjamin for that. Benjamin was the Stahom heir from birth. Groomed to take over KD Group, molded from a young age to embody everything our father believed a leader should be. Then there's James, the youngest. The tabloids love him—always painting him as the golden boy. He's been charming the press since his teenage years. And me? Well, I'm the middle child. The one who often wonders where the hell I fit into all of this.
I glance at my watch—8:30 AM. Time to get moving. Sure, I'm the owner and CEO of a multi-million dollar company, but that doesn't mean I get to stroll in late. Being on time is a non-negotiable principle I live by and judge others by. Your punctuality says a lot about the kind of person you are. As I lean to grab my phone from the table, I take one last look at the skyline. I should be feeling something—a sense of pride or accomplishment—but all I feel is an odd sense of detachment. I press the elevator button, waiting for it to whisk me down to the garage.
When the doors open, I see my driver already standing by the car, waiting. Five years. That's how long he's worked for me, and in those five years, he's never been late. I respect that. Being on time says a lot about a person.
I'm glad the drive goes smoothly, less traffic than usual, which gives me a rare moment of peace. No unnecessary delays, no stops. It's almost relaxing. Almost.
Stepping into the office always felt like breathing fresh air. This is what I built, my Legacy. And unlike the Stahom name, there's no trace of my father's money here. This—every inch of this company—is mine. It's the one thing that I don't have to share with my family, and that thought keeps me grounded.
Stepping into my office on the top floor, Heather, my assistant, is waiting by the elevator when the doors open.
"Good morning, Mr. Stahom. Meeting with Lauren Veno and her team at 10:00 AM, followed by a conference call with the foreign investors at noon." I barely hear the rest. I already know the schedule, but I let her run through it out of habit. As I nod and head into my office, I can't help but feel that today will be a good day. Something in the air just feels... right.
Turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong. By the time the meeting with Lauren rolled around, everything had already started going south. Her team sat across from me, all polished and smug, offering a deal so low I'm not even sure if it was meant as a joke, if it was, they needed to do better.
"You, of all people, should know how hard it is to be respected in this industry," Lauren's manager says, smug as ever. "We're doing you a favor here. My client is one of the top actors in the world. Working with her would elevate your company to new heights." I force myself not to laugh. A favor? Please, I didn't build this company on favors. If I had, I'd be broke. The amount they're offering isn't just insulting—it's laughable. I decline, of course, and they ask for "time to think it over." Time? Yeah, right. They'll be back, and I wished to God they'd just spare me the theatrics of going through this again. The minute the meeting ends, my mood sours and I decide to cancel the call with the investors, because I know I wouldn't be able to focus on anything they said and might even end up making mistakes. I needed space, so I could think straight, but first I needed to get out of here.
Before Heather could say anything, I grabbed my keys and headed for the elevator. I don't even bother telling the driver I needed to be behind the wheel had the sudden need to feel in control of something right now.
Settling into the driver seat, I pull out of the driveway and drive aimlessly through the city. I don't know where I'm going, and I don't care. All I know is that I can't stay cooped up in that office for another minute.The skyscrapers blur past me as I speed through the streets, my thoughts racing as fast as the car. What the hell am I even doing? There's this constant pressure, this weight that never lets up. Even when I think I've escaped it, it's still there, lurking. I've built everything I have, but for what? To prove something to my father? To Benjamin? Or maybe, deep down, I just wanted to prove it to myself. I grip the steering wheel tighter. No. This isn't about them. It's never been about them.But as much as I try to tell myself that, I can't shake the feeling that I'll never truly outrun the name "Stahom."
I don't realize how fast I'm going till I hit a Bakery sign by the street.