Sitting at the head of the long, polished mahogany table, I gazed out over the faces of my family. The grand dining room was drenched in an opulent glow from the crystal chandelier above, casting a warm light on the marble floors and the priceless art that adorned the walls. My father, still the intimidating figure he'd always been, sat on my right, his expression stern, as though his mere presence could command the universe. My mother, elegant and poised, sat to my left, her eyes filled with a determination that only intensified the longer she looked at me.
My younger brother, Damien, lounged across from me, a smirk playing on his lips as he casually sipped from a crystal tumbler. He didn't need to say anything for me to know what he was thinking—he found this whole situation amusing.
As for me, I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming on the table as I listened to my parents' persistent barrage of questions and demands.
"Karl, you need to think about your future," my father said, his voice low and commanding. "The board is growing restless. They're questioning your commitment, your stability. You're thirty-five years old, and you're still not married."
"People are starting to talk," my mother added, her tone softer but no less insistent. "You're the head of a multibillion-dollar empire, Karl. The Tanners are expecting you to lead by example."
I gave a slight nod, not bothering to respond immediately. They had been harping on this subject for years, and it was always the same tired arguments: the board, the shareholders, the expectations. But it was the subtle undertones in my mother's voice that told me where this conversation was really heading.
"Karl," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned forward, "is there something you're not telling us? Do you…prefer men?"
My fingers stopped drumming, and I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. The room fell silent as everyone waited for my response. But I wasn't about to indulge them. I wasn't about to justify myself to anyone, not even my own family. I had always been a man of few words, preferring action over meaningless conversations.
"No," I replied, my voice cold and emotionless. I saw my mother's eyes flicker with something—relief, perhaps, or disappointment. It was hard to tell.
She recovered quickly, though, and straightened in her seat. "Then we'll find someone for you," she said firmly. "There are plenty of suitable women out there—strong, beautiful women who could help solidify your position and make this family proud."
I didn't respond. What was the point? It wasn't like I could stop them from meddling, and I had bigger concerns than their futile attempts at matchmaking.
Damien, ever the joker, grinned at me from across the table. "Come on, big brother," he teased, his voice light and playful. "Mom's just looking out for you. And who knows? Maybe you'll meet someone who can actually crack that icy exterior of yours."
I shot him a look, one that might have cowed a lesser man, but Damien only laughed. We had always had a close bond, despite our differences. He was the only one who could get away with teasing me like that, and he knew it.
"Well, if you're done with your interrogation," I said, rising from my seat and buttoning my suit jacket, "I have work to do."
"Always work with you," my father muttered, though there was a grudging respect in his tone. "Remember, Karl, this family comes first."
I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging the sentiment without committing to it, then turned and left the room. My secretary, Alice, a woman as sharp and efficient as any member of my executive team, fell into step beside me as I exited the mansion.
"Everything on schedule, Alice?" I asked as we made our way to the car waiting outside.
"Yes, Mr. Tanner," she replied briskly, her tablet in hand. "Your meeting with the East Asian investors is confirmed for tomorrow, and the conference call with the London office is set for this evening."
I nodded, satisfied. As always, Alice had everything under control. I slid into the backseat of the car, and she followed, sitting across from me. The driver started the engine, and we pulled out of the long driveway, the imposing Tanner estate shrinking behind us.
We hadn't been driving for long when the car came to an abrupt stop. I looked up, frowning as the driver glanced back at me through the rearview mirror.
"Sorry, Mr. Tanner," he said, sounding a little shaken. "I need to step out for a moment. Just…uh, nature's call."
"Make it quick," I replied curtly, glancing at my watch. I had no time for delays.
The driver nodded and hurried out of the car. I watched him disappear into the trees lining the road, my impatience growing with every passing second. I was abo ut to reach for my phone to check emails when the driver came sprinting back, his face pale.
"Mr. Tanner, you have to come see this," he said, breathless.
I narrowed my eyes, irritation flashing through me. "What is it?"
"Please, sir, it's a woman. She's hurt…badly."
My heart skipped a beat, a strange sense of foreboding settling over me. I didn't like being dragged into situations like this, but something in the driver's voice compelled me to get out of the car. Alice followed, concern etched on her usually composed face.
We hurried through the trees, and it wasn't long before I saw her—Peyton, lying on the ground, bloodied and bruised, barely clinging to life. My breath caught in my throat as I knelt beside her, my mind racing.
"Peyton," I murmured, recognizing her instantly. She was the wife of Lucas Hamilton, my fiercest rival in the business world. Seeing her like this, broken and abandoned, sent a rush of conflicting emotions through me—anger, disgust, and something else I couldn't quite place.
"We need to get her to a hospital," Alice said urgently, already dialing emergency services.
"No," I said sharply, stopping her. "No hospitals."
Alice looked at me, confused. "But Mr. Tanner—"
"Lucas Hamilton can't know about this," I said, my mind working quickly. "We'll take her to a private clinic. I know just the place."
Alice hesitated for a moment, then nodded, trusting my judgment as she always did. We carefully lifted Peyton into the car, my mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. As we sped towards the clinic, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much larger—a game of power and survival that I was now unwillingly a part of.