Chapter 1 (The Weight of the Crown)
The rain fell in relentless sheets, pounding against the tall glass windows of the sprawling mansion. Lightning flashed intermittently, illuminating the grand halls that were now eerily silent, save for the distant crackling of thunder.
At the heart of it all stood Ariana Collins, the youngest daughter of the Collins empire, staring blankly out of the window, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the letter that had changed her life forever. Her father was dead.
The man who had built one of the most powerful business empires in the country, the man who had raised her with the belief that the world was theirs for the taking, was gone. She could still hear his deep voice, echoing in her mind, "One day, Ariana, you'll understand the weight of responsibility. It's not a burden, it's a crown." But now, that crown felt like an iron chain around her neck. "Ariana!" Her sister, Elena, stormed into the room, her face flushed with anger and grief.
Elena, the elder sibling, had always been the rebel, the one who chose freedom over family duty. "I can't believe this is happening. First, Dad… and now this!" She waved a piece of paper in front of Ariana's face. "What are you talking about?" Ariana's voice was barely more than a whisper. "This!" Elena practically threw the paper at her. Ariana took it hesitantly, already knowing what it contained. It was the official declaration from their father's lawyers.
Ariana Collins had been named as the sole heir to the Collins empire. Not Elena, not their mother, but her—Ariana, the twenty-three-year-old who had just graduated with a degree in business management.
The weight of it all hit her like a punch to the gut. "I don't want it," Ariana whispered, her hands trembling as she held the paper. "Well, too bad," Elena snapped. "It's yours now. The entire company. The board. The responsibilities. All of it. You were always Dad's favorite. I guess this just proves it." Elena's words dripped with bitterness, but Ariana could hear the pain beneath them.
They had both lost their father, but now it felt like she was losing her sister, too. "Elena, please, don't do this." Ariana's eyes pleaded with her sister's, but Elena turned away, running a hand through her long dark hair in frustration. "I never wanted any of this, Ariana. You know that. I wanted to be free, to live my own life. But you... you always followed the rules, always did what Dad wanted. Well, congratulations, now you're going to live with it." Elena's voice broke, and for a brief moment, the anger gave way to the raw grief they both shared.
"I can't stay here," Elena muttered, grabbing her coat from the chair. "I'm leaving." "Elena, wait" But the door slammed before Ariana could finish. The sound echoed in the cavernous room, leaving Ariana standing alone in the silence. The mansion felt colder than ever, as if the heart of it had died along with her father.
She sank into the plush leather chair behind her father's desk, feeling the enormity of the moment crash over her. The desk was large, dominating the room, just like the man who had once sat behind it. Now it belonged to her. Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking the oppressive quiet. It was a text from her best friend, Claire. "Are you okay? Heard the news. I'm on my way over." Ariana sighed.
Claire had always been her rock, the one who pulled her out of her darkest moments. But not even Claire could pull her out of this. How could anyone? She was barely an adult, and now she was expected to run an empire. The storm outside intensified, and another bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the office once more.
Ariana stared at her reflection in the glass, seeing not the poised young woman her father had tried to mold, but a scared girl, utterly lost in a world too large for her to navigate alone. Her father's chair, leather and imposing, creaked as she shifted uncomfortably in it. Her gaze fell to the silver-framed photograph on the desk. It was a picture of her and her father, taken just after she graduated. His proud smile was frozen in time, but it was his eyes that haunted her.
He had always seen something in her, something she wasn't sure she saw in herself. "Ariana, you're the one who will lead this family," he had once told her. "It's not about being the smartest or the strongest. It's about being the one willing to bear the weight of it all. That's what makes a true leader." But she wasn't sure she was ready. How could she ever fill his shoes? The knock on the door startled her, and before she could answer, Claire walked in, rain-soaked and breathless. "Ariana!" she exclaimed, rushing over to hug her. "I came as soon as I heard. I'm so sorry." Ariana clung to her friend, feeling a wave of emotion she had been holding back for hours. Claire pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes. "How are you holding up?" "I'm not," Ariana admitted, her voice shaky. "I don't know what to do. The company… Dad's legacy… it's all on me now. And Elena , she's gone. She couldn't handle it." Claire frowned, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "Elena always ran from responsibility. But you, Ariana… you're strong. You always have been." "I don't feel strong." Ariana's voice cracked. "I feel like I'm drowning." Claire squeezed her hand. "Then take a breath. One thing at a time. You don't have to make every decision right now." Ariana nodded, but the weight in her chest didn't lift. "What if I fail, Claire? What if I ruin everything Dad built?" "You won't," Claire said firmly. "Because you won't be doing it alone. I'm here. You have the board, the lawyers, the staff—everyone will help you." "But it's not just the company," Ariana whispered. "It's… everything. The expectations. The pressure. The legacy. It's too much." Claire's expression softened. "Then let go of the idea that you have to be perfect. You're human, Ariana. Even your father made mistakes." Ariana closed her eyes, trying to let Claire's words sink in. But even as she sat there, the weight of the crown—the one her father had passed to her—pressed down on her shoulders, heavier than she had ever imagined. The rain continued to fall, its rhythm matching the beat of Ariana's heart, a relentless reminder that the world was still turning, even though hers had come to a standstill. And somewhere in the distance, beneath the storm, she could almost hear her father's voice: "It's your time now, Ariana. Wear the crown."