James Reed remained still, his gaze riveted on the lifeless body of his father, Richard Reed. The elder man, the unstoppable industrial force, fell mute and bloodless, a massive coronary heart attack taking his life without warning. James had always viewed his father as unbreakable, capable of bending the universe to his will. But now, the harsh reality of mortality faced him in the face.
The room seemed to close in on him, with the weight of the situation pushing down on his chest. He was unable to circulate. His limbs felt heavy, and his mind began to race with emotions, shock, Grief, and Anger, Confusion. They all swirled within him, competing for control, leaving him with nothing but a space. How could this be real? Just hours before, his father was awake and yelling commands over his smartphone, plotting Reed Industries' next massive circulation. He is now long gone.
The truth hit James like a blow in the chest: his father had died. He evolved into more than just a discerner; he became the CEO of Reed Industries and the architect of an empire. And now James stood on the verge of an international that had been permanently transformed. He had always anticipated the day when he would take over the corporation. But not like this. This is no longer happening so swiftly.
His gaze stayed fixed on his father's face, the features that had once been so powerful, now pallid and hollow. A sense of dread coiled in his stomach. How can he effectively fill their shoes? He had worked tirelessly to meet his father's impossibly high standards, demonstrating that he deserved the Reed name. Without warning, Reed Industries' load had fallen squarely on his shoulders.
His head began to spin, and the partitions around him closed in as he battled to catch his breath. Faces and sounds mingled in his eyes, creating an unusual haze. He took a step back, his body quivering, attempting to shake off the crushing weight of depression. However, before he could fall, a hand grasped his shoulder and anchored him.
"James, I am so sorry," a soft, familiar voice said into his ear.
He cocked his head slightly, trying to listen, and looked at his father's lifetime helper, Mrs. Jenkins. Her eyes, which were generally keen during performances, were softened with disappointment. "Your father has become an excellent man. Unfortunately, he will be neglected.
James nodded, but the phrases felt hollow in his chest. "Thanks," he managed to mumble, his voice barely above a whisper. Given that the sector had recently shifted off its axis, this exchange of pleasantries felt out of place.
Even amid the depths of pain, a new emotion began to grow within him determination. He couldn't let his father's heritage fall. He had to stand up and prove that he could keep Reed Industries thriving even without the man who had built it from the ground up. He might no longer allow his father's country to fall apart while he remained in control.
Straightening his backbone, he began to leave the room, anxious to resume his life. However, as he was directed towards the door, his coronary heart tightened. Mr. Smith, his father's lawyer, waited at the doorway, visibly upset.
"James," Mr. Smith said, breaking the silence, "we need to talk." There is something about your father's will that you must understand.
James had a wave of anxiety. Is there a will? Of course, his father could have had one. But what secrets might it hold? His bowel twisted as he followed Mr. Smith out of the office, and the quiet between them became increasingly uncomfortable with each passing second. Something wasn't right. He should sense it.
"what's it?" James inquired, his voice strained as they went down the long corridor. "What did my father do?"
Mr. Smith came to a halt, his gaze darting uncomfortably over the space before finally falling on James. "Your father's will comes with a circumstance," he said, barely above a whisper. "A situation on the way to change everything."
James' heart rate rose. What condition? His thoughts raced with a thousand possibilities, each more frightening than the previous. He paused in his steps and confronted the attorney right away. "What situation?" he asked, his voice rougher now.
Mr. Smith gulped hard and took a long breath before proceeding. "You should marry Sophia Patel within six months of your father's death," he said, like a sledgehammer crashing into the silence. "or you chance forfeiting your inheritance."
James quickly sucked the air out of his lungs. Marry? His father had never addressed Sophia in this context, let alone advised such a drastic measure. Why now? Why her?
"What?" James mumbled, attempting to make sense of it all. "Why could he do this?"
Before Mr. Smith could react, a voice echoed from the darkness, attracting their attention to the person emerging from the poorly illuminated corner of the corridor.
"Ah, James," the voice said quietly and sarcastically. "I see you're simply as amazed as I used to be."
James' heart lurched, and his muscles tensed with wrath. He recognized that voice all too well.
"Marcus," he hissed, venom coloring his words as his gaze tightened. Marcus Blackwood, his father's most daring rival and a man James had always disliked, appeared before him.
Marcus sneered, chilly and arrogant, his eyes sparkling with terrible pride. "I'm here to make certain you honor your father's desires," he continued, his tone caustic. "And to make certain Reed Industries finally ends up within the right fingers."
The words sent a shudder through James. Marcus, what have you been playing at? What did he understand about this unusual situation, and why did he sound so confident?
James felt a knot of dread rise in his stomach. He couldn't see what else was going on just now. Marcus had a clear advantage in whichever situation arose.
As Marcus expanded and stormed away, the enormity of the situation struck James all at once. It wasn't as simple as his father's legacy anymore. It became all about managing strength. Marcus had just dropped the gauntlet.
His breath came to a halt in his throat as terror and rage coursed through his veins. His mind raced, trying to absorb everything, but the weight of it all proved too much. Too brief. His eyesight faded as the hallway spun around him. His legs crumbled beneath him, and while he tried to steady himself, blackness crept in and consumed him entirely.