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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Call to New York

The Decision

Jacob stood in his room, holding the white card that his Uncle Alfred had given him just the day before. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of an entire future: "Jacob, the time has come. Call me when you're ready."

He hadn't expected this. His father's sudden death had turned his world upside down, and now his uncle, someone he barely knew, was offering him a new life in New York. Jacob looked at his mother, who was sitting silently at the kitchen table, her eyes swollen with tears. The grief was still fresh, raw.

Taking a deep breath, Jacob dialed the number on the card. The phone rang for a few moments before a calm, steady voice answered.

"Jacob," Uncle Alfred's voice said. "Are you ready for New York?"

Jacob paused for a moment, then looked at his mother, who was still very much in grief, but he felt he could wait no longer. "Yes, Uncle Alfred," he finally said. "Mom is okay with it. I'm ready to go."

"Good," Alfred replied. "We'll be there tomorrow at 8 a.m. Pack your things."

Jacob hung up the phone and looked at his mother. She wiped her tears and gave him a faint smile, hugging him. "We'll get through this, Jacob," she whispered.

The Farewell

The next morning, Jacob woke up early. The house was quiet as he helped his mother pack the last of their things. She was trying her best to keep it together, but Jacob could see the deep sadness in her eyes.

"Jacob," she said quietly as she handed him a small suitcase. "When you get to New York... call me, okay? Let me know you're safe."

Jacob nodded, his throat tightening. "I will, Mom. I promise."

As the horn honked from outside, signaling Uncle Alfred's arrival, Jacob gave his mother one last hug. Then, with a final glance at the house that had been his home for so many years, he climbed into his uncle's car, and they set off toward New York.

The journey felt long, like Jacob was traveling on a road that led nowhere. He kept dozing off and waking up, his mind in a haze. But when he opened his eyes again, the scenery had changed. They had arrived in the heart of the city.

Arrival at Tisch Hospital

Jacob rubbed his eyes as they parked in front of Tisch Hospital, one of the largest and most renowned medical centers in New York. The building was massive, its glass windows reflecting the busy streets below.

"We're here," Uncle Alfred said, gently waking him up.

Jacob took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. They walked through the grand lobby and down several long, sterile hallways. Jacob's heart raced as the tension in the air grew thicker.

They finally arrived at a VIP ward, which was heavily guarded by security. Inside, lying on the bed, was his grandfather, King Stuart Ivan. He looked frail, hooked up to oxygen, but his piercing eyes were still sharp and full of authority.

Uncle Alfred gently nudged Jacob toward the bed. "Your grandfather wants to see you."

Meeting Grandfather Ivan

Jacob slowly approached the bed. As he got closer, Ivan turned his head with great difficulty, his gaze locking on Jacob. With trembling hands, he motioned for Jacob to come closer.

"Jacob," Ivan said, his voice weak but filled with emotion. "You've grown so much. You are now the last of the Stuart bloodline."

Jacob stood still for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Ivan took a deep breath and looked toward the lawyer standing by the door.

"Let him speak," Ivan whispered.

The lawyer stepped forward, holding a thick folder in his hands. "Your Majesty," the lawyer said, bowing slightly. "I have the final will of King Stuart Ivan."

Jacob listened intently as the lawyer read out the contents of the will: "The throne of the Stuart family, their bank balance of 3,000 million USD, 1,000 kilograms of gold stored in Swiss banks, and properties worth approximately 1,000 million USD will all be passed on to Jacob upon his eighteenth birthday. The Stuart Corporation will also be under his control."

Jacob's eyes widened in disbelief. "But… why me? Why now?"

Ivan smiled faintly, his eyes softening. "It's our family tradition, Jacob. You are the last of our line, and you must carry on the legacy. But there are conditions. You must complete your education at the Royal Institute and graduate, without using the Stuart name. That is the way it has always been."

Jacob listened in silence, overwhelmed. "But I'm just a kid! How can I handle all this?"

Ivan's hand reached out weakly. "You'll learn, Jacob. You're stronger than you think."

The Will and the Weight of Legacy

The lawyer handed Jacob the will, and Jacob, still in a daze, signed it. His name was now bound to a future he hadn't asked for. The lawyer collected the papers, bowed, and left the room.

Ivan, looking even weaker, gave Jacob a tired smile. "Go home now, child. You've done enough for today. Rest."

Uncle Alfred placed a hand on Jacob's back and gently led him out of the room. As they left the hospital, Jacob's mind was racing. The future that lay ahead of him seemed distant, foreign. He wasn't ready for it, not by a long shot. But now, there was no turning back.