As he went downstairs to join his father, Pooh knew that the carefree and discreet boy he had tried to remain was slowly fading, replaced by the ruthless heir his father wanted him to become. Yet a part of him still hoped to find Pavel again, one day, one way or another—and he vowed to protect this shred of humanity, no matter how heavy the legacy weighed on him. 

 Arriving at the company, Pooh and his father entered the large meeting room where the executive committee was waiting for them. The atmosphere was tense, almost hostile. Some members of the committee exchanged glances, showing their skepticism towards Pooh's youth. They murmured comments, some smirks and contemptuous glances betraying their thoughts: how could a boy so young be worthy of this position? They were clearly trying to destabilize him, testing his limits, as if to see if he really deserved his place. 

Pooh's father remained silent, his eyes closed, as if he was knowingly giving them time to reveal themselves. He knew that this moment would be crucial, a first test for his son. And he was confident in one thing: the heritage of their family flowed in Pooh's veins, and he had never tolerated disrespect. 

 As the whispers and condescending smiles multiplied, Pooh slowly placed his hands on the table and straightened up. He looked at each person in the room, a cold, piercing look in his eyes, and then in a firm, authoritative voice that echoed through the room and silenced every whisper, he said, 

"I think we've wasted enough time on unnecessary innuendo. If my young age is a problem for you, then consider this a demonstration." His voice, icy and controlled, silenced every whisper, every smile, like a whiplash through the room.

The committee members, taken aback by his confidence, exchanged puzzled glances. This boy they thought he was intimidating wasn’t just here to listen; he was here to take his place, and he was doing so with the authority of a legitimate heir, worthy of the name he bore. 

Pooh continued, implacable: “What I will not tolerate is disrespect. Let me be clear: I am here because I am the successor, and nothing and no one will make me doubt that. If you have any objections, express them now, or else demonstrate the professionalism expected of this level of responsibility.” 

The silence was total, heavy with tension. The gazes that had previously scrutinized him with defiance had suddenly softened, as if they realized that this heir, young as he was, was far more formidable than they had imagined. Pooh’s father finally opened his eyes, a slight smile of approval on his lips, satisfied that his son had proven himself worthy of his position. 

The meeting continued in a more respectful tone, and each of the committee members gradually realized that they had underestimated Pooh. As the files and topics were discussed, Pooh showed impressive mastery. His remarks were sharp, his analyses precise, and he did not hesitate to cut with an authority that seemed to belong to someone well beyond his years. Each decision he made or suggestion he made testified to the strength and strategic intelligence expected of the heir to such an influential family. Those who had tried to destabilize him at the beginning of the meeting found themselves listening to him attentively, realizing that they were facing a formidable future leader.