The boardroom of Benouislager was a testament to power and precision. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, the skyline glittering like a jewel under the midday sun. The long, polished table was surrounded by some of the most influential figures in the luxury industry, their faces stern as they pored over spreadsheets and financial reports.  

At the head of the table sat Charles Harrington, his presence commanding the room. His sharp blue eyes scanned the documents in front of him, his expression unreadable. At sixty-two, he was a man who had built an empire from the ground up, and it showed in the way he carried himself—confident, calculated, and utterly in control.  

“The overhead charges for Q2 are up by 12%,” one of the executives said, breaking the silence. “If we don’t rein in spending, it’s going to eat into our margins.”  

Charles leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “And what do you propose we do about it?”  

The executive hesitated, glancing at the others around the table. “We could streamline operations, cut back on non-essential expenses”  

“No,” Charles interrupted, his voice firm. “We don’t cut corners. Not when it comes to quality. Our brands are built on exclusivity and excellence. If we start cutting back, we lose our edge.”  

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Charles had built Benouislager into a global powerhouse, a conglomerate that owned some of the most prestigious luxury brands in the world. He wasn’t about to let a few percentage points on a spreadsheet undermine everything he’d worked for.  

“What about the new investment opportunities in Asia?” another executive asked, changing the subject. “The market is growing, and we’ve already seen strong demand for our products.”  

Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Asia is a priority. But we need to be strategic. I want a detailed proposal on my desk by the end of the week.”  

The meeting continued, the discussion shifting to marketing strategies, product launches, and expansion plans. Charles listened intently, his sharp mind analysing every detail, every opportunity. But despite the focus of the room, his thoughts kept drifting to Ethan.  

His son had started his internship today. Charles hadn’t said much about it, he wasn’t the type to gush or offer unnecessary praise, but he was proud. Ethan had chosen to forge his own path, to prove himself without relying on the family name. It was a bold move, and Charles respected that.  

But it also worried him.  

The world of business was ruthless, and Charles knew better than anyone how quickly fortunes could change. He’d seen competitors rise and fall, empires crumble overnight. And while he admired Ethan’s determination, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his son was walking into a minefield.  

The sound of the boardroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts. His head of security, Marcus, stepped inside, his expression grim.  

“Mr. Harrington,” Marcus said, his voice low. “A word?”  

Charles nodded, standing up. “Excuse me for a moment.”  

The executives murmured their acknowledgment as Charles followed Marcus out of the room and into the hallway. Marcus was a former Marine, his broad shoulders and no-nonsense demeanour making him an imposing figure. But there was something in his eyes now—a flicker of unease that set Charles on edge.  

“What is it?” Charles asked, his tone sharp.  

Marcus glanced around to make sure they were alone before speaking. “We’ve received reports of unusual activity around the mansion. Security cameras picked up a vehicle circling the property late last night. It didn’t stop, but it was there long enough to raise concerns.”  

Charles frowned. “Could it have been a coincidence? Someone lost, maybe?”  

“Possibly,” Marcus said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “But there’s more. One of our branches in Europe reported a breach in their system last week. They thought it was a minor issue, but now I’m not so sure. There’s a pattern here, sir. I think we might be dealing with a threat—either to the business or to your family.”  

Charles’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. He’d spent decades building his empire, navigating countless challenges and threats. But this felt different. This felt personal.  

“What do you recommend?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.  

“Increased security at the mansion,” Marcus said. “And I’d like to conduct a full review of our systems across all branches. If there’s a threat, we need to find it before it finds us.”  

Charles nodded, his expression grim. “Do it. And keep me updated.”  

“Yes, sir,” Marcus said, before turning and walking away.  

Charles stood there for a moment, his mind racing. He thought of Ethan, of the internship, of the life he’d worked so hard to build. He couldn’t let anything—or anyone—threaten that.  

But as he walked back into the boardroom, a sense of unease settled over him. The world of luxury was a dangerous game, and Charles had always been a master player. But this time, the stakes felt higher than ever. 

As Charles took his seat at the head of the table, the room fell silent, all eyes turning to him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his sharp mind already working through the next steps.  

“Morgan,” he said, addressing the head of mergers and acquisitions. “Reach out to Mr. Nguyen. I want to discuss merging our branches in Bangkok.”  

Morgan blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Mr. Nguyen? Of Nguyen Holdings?”  

“Yes,” Charles said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Our operations in Bangkok overlap significantly with his. By merging, we can maximise profits and cut costs. It’s a win-win.”  

The room erupted into murmurs, the executives exchanging glances. Charles ignored them, his focus unwavering.  

“But sir,” Morgan said cautiously, “Nguyen Holdings has been a competitor for years. Do you really think they’ll be open to a merger?”  

Charles leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “They will if they see the potential. And if they don’t, we’ll make them see it. This isn’t just about cutting costs—it’s about dominating the market. And I intend to do just that.”  

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Charles had built his empire by thinking ten steps ahead, by seeing opportunities where others saw obstacles. And this was no different.  

“Get it done,” he said, his tone final.  

Morgan nodded, jotting down notes. “Yes, sir. I’ll reach out to him immediately.”  

Charles turned to his assistant, a young woman with sharp features and an air of efficiency. “Emily, set up a meeting with Mr. Nguyen for Friday. I want to discuss the merger proposal in person.”  

Emily nodded, typing quickly on her tablet. “Consider it done, Mr. Harrington.”  

Charles leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but his mind still racing. The threat Marcus had mentioned lingered in the back of his thoughts, a shadow he couldn’t shake. But for now, he had a business to run.  

And he wasn’t about to let anything or anyone stand in his way.  

As the meeting adjourned, Morgan stepped out into the hallway, pulling out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Mia’s name and pressed call.  

She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Dad.”  

“Mia,” he said, his tone softening. “How was your first day at the internship?”  

There was a pause on the other end, and he could almost hear her hesitation. “It was… fine. But I’m thinking of leaving.”  

Morgan frowned. “Leaving? Why? I thought this was a great opportunity for you.”  

“It is,” Mia said, her voice tinged with frustration. “But Khoa needs my help with the launch of the new Bangkok firm. I can’t just abandon him.”  

Morgan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Mia, you can’t keep putting your life on hold for Khoa. He’s capable of handling this on his own.”  

“I know,” she said quietly. “But he’s my best friend, Dad. I can’t just walk away.”  

Morgan hesitated, his mind racing. He knew how close Mia and Khoa were, but he also knew how much this internship could mean for her future.  

“Just think about it, okay?” he said finally. “Don’t make any rash decisions.”  

“I won’t,” Mia promised. “I’ll call you later, okay?”  

“Okay,” Morgan said, his voice gentle. “Take care, sweetheart.”