All of the heirs gradually gathered around the long dining table. As was tradition, there was one chair set apart from the rest. It was slightly larger, slightly more ornate, upholstered with a deep red backrest. This was the chair reserved for Dennis Stern, the patriarch, placed squarely at the head of the table so that his presence anchored the entire hall.
There were no assigned seats for the heirs, not in any formal sense, but patterns had developed over the years. Typically, the younger generation would sit on one side of the table while the older heirs positioned themselves opposite. The arrangement was more a matter of comfort than ceremony, and yet it revealed the invisible lines that divided the family.
Still, the actual seats changed from gathering to gathering depending on alliances, grudges, and whispered schemes. That was why, once again, everyone noticed Chad's actions with surprise.
Max had been invited to sit closest to Dennis, today was meant to celebrate his graduation, after all, and without hesitation, Chad had followed him and taken the chair at his side.
It wasn't that the two of them had never sat together before. They had, on rare occasions. But whenever they did, it usually ended with Chad mocking or ordering Max about. That was what made today so strange. With their grandfather seated only a few steps away, few believed Chad would cause a scene. Yet his recent change of behavior, sticking up for Max, then willingly sitting beside him, was enough to make every heir in the room glance at one another and quietly wonder.
Chad stuck up for Max and now sits with him? Has something happened between them?
Even Dennis, who rarely betrayed his thoughts, allowed himself the faintest crease of curiosity at the corner of his brow.
Chad siding with Max? Interesting… With Chad stripped of his wealth, I assumed he would inevitably latch onto Max, cling to him and leech from him in order to survive. But judging by the look of things, that might not be the case. Perhaps there's something more to it.
No one else in the room knew of Chad's financial ruin. Dennis alone understood the depth of his grandson's situation, which gave him a unique vantage point as he studied the seating arrangement.
Next to Chad was his half-sister Bobo, her posture upright, every movement rehearsed with elegance. Beside her sat Cici, calm and graceful as ever, and finally at the end of the line was Donto, whose presence alone seemed to put everyone on edge. The room relaxed just slightly when they realized Donto was seated farthest from Max.
The servants began moving about briskly, setting down the first course with polished precision. Silver domes lifted, releasing faint aromas of herbs and butter, and crystal glasses chimed as they were filled. Before anyone lifted a fork, Dennis slowly raised his own glass.
"This is a milestone," Dennis announced, his voice carrying easily across the wide room. His gaze rested on Max. "Not only for Max, but for me as well. Today, my youngest family member becomes an adult, and will be stepping fully into the world of adulthood. I wish you a great future. Onwards and upwards, Max. May you accomplish great things."
The heirs echoed the toast, glasses raised high, though some lifted theirs with more enthusiasm than others. The clink of crystal rang out before the room shifted into the quiet murmur of eating.
Once the plates were cleared, the conversations began to stir, light at first. Marsha was the first to speak, her tone measured, as though weighing every word.
"Congratulations, Max, on graduating," she said. "Although, I hope you realize that while Father has staged quite the display for you, graduation itself is expected of most students. It is not an accomplishment in itself, but a step. What you do next, that will be the true test. Do you have any plans? Any sense of where you wish to go?"
Max kept his expression carefully composed. His true plans, to expand the Bloodline Group into a syndicate powerful enough to rival the White Tigers, and eventually dismantle the empire they had built, were not something he could announce here. Not when every smile across the table concealed sharpened teeth.
Instead, he offered the safest answer. "For now," he said lightly, "I think I'll take a little break and enjoy my time. After that, maybe I'll start something myself, or perhaps go to university. I haven't really thought about it much."
The conversation shifted around him as the other heirs spoke. Dennis encouraged them to share updates on their businesses, though he already knew the truth from the detailed reports on his desk. Still, what he found intriguing was not the numbers, but the performance. How much face each heir tried to maintain in front of the others, how much exaggeration painted their successes brighter than they were.
Some boasted extravagantly. Others deflected with modest smiles. Randy, however, remained largely silent, speaking only when pressed, which in itself told Dennis all he needed. The quietest often hid the largest fortunes, and Randy's wealth had grown to eclipse nearly everyone else at the table.
Eventually, Bobo took the floor, her voice carrying a polished confidence.
"As you all know," she began, "I've been heavily investing in a personal biotech project. We're using machine learning to design and optimize new proteins for therapeutic use, antibodies, peptides, enzymes, particularly in oncology, infectious disease, and immunology. If we manage a breakthrough, it could be worth billions."
There was an appreciative murmur around the table. She raised a hand delicately before continuing. "But of course, it would be foolish to put all of our eggs in one basket. That's why I've also been exploring other biotech companies, and considering investments through venture firms to strengthen our portfolio."
Dave leaned forward, a frown pulling at his lips. "You should be careful with that," he warned. "Depending on who invests, they can influence the direction of your work. Accepting their money means accepting their oversight. Reports, ownership stakes… Don't just take any offer that comes your way."
The others nodded. Everyone knew biotech was one of the most volatile industries. One in a hundred companies survived long enough to deliver a successful product, and the rest burned through obscene amounts of capital before collapsing.
Bobo inclined her head, conceding the point. "Which is why I've been studying carefully. I've looked into the company that invested in the Curts family. From what I've seen, they've done a remarkable job. They invested, then stepped back, allowing the Curts to work freely. Now, the results speak for themselves."
Karen, swirling her wine lazily, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Right, I think I heard about them. What was the VC company called again?" Her lips curved slowly, like she was savoring the words. "Ah, yes. The Billion Bloodline Group."
The name hit the air like a spark thrown into dry tinder.
And that was when Chad, sitting beside Max, choked on his drink. He sputtered, then sprayed the liquid across the table in a clumsy burst. Drops of champagne scattered across the polished wood, spattering plates and pooling between utensils.
Every head at the table turned to him at once.