Right now Max felt like he had placed himself in a very tough situation. He had deliberately left the dining room, fully aware that every member of the Stern family was still gathered around the long celebratory table. He hadn't been gone long enough to draw suspicion, so he doubted anyone would come looking for him immediately. In his mind, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to slip away and search for answers on his own.
But now, standing inside Dennis Stern's private office, the reality of the risk pressed down on him like a weight.
If one of the staff members sees me in here, that's already a problem, Max thought, his eyes darting toward the door and then to the tall windows. It's obvious I'd be up to no good if I'm caught snooping around Dennis's office. And if it isn't staff, if it's one of the heirs? That would be even worse. That could end everything.
The question that clawed at him was simple: should he try to hide, or should he face it head-on?
He remembered the countless films he'd watched where characters tried hiding under desks or behind curtains, only to be discovered in humiliating fashion. He could picture himself crouched in the shadows, heart hammering, only for the inevitable hand to yank him into the light. No, that would only make things worse. The other option, the windows, would mean leaping out from the fourth floor into the garden below. He wasn't about to risk breaking his neck in the middle of Dennis's territory.
Max took a deep breath. He straightened his back and decided he would stand his ground, meet whoever entered face to face, and try to talk his way out of it.
The door clicked open.
And the moment Max saw who it was, his stomach dropped. It was, without exaggeration, the worst person who could possibly walk in.
The old man closed the heavy door behind him with deliberate care, and then he cleared his throat. His presence filled the room more than the towering shelves or the heavy oak desk ever could.
"Max…" Dennis Stern's voice rumbled with calm authority. "I had an inkling, when you asked to leave for the bathroom in the middle of the meal, that something else was going on. It would be in your best interest to tell me the truth."
Dennis Stern. The patriarch of the Stern empire. The man who owned this entire manor and controlled more wealth than most countries. And Max was standing here, in his private sanctum, caught red-handed.
Damn it. Damn it! Max cursed inwardly, fighting to keep his face composed. I never expected him to be the one. Sure, it's his office, but I didn't think he'd leave the table. He's sharper than I gave him credit for. His intuition is too good, he guessed where I'd go before I even made it here. I thought he would still see me as a child, too naive to play the game. But clearly, he's a man who doesn't underestimate anyone. He'll need a convincing answer, something strong enough to satisfy him. If not, everything could spiral out of control.
Max's mind raced. He knew certain excuses would only dig his grave deeper. Saying he had come here by accident was laughable; Dennis would never buy it. Claiming he simply wanted to know what it felt like to sit in the office that might one day be his would be dangerous, it could paint him as greedy, overreaching, and too ambitious. If he appeared too hungry for power, Dennis might decide he was no different from the others, just another heir clawing for the throne.
No, he needed something else. Something that sounded cautious, something that played into Dennis's role as the patriarch, the one who supposedly guided them all.
"I was trying to protect myself," Max said at last, steadying his voice. He gave a respectful bow of his head. "I apologize for entering without your permission, but I thought that if I came to you directly and asked questions, it might go against the rules."
"The rules?" Dennis repeated, one bushy eyebrow arching upward. He stepped forward, his cane tapping softly against the polished floor, and his gaze flicked to the desk. He saw immediately which file Max had opened.
Max swallowed hard but continued, forcing himself to look sincere.
"I'm sure you've noticed, Grandfather… lately, many people around me have lost their lives. It started with my mother and father. Then my school friends. And now, others. When I think about it, the only common thread between all of them… is me. The fact that I'm a Stern. So I imagined it had to do with the contest."
Dennis said nothing, his expression unreadable, which made Max push forward, filling the silence with his reasoning.
"I know it isn't right to suspect my own family," Max admitted, lowering his eyes. "But I thought it was better to be cautious. If I had asked you directly for information, or for protection, and it truly was another heir behind it all, then you wouldn't tell me because of the contest. Even if you wanted to, your hands would be tied. But if I obtained the information myself, through my own actions, then no one could say anything. I thought it would be the safer path."
The silence that followed was suffocating. For a moment, Max feared he had miscalculated. Maybe he should have gone with the sentimental angle, saying he wanted to stand in the office to feel what it might be like to one day be at the top.
But he had chosen to tug on Dennis's sense of pragmatism. He had chosen to highlight the dangers he'd faced, the way he had been forced to survive. He hoped Dennis would see not just ambition, but necessity.
At last, Dennis spoke. His voice was calm, measured.
"I see. Now that you are of age, there is next to nothing to shield you. You'll have to protect yourself, and you will have to choose your own path." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as though weighing Max's every twitch. Then his lips curved into the faintest smile. "Well… today is a day of celebration. So let us say, as a gift, that I did not see you in here. Consider it forgotten. It would be best if you head back to the dining hall as soon as possible."
Max exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. He knew when a reprieve had been granted, and this was his cue to leave. He gave a respectful bow and began walking toward the door. But as he passed Dennis, the old man's voice stopped him cold.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Dennis asked softly.
Max froze for half a second before turning his head slightly. His answer was calm, but his eyes betrayed the fire burning behind them.
"Not quite," Max said. "But I may have found a clue… a clue to the entire situation."