A sprawling, state-of-the-art biotech facility stood on the border between Notting Hill and Mancur City.
Technically, the building belonged to Notting Hill’s county, but it sat close enough to both urban centers that it was almost equidistant from each. The facility was vast , a gleaming monument of steel, glass, and ambition, nestled within a carefully landscaped stretch of green hills and forest paths. A narrow river ran along its side, shimmering in the daylight.
It wasn’t just a workplace; it was a dream environment for those lucky enough to be part of it. The facility had multiple relaxation lounges, meditation pods, and cafeterias serving gourmet meals. Outside, there was even a park-like space designed to encourage creativity during breaks. The parking lot stretched across several acres, always half-full , a testament to how many brilliant minds worked there.
The wages were among the highest in the industry. The facility attracted top researchers, geneticists, and bioengineers , each one chasing the same goal: to break new ground and reshape human biology as the world knew it.
The company’s most ambitious project?
A bio-hard drive , an organic storage unit capable of recording, retaining, and replicating information at a molecular level.
The concept was groundbreaking: a living hard drive, grown rather than built, able to hold inconceivable amounts of data, potentially forever. More astonishingly, the data could be encoded and linked to an individual’s DNA, meaning only that person could access it. Secure. Eternal. Alive.
It sounded like science fiction, but this was just one of the many audacious projects underway at the facility.
And the woman funding it all was none other than Bobo Stern.
Bobo sat alone in her glass-walled office overlooking the research floor below. The soft hum of machinery mixed with the murmur of voices as scientists moved between labs, monitoring experiments and calibrating equipment.
She was an image of refined intellect , hair neatly tied up, a pair of round glasses framing her sharp, thoughtful eyes. She had been one of the top graduates of her class at one of the world’s leading universities. The Stern family, ever proud and watchful, had expected great things from her.
And she had delivered , at least at first.
Combining her academic brilliance with her business sense, Bobo had launched a biotech firm focused on futuristic bio-engineering. She had studied the world’s largest medical and genetic companies, identified gaps, and built her enterprise to fill them.
But the problem was one all innovators faced , research was expensive. Years of investment could pass with no tangible results. No matter how brilliant an idea was, progress demanded time, manpower, and above all, money.
And Bobo had already poured $400 million of her own wealth into the company , building the facility, recruiting top scientists, and maintaining day-to-day operations.
Now, sitting in front of her computer screen, she pressed her lips together and sighed.
"It was a risk I decided to take," she murmured to herself. "If the company succeeds, it could make me the leading heir to the Stern family fortune."
Her voice was steady but low, almost as if she were trying to convince herself.
"There’s also the greater purpose," she continued. "If I can make something that advances human progress , maybe even Grandfather will see that. Maybe he’ll see that my work is the future."
But even as she said it, a heavy sense of doubt gnawed at her.
She still had $600 million left in personal reserves. A large amount by any standard , but not when weighed against the constant drain of research funding.
And there was the dreaded thought: What if nothing came of it?
If her experiments failed... if the company collapsed... all her wealth, all her pride, and all her dreams would evaporate.
Her mother, Karen Stern, wouldn’t be of any help. Karen’s shopping mall empire was bleeding money by the year. Worse, she had recently tried to launch her own designer fashion brand , a decision that had already turned into another financial sinkhole.
So, Bobo couldn’t count on family support.
Six hundred million could sustain her for life if she pulled out now. She could live comfortably, maybe even lavishly, without the stress and uncertainty. But when she looked around her , at the facility, at the hundreds of workers whose livelihoods depended on her , she felt something she had never expected to feel before.
Responsibility.
Every person here had a family. Every paycheck she signed meant another home fed, another dream supported. They looked up to her not just as their boss, but as someone who believed in their vision.
And she did.
But if she ran out of funding before producing a viable product, they’d all lose their jobs. The facility would be shut down. Years of work, erased overnight.
And what then? What would she be?
That was why she was now searching , desperately , for outside investors.
It wasn’t easy. The kind of person willing to pour tens or hundreds of millions into a biotech firm with no guaranteed return was rare.
Investing in biotech was like setting your money on fire and praying something valuable emerged from the ashes.
Still, she kept reaching out.
And recently, she had pinned her hopes on one potential partner , a mysterious but fast-growing venture company known as the Billion Bloodline Group.
She had heard the name whispered in finance circles , a new but rapidly expanding entity with money to burn and aggressive expansion strategies.
If she could land a deal with them, her company might survive long enough to achieve a breakthrough.
What she hadn’t expected, though, was who stood behind it.
When the email first came through from their representative, she had felt cautious optimism. But then the investor’s name appeared in the proposal draft: Max Stern.
Her expression had gone blank.
"I can’t believe this," she muttered under her breath. "Of all people... him?"
Her younger brother, Chad, had told her about Max’s supposed downfall , that he was the black sheep of the Stern family, cut off from their fortune.
Surely, this couldn’t be the same Max Stern?
’There’s no way he has this kind of influence,’ she thought, pressing her fingers to her temple. ’He must just be a figurehead, or maybe someone using the name for reputation.’
Still, she couldn’t deny the name carried weight , and the offer was real.
Even if it wasn’t him, she needed this deal.
Slumping forward on her desk, Bobo closed her eyes, the glow of the computer screen reflecting off her glasses.
’I just wanted one chance... just one opportunity to make this work. None of the others take me seriously. They see me as the "science project." If only something could come from this.’
Her phone pinged softly on the desk.
She blinked, then reached for it.
A single message appeared on the screen:
[We are open to making a deal.]
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was from the Billion Bloodline Group.
"Finally..." she whispered, sitting up straight.
Her pulse quickened as she typed her response, barely able to contain her relief.
[Let’s meet and discuss the details in person.]
She hesitated for only a second before sending it.
If she had known who truly ran the Billion Bloodline Group , the real Max Stern behind the name , she might have thought twice.
But right now, all she saw was a lifeline.
And she was ready to grab it.