Suddenly, I Am Rich

By the time Gray finally arrived at the office, the sun was already at its peak in the sky. It was already late lunch. He and Daniel ate at a small restaurant before arriving.

Gray pushed open the glass doors. He looked composed on the outside, but on the inside, his head was chaotic. His thoughts still lingered on that massive plot of land he had seen an hour ago.

The moment he stepped into his own office, the sound of the keyboard greeted him. Mara was seated at her desk, her hair tied neatly back. There was a stack of organized papers in front of her. She looked up instantly as Gray walked in, one brow raising sharply.

"You're late today," she said matter-of-factly, her tone was but it was not scolding. Her eyes stayed on him for a moment before they narrowed just slightly.

"Why are you so late today? Where did you go? You have no meetings today in your schedule."

Gray gave a small chuckle as he set his things down on top of his table.

"Good morning to you, too, Mara."

Mara folded her arms, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Did something happen? Is there something wrong in your apartment?" Her forehead creased as worry laced her tone.

Gray smirked faintly, shaking his head.

"Neither. I just had… something important to look at this morning."

"Something important?" Mara tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face.

He leaned against the edge of his desk. His arms were crossed as his gaze wandered briefly toward the window. For a moment, he contemplated telling her the truth. That he had a massive piece of land under his name now, a possible foundation for their second branch.

He wasn't ready to share it, not yet. He wanted it to be a surprise. He will say it once they have updated whether Conrad will invest or not.

Gray shrugged casually and dismissed it.

"Let's just say I was checking out some opportunities."

Mara's eyes lingered on him. She couldn't figure out why there was calmness in his voice and why there was a slight spark in his eyes. She wasn't convinced at all on his answer, not completely.

Still, she sighed softly and returned to her seat.

"Well, you could've at least sent a message."

That made Gray chuckle again, this time more genuinely.

"I apologize. I'll remember that next time."

Mara shook her head, her lips tugging upward into the faintest smile.

"You better."

The mood lightened after that.

Gray finally sat down. He pulled the nearest folder toward him and thought he better start working already. However, when he tried doing so, he realized it would be impossible.

His mind was just entirely on the lot and the grocery store he was planning to build.

'This is so bad.' He could only shake his head.

- - -

The Everett Group.

The name alone carried weight across the country and even all around the world.

Its towering skyscrapers loomed over city skylines, monuments to ambition, luxury and power. They were built of glass and steel, polished to perfection. They reflected the sun so brilliantly that people often said the Everett buildings seemed to touch the heavens themselves.

Real estate, logistics, energy, luxury retail… everywhere you turned, there was a branch of Conrad Everett's influence in different names.

Entire districts bore signs of his influence.

From shops inside high-end malls that housed the country's finest brands, to the vast shipping fleets moving goods across oceans, to exclusive resorts tucked into the most sought-after coastal spots, the Everett Group was one of the largest privately owned conglomerates in the nation.

And at the center of this empire sat Conrad Everett.

Conrad's office was located at the very top of the Everett Tower, the tallest structure in Nine Seas, a district neighboring West Arcadia.

Nine Seas wasn't a place for leisure or living. It was a place where business happened. It was a district built for the rich, powerful, and ambitious. The district was filled with skyscrapers, buildings, and glass towers.

From the floor-to-ceiling windows of Conrad's office, one could see both West Arcadia and the East District stretching far into the horizon.

And as the CEO, Conrad's office occupied the entire top floor of the Everett tower. His office was a vast space with walls lined in walnut panels, shelves filled with curated and ancient books, and framed photographs of accomplishments dating back to a few decades ago.

And his desk? It was carved from imported oak wood. One that once sold could buy you a house.

"Hmmm… let's see…"

Conrad sat with a commanding presence. His hair was neatly combed back, his posture upright and still. With him in the office were his two assistants, who were working diligently outside his private chamber.

His assistant ensures that his every call, appointment, and document is handled before reaching his desk.

And on his office door were 2 armed bodyguards. No one could barged in uninvited at his office.

Inside the room, the atmosphere was quiet and serious. It was a place where mistakes weren't allowed.

After a few seconds, the sound of footsteps finally broke that silence.

The door of his office swung open, and there, Owen entered the office. He was clutching a leather folder in his hands. His expression was tight, and his movements were respectful. Every step he took was measured.

After all, he knew well the reputation of the man before him.

Conrad Everett was known in public as kind, approachable even, especially with family. But in the boardroom and in his office, he was different. His face was unreadable, his tone measured, and his standards were unyielding.

If you stumbled under that gaze, there was no second chance. You're just dead.

"Good afternoon, Sir," Owen greeted the man respectfully, his voice was low but clear. He stepped forward, offering the folder with both hands.

"The report you requested is finally here. It's the performance update for Gray Adam's grocery store over the past month."

Conrad looked up slowly. His dark eyes looked sharp as blades despite his years. They locked onto Owen. The faintest nod signaled for him to continue.

Owen placed the folder neatly onto Conrad's desk. "It's all here. Their sales, trends, customer traffic, and employee performance. I've reviewed the data personally before compiling it to your standard."

Conrad's expression didn't shift. His face was carved from stone, calm yet heavy with authority. He opened the folder with a steady hand, flipping through the crisp pages one by one.

His silence filled the room as he scanned each figure, each chart, absorbing the details with terrifying focus.

The longer he read, the tighter Owen's throat felt.

Owen just stood there in silence. He was already used to it, but it was uncomfortable. Because even though Conrad hadn't spoken a single word, the weight in the air was unmistakable.

Conrad Everett was a man who could laugh shamelessly in front of his granddaughter, tease Gray without restraint, and act almost carefree in private. But here, in this office, there was no trace of that side of him.

Here, he was the Everett Group. The man whose decisions shaped districts. The man no one dared cross.

Owen's palms grew slightly damp as he waited for the answer.

Finally, Conrad closed the folder gently, the soft snap of the leather echoing louder than expected. He placed his hands over it and leaned back in his chair. His eyes that was unreadable and piercing, lifted toward Owen.

"So this is how he's performed in just one month," Conrad said evenly, his voice carrying no emotion, yet it rang with authority.

Owen swallowed, bracing himself.

"Yes, Sir."

The report looked good in his eyes. With his years of experience, he could confidently say that it was one of the best business grow he had seen.

However, it wasn't for him to decide. Whether this report was good or bad, only Conrad could have an answer to that.

Conrad's fingers tapped once against the leather folder before he spoke again. His voice was smooth, yet it carried so much authority which made Owen's back straighten further.

"Tell me, Owen," Conrad began, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him, "our Belman Days… that luxury clothing brand we launched a few years ago. How many years did it take before it finally went off?"

Owen, though caught slightly off guard by the sudden question, quickly recovered.

"Three years, Sir. The first year was slow, the second was good, but by the third year, it began establishing its footing as a household name in the luxury fashion market."

Conrad gave the faintest hum, his eyes lowering back to the closed folder before him.

"Three years…" He repeated, almost as though testing the weight of the number.

Then, his gaze shifted upward again, sharper this time.

"How about our resort? The Coastal Nieves?"

Owen didn't hesitate this time.

"Two years before it reached profitability, Sir. It was in a good location with a lot of tourist."

Conrad leaned back further into his chair, resting an elbow on the armrest. His expression remained unreadable.

"And our first ever luxury brand?"

"That one…" Owen inhaled softly before recalling. "It took seven years, Sir. The brand struggled in its early stages, but with consistent reinvestment and your persistence, it eventually broke through and became one of the most recognized in its market."

For a moment, silence settled again. Conrad's eyes remained on him, unreadable and calculating.

Then, one of his brows lifted slightly, breaking that stillness.

"What do you think of this grocery store, Owen?"