Julian slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing into two sharp, lethal slits as he looked at his younger brother, Charles, who was already visibly shaking. Charles was weak, hiding a severe gambling addiction and drowning in private debts.
“Twelve months,” Julian murmured, a slow, terrifying smile creeping back onto his face. “Twelve months in the dark with you parasites.”
“You think you can outlast me, Julian?” Beatrice countered, her voice dropping into a dangerous, razor-thin whisper as she stared back at him. “You’re a control freak who needs a staff of twenty to manage your ego. By month three, I’ll have you screaming at the walls.”
“We’ll see about that, dear sister,” Victoria smirked, already pulling out her phone, her mind plotting how to turn the daily psychological torture of her siblings into a highly profitable, weaponized digital nightmare to ruin their reputations from the inside.
Mr. Sterling quietly packed his documents back into his leather briefcase, stepping toward the exit of the grand great room. He looked back at the four Blackwood heirs, who were now staring at one another across the dimly lit room like starving wolves trapped in a golden cage.
“The twelve-month clock begins tonight at midnight, gentlemen,” Mr. Sterling said, his voice carrying a quiet, tragic finality. “The staff has been dismissed. The grocery deliveries are automated. The heavy iron gates at the edge of the driveway have just locked. I wish you all the very best of luck.”
The heavy oak front doors clicked shut, the sound echoing through the massive, empty mansion like the closing of a tomb.
Outside, the Seattle storm roared, a lightning flash illuminating the four vipers sitting in the dark, realizing the game had finally begun. The air inside the house was freezing, but as they locked eyes, preparing for a year of absolute, psychological slaughter, the countdown to ten billion dollars finally, beautifully, began to tick.
