Page 7 of Power

The sisters appeared to have inherited not just their father’sname but also his exceptional intelligence and sharp wit. I had met the other two sisters in passing before, and they stood out in my memory as articulate and confident individuals.

I expected meeting Calista would be similar. However, I couldn’t help but wonder if her experiences made her unique.

Her abduction had ignited a storm of news across the syndicates, like a flash fire consuming everything in its path. When she was finally rescued, the whispers about her ordeal were so dark and grim that they lingered in my mind, casting a shadow over my thoughts.

The idea of any woman enduring a harrowing experience like the one Calista had faced ignited an intense fire. This seething fury seared through my veins like a relentless stream.

Yet, reflecting on her ordeal, I couldn’t help but think that Calista might now have a profound depth to her character, a distinctiveness that her sisters might lack. All three sisters, alongside their devoted caretaker, Vik, had displayed remarkable strength and resilience. I admired their capacity to rise from the ashes and reclaim what was rightfully theirs with an impressive display of determination.

If anyone could understand the insatiable thirst for vengeance, it was undoubtedly me. I gazed into the mirror, and the reflection staring back was not my own but that of my father. With each passing year, my features seemed to mirror his more and more.

I wondered what he might have felt about this potential alliance, this intertwining of lives and destinies. Yet, I couldnever be certain whether he would have been in favor or against it.

He, along with the rest of my family, was brutally murdered, their lives extinguished in an act of unspeakable violence.

Everyone I cherished, my parents, my three brothers, their wives, and their innocent children, all ripped from this world in an instant.

The memory of that day hung over me like a dark, unyielding cloud.

The weight of survivor’s guilt pressed down on my shoulders so heavily that at times it felt as though it might crush me entirely.

Before that tragic day, our lives revolved around joyful vacations filled with laughter and warmth. We spent carefree days on the sun-kissed beach, where the children built sandcastles, their giggles mixing with the sounds of the waves. Meanwhile, the adults savored wine, spirits lifted as they shared stories and games together late into the night after the kids had gone to sleep.

But everything changed in one afternoon.

I was supposed to join them for lunch that day, but an urgent meeting came up, one I couldn’t ignore. It was a crucial deal I had spent months negotiating, and I’d finally reached the verge of sealing a contract that would expand our restaurants into a sprawling new mega-resort. Getting everything signed and sealed meant transforming our fortunes in a way we had never imagined.

The meeting concluded better than anticipated, with the developers inviting us into other ventures.

Eager to share the triumph, I hurried back to my family.

My heart raced with excitement, and I was ready to celebrate. However, when I arrived, everything I knew was destroyed. In my absence, a horrific attack had taken the lives of all of them. The news left me in shock and horror.

Afterward, regret consumed me, a persistent presence suggesting I should have been there.

Maybe I could have protected them. My being there might have changed things. This haunting sense of failure etched itself into my being, a weight I bore daily, as substantial as an iron cloak.

The day everyone I loved died, a piece of my soul withered with them.

Everything that followed felt irrevocably altered, as if the colors of my world had dimmed forever.

Investigations revealed a shocking betrayal. Distant family members, driven by greed, had orchestrated the violence, believing it would grant them control over the family business. They had not anticipated my survival, nor realized the depth of my father’s foresight.

Julius Boscos, my father, was both wise and pragmatic. Recognizing life’s unpredictability, he taught my brothers and me about business and the art of wielding power. His teachings became our armor, and even though he was no longer with us, his legacy continued to influence me as I navigated a syndicate world that had been forever altered.

After locating the individuals responsible and ensuringthey all faced a fate of immense suffering, I found myself shattered, coming to the painful realization that revenge did little to ease the constant guilt eating away at my soul.

Despite the emptiness left by revenge, I learned to coexist with that void, transforming my agony into a driving force to seize control of the company.

I was just twenty-one, and the world viewed me as too green, too untested.

They were right, in a way.

Yet, countless times, I had been the unseen observer during my father’s tough business negotiations, absorbing more knowledge than most could imagine.

Initially, everyone underestimated me, and truth be told, there were moments when I doubted myself too.

Yet, there were moments when the depths of my ruthlessness caught me off guard. The pain that had once threatened to consume me became a wellspring of power, enabling me to tackle tough decisions with a steely resolve. Swift and unrelenting, I mastered the art of dealing with adversaries who dared to challenge me, wielding a blend of precision and keen insight.

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