South Bank of the Zingle River.
Seated in his wheelchair, Paul Holland gazed at the rolling waters of the Zingle River with a rare sense of serenity.
The river never stopped.
Like time itself, it flowed forward, relentless, indifferent to the fate of men and families. It had borne witness to countless rises and falls—heroes washed away by waves that knew no loyalty.
Once upon a time, the blood of many had stained these waters, fueling the meteoric rise of the Russell family. But that, too, had been a dream… one that eventually faded like ripples in the current.
This river, timeless and enduring, had seen the birth, glory, and ruin of the Russell family. It had seen the tides of power shift across New York. It knew cruelty. It knew history. And it always favored the strong.
Paul stared into the shimmering currents, dazed. After a long silence, he exhaled deeply and muttered, "The climate in New York has changed. In this change, we Hollands have finally found our place."
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Karl, standing behind him, echoed with enthusiasm, "Father, this time, the Holland family made the right move."
Paul nodded slowly, still watching the river. "Push me back. A real war is coming. One that will decide the power structure of New York for decades—perhaps even the next century."
"Yes, sir!" Karl said resolutely.
As the wheelchair turned back, the old river continued to flow, untouched and unsympathetic.
When a whale falls, all things are born.
That saying was truer now than ever.
The Russell family had once dominated the northern bank of the Zingle River—an immovable giant. Only by uniting could the forces on the southern side, including the so-called Duke of the Southern River, dare challenge them.
But now?
The fall of the Russell family had brought a new spring to the city's elite. It opened the gates to fresh ambitions, new strategies, and fierce competition.
It was a golden market—ripe for the taking.
Everyone wanted their share in the upcoming business wars, hungry for the chance to reshape their futures. Perhaps it was time to rename the Duke of the Southern River—the Duke of New York, at last.
The Remar Residence.
Zara Remar had skipped her tutorial class again.
She lay sprawled on the luxurious velvet sofa, legs kicked up carelessly, hugging her phone to her chest with a grin that radiated mischief and satisfaction.
"I knew Mr. Lopez couldn't be just some sugar baby," she beamed proudly, scrolling through social media posts.
Her grandfather, Stratton Remar, stood by the window, rubbing his temples in frustration. There was nothing he could do with this unruly, carefree girl.
Still, as he watched her giggle and wiggle on the sofa like a happy squirrel, his heart tightened a little—not with anger, but with concern.
She had completely fallen for John.
If it had been before the Russell family's collapse, Stratton might have actually encouraged it. He would've gone so far as to engineer "accidental" meetings just to push the two closer.
But things had changed.
After that day—after that revelation—Stratton realized how terribly wrong they had been.
He had once shared Maxwell's assumption: that John was merely the brother-in-law of the King of Horizon, a local boy with a bit of clout, but ultimately a small fish.
But John was the King of Horizon.
That changed everything.
The realization hit Stratton like a freight train. This wasn't just a man with connections. This was a man at the pinnacle. A figure feared, respected, and legendary throughout the country.
John had seen the world from the highest peaks. He had access to women of rare beauty, power, and poise.
Zara?
She was headstrong, lazy about her studies, and though cute and innocent in appearance, she lacked… something. Substance? Sophistication?
She had no edge. No real advantage.
Stratton's chest ached with helpless sorrow.
"Zara," he said finally, breaking the silence, "Grandpa has something important to tell you. You need to be prepared."
Zara sprang up, eyes wide. "Prepared? Grandpa, are you sick? Is it cancer? You're not going to die, are you?!"
She rushed over, hugging his neck tightly, eyes brimming with sudden tears.
"No! Grandpa, please don't die! I can't lose you!"
Stratton's expression darkened. "Get off me, you idiot!"
He shoved her off with mock sternness. "Your grandpa is as healthy as a horse! What kind of nonsense is that?"
"That's how it goes on TV!" she sniffed, snuggling back into the couch.
"I've told you to stop watching those brain-rotting dramas! It's clear I'll have to confiscate your phone soon."
"No way! My phone is my life!" Zara clutched her device like a sacred relic.
Stratton gave a long, suffering sigh. "If your phone is your life, then what about Mr. Lopez?"
The moment she heard that name, Zara's cheeks flushed a deep red.
"Ugh! Grandpa! Why are you bringing up Mr. Lopez again? I was talking about my phone! I-I mean… I like Mr. Lopez, but we haven't… y'know… gotten that far yet!"
She tapped her toes on the carpet like a bashful schoolgirl.
Stratton sighed again, heavier this time.
She's fallen for him… hard.
"Zara," he asked solemnly, "do you think Mr. Lopez is… excellent?"
"Of course!" she replied instantly, her eyes lighting up. "He's handsome, crazy strong, and he rides his bike faster than an Audi! When I told the other students about it, they thought I was lying!"
She was practically glowing.
Stratton couldn't bear to interrupt her enthusiasm, but he had to cut in. "Alright, enough. Listen—if you know he's that amazing, don't you think you should be working harder to deserve him?"
Zara's expression froze.
Her world tilted.
What… What did Grandpa mean?
Was Mr. Lopez… rejecting her? Did he think she wasn't good enough?
No! No no no!
It felt like someone stabbed her heart with a thousand thorns.
Was it really so tragic to be heartbroken before love even began?
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Uhhhh… w-why… why would he think I'm not good enough…" she sobbed.
Stratton panicked and quickly backtracked. "N-No, no! He didn't say that! I just meant—if you become even better, you'd be an even better match for him!"
Zara was already crying, a snotty, dramatic mess.
"But that's just a nicer way of saying I'm not good enough… Waaaah!"
Stratton couldn't watch her break down any longer. He blurted out, "Okay! Okay! Mr. Lopez told me himself—if you get accepted into New York University, he'll agree to date you!"
Her sobbing stopped.
"...Really?" she sniffed.
"Really!" Stratton nodded.
Zara stared at him for a long moment, then raised her pinky.
"Whoever cheats is a dog."
"…Woof."