It was 10 a.m. in the Wells mansion,
Sunlight poured through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling warm golden light across the marble floors and illuminating the elegant furniture that filled the spacious living room. Outside, the gardens were perfectly trimmed, the fountains quietly flowing beneath the clear morning sky.
The mansion was unusually peaceful.
Staff moved quietly through the halls, carrying trays of freshly prepared breakfast and arranging everything for the Wells family's late morning meal. The faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries drifted through the house.
Everything looked perfect.
It's almost too perfect.
In the dining room, Mr. and Mrs. Wells sat across from each other at the long table.
Neither of them was eating.
A stack of documents sat untouched beside Mr. Wells' coffee, while his fingers remained wrapped tightly around the cup.
His wife glanced at him.
He didn't look up.
Their daughter Iris walked into the dining room dressed in a short black off-the-shoulder dress paired with her favourite white fluffy shoes and pearl earrings to compliment it.
"Good morning, Dad..... morning Mom." She said as she pulled out a chair and sat.
The maid, Nora, walked it to serve her.
"Morning Nora." Iris said.
"Morning, miss Wells." Nora replied.
"What would you like for breakfast?" She asked.
"Hmm...." she said, thinking. "Probably pancakes." She said.
"No problem, miss Wells." Nora replied.
Iris reached for her glass of orange juice, but before taking a sip, she glanced between her parents.
Her father was staring down at the documents beside him.
Her mother hadn't touched her coffee.
Iris narrowed her eyes.
Something was definitely wrong.
"Okay…" she said slowly. "What's going on?"
Her mother looked up.
"Nothing, sweetheart." she said, smiling nervously.
Iris raised an eyebrow.
"Mom, you've been staring at the same cup of coffee for the past five minutes."
Her father finally looked at her.
"Iris—"
"And Dad," she added, pointing at the documents, "you've been pretending to read those since I walked in."
Silence.
Iris leaned back in her chair.
"So…" she said. "Are you two going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Okay...." Mrs wells said slowly. "We didn't want to bother you, but we are having a little bit of a financial problem." She said.
"She means to say we are broke." Mr Wells said as he furiously dropped the documents on the table. "We are bankrupt. " He added.
"Anthony!" Mrs Wells said.
"She deserves to know the truth. She is not a child, dont sugar coat it for her."
Iris stared at him.
For a moment, she didn't say anything.
The word bankrupt echoed in her mind.
"What?"
Her father sighed, running a hand over his face.
"The company has been struggling for months, Iris. We tried to fix things before it got this bad, but—"
"But you couldn't?" she asked.
Anthony shook his head.
Iris glanced at the documents scattered across the table.
"How bad is it?" she asked.
Her mother reached across the table and gently took her hand.
"Bad enough that we could lose the company."
Iris's stomach dropped.
"The company?"
"And possibly the house," her father added quietly.
Iris pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair.
She looked around the dining room—the marble floors, the crystal chandelier, the expensive furniture, everything she had grown up believing would always be there.
Suddenly, it all felt fragile.
"So what are we supposed to do? I mean there has to be someone who can help us." she asked.
Anthony exchanged a look with his wife.
And Iris immediately knew there was something they hadn't told her yet.
"There is… one family that might be able to help us," her father said.
Iris frowned and said, "Who?"
"The Blackwoods?" She asked
Her father nodded.
"You know who they are." He added.
Of course she did.
Everyone knew who the Blackwoods were.
They were one of the most powerful families in the country, with businesses stretching across several industries and connections that seemed to reach everywhere.
Iris picked up her glass of orange juice but didn't drink from it.
"Why would they help us?"
Anthony exchanged another look with his wife.
That look made Iris's stomach twist.
"Dad?"
He leaned back in his chair.
"The Blackwoods have the resources to save the company. They can take over the debt, restructure the business, and keep the Wells name from going under."
Her father hesitated.
"And they're going to help us?" she asked.
"They're willing to," Anthony replied.
Iris's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Then that's good, isn't it?" Iris asked.
Her mother exchanged a nervous glance with Anthony.
Iris immediately noticed.
"What?" she asked.
"There's a condition," her mother said quietly.
Iris slowly lowered her glass.
"What condition?" she asked.
Anthony leaned back in his chair.
"We don't know." he said.
Iris blinked.
"You don't know?" she said.
"Not yet." He said.
"Then how do you know there's a condition?" she said.
Her father sighed and said,
"The Blackwoods made it clear that they are willing to help us, but there is something they expect from our family in return."
Iris frowned.
"And they didn't tell you what it is?" she said.
"They said they'd discuss it in person." Her mother said.
Iris stared at both of them.
"In person?"
Her mother nodded.
"They're coming here this afternoon." Her mother added
Iris's eyes widened.
"The Blackwoods are coming here?"
"Yes." Anthony replied.
She sat back slowly, trying to process everything.
Just a few minutes ago, she had been thinking about pancakes.
Now, she was sitting at the breakfast table discussing her family's bankruptcy and the arrival of one of the most powerful families in the country.
"When?" she asked.
Anthony glanced at his watch.
"Around four." He said.
Iris exhaled.
"And you still have no idea what they want?" she said.
Her father shook his head.
"No."
Iris looked between her parents.
Something about the whole situation didn't feel right.
Whatever the Blackwoods wanted, she had a feeling it was going to change everything.