Kenneth's POV
I couldn't even remember my drive home.
The streets passed me like a blur to my view, the city lights kept sweeping across the windshield, but my mind wasn't there. It was still in that restaurant. Still sitting across from her.
Bianca.
The name played in my head, over and over and over again. Like it was meant to me memorized.
She was...breathtaking.
And not in the usual way not the polished, practiced way I had seen a number of times. No. There was something different about her. Like it was real. The kind of beauty that didn't try too hard to impress anyone, but it still managed to leave you thinking back after just one look.
Honestly, I had no plans that night. Just a simple dinner after a long day of contracts, meetings, and handshakes. I just wanted silence and a glass of wine, maybe a nice steak if it was up on the menu.
But then she happened.
She rushed up to me out of nowhere, put her hand under my arm like she belonged there, and called me honey like we had known each other for years.
At first, I thought she was just another one of them, those women who did those kind of things just to get attention. I had seen it too many times.
But then she looked at me. A deep look.
And I saw it.
Fear.
Panic buried behind in those her eyes.
Like she was running from something or someone.
And in that moment….
I couldn't just turn her away.
Whether it was a game or something real, I didn't care. I just needed her to take her inside with me. I needed to protect her, although I couldn't explain why.
I stepped into the house, I don't even remember when or how exactly I got to the house. The door closed shut behind me with a small thud. I tossed the keys onto the glass table and fell into the couch, the weight of the whole day finally releasing.
But my mind was still back at that table.
Bianca.
She was everything I had been looking for in a woman and there she was.
Although she was wearing those baggy clothes, I could picture her. A thick curvy woman, with the fat in the right places, not just her face, though God!, she was stunning. That soft, effortless beauty that didn't need any filters or make ups to make it real. Her curves, the gentle movement of her walk, the way her lips parted a bit when she smiled. It was all glued into my memory like I had it in replay. She was quite different from the ones that had been warming my bed.
Just one night, just one dinner, and she had left this imoression on me.
And for some damn reason….
I couldn't stop thinking about her.
I exhaled loudly, my hand running down my face as I sat back into the couch, my gaze fixed on the ceiling but instead I'm seeing her.
Bianca.
That name wasn't leaving my mind anytime soon.
I didn't even know her last name or her number, Just a first name.
I couldn't let it go.
Not when something about her pulled at me back to her.
I sat up slowly, hands stretched and reached for my phone.
Mental note:
First thing tomorrow, I'm calling my assistant.
I'll have him find out everything about Bianca.
The next morning, I woke up to a mix of emotions. Happy and empty all at the same time.
The thought of Bianca still stocked in my head. Her voice, her smile, the way she held onto my arm last night…. It all played on my mind on repeat.
And yet, she wasn't here.
That was the part that hurt..
I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, enjoying the silence, before I finally started to sit up slowly, it dragged me a bit, like my body didn't want to leave the bed just yet.
Then my phone rang.
I groaned.
It didn't matter who it was, anyone interrupting my sad moment instantly got my frustration.
But then I saw the name.
Grandfather.
I sat up straighter and answered it immediately. "Kenneth!"
"Yes, sir," I replied quickly, instantly sharp.
"I need to have a word with you. Come downstairs. ."
It wasn't a request.
"Yes, sir," I said again, already tossing the blanket aside.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to straighten it out and then grabbed a shirt, and left my room. The long hallway echoed with every step I took, as I made my way to the staircase.
And as I began walking down the stairs, I couldn't help but silently curse just how damn big this mansion was.
Of all mornings to start with a lecture, why this one?
I finally reached the ground floor and found him already seated in his usual chair.
My grandfather, already an aged man who had once commanded entire boardrooms with just the wave of his hand, he still had the same commanding presence, even till now. He wore a tailored dark robe, clean and straightened out and wore a gold ring on each of his hands.
"You wanted to talk about something?" I asked him I sat across his chair, keeping my posture straight, out of trained habit and a little bit more than respect.
"Yes," he said, bringing his hands together slowly. "Listen, Kenneth. You know I'm getting old."
"Yeah," I nodded quietly, unsure where this was headed but it was already tense.
"And you know I've been battling some health issues…" His voice fell slightly, but his eyes never left mine.
I nodded once, slowly.
"Yeah. I know."
"It's about the inheritance," he said, his voice becoming steady.
And just like that, I knew exactly where this conversation was going.
Again.
I had heard it before. Different ways. Different tones. But it was always the same message.
My grandfather, with all his brilliance and power, was a deep traditional man. To the core. To him, legacy wasn't just about the numbers or the stocks or the empires, it was about family, how it was supposed to be passed down. Sons and daughters raised and also trained and disciplined.
In his eyes, a man was unstable and not ready without a family, like he lacked direction and no matter how many boardrooms I had taken charge off.
No matter how many business deals I had closed
The one truth remained, in his eyes, it still kept me from being ready to receive the inheritance.
But then his next words completely caught me off guard.
"Get married within the next three months," he said, his words slow but with motives, "or everything, all of the inheritance, all of it goes to your brothers."