Monday Morning
The sun rose over Star Harbor, casting golden light across the quiet streets as a light breeze swept through. The city was beginning to wake—shops opening, people hustling to work—but for Miles Sterling, the rhythm never really slowed.
Inside his sleek black car, dressed in his usual sharp, understated style, Miles leaned back in the driver’s seat as the engine purred down the tree-lined avenue leading to the university. His eyes flicked toward the dashboard clock. 7:42 AM.
He tapped the call button on the wheel. The line connected instantly. "Hello, boss," came June’s crisp, alert voice on the other end. She sounded like she’d already been at work for hours. "Do we begin then?"
Miles spoke with calm precision. "Start employee onboarding for operations. Use trusted people. If we’re short, get them from Reaper’s HR pool. I want speed over paperwork."
"Understood," June responded, already typing something in the background.
"We’re targeting the media sector first," Miles continued. "I want major news companies in this country—either investments or full acquisitions. I don’t care which. We clean them up. Cut the corruption. Filter out biased puppets. We’re building a clean narrative."
"Got it," June said, her tone firmer.
"Tell Monica to set up a new Sterling corporate bank account. All transactions go through it. I don’t want anything connected to Reaper’s financial architecture on the surface. This needs to look like a clean, standalone empire."
"Already texting her, boss," June replied. "She’ll get it ready by end of day."
"Good," Miles said. Then added: "Within two weeks, I want the foundation for Sterling Media in place. Name, structure, key channels. Hire a top celebrity or two to be the brand face. Push them to the front of every major screen in this country."
June’s voice carried an excited edge now. "Alright, boss. Consider it done."
The call ended. Miles gave a small smile as he rolled down the windows, the wind gently brushing against his face.
From a student who’d technically never passed high school, to the founder of a rising empire—this wasn’t luck.
This was intent.
.........
2 WEEKS LATER!!!!
The winds in Star Harbor had shifted.
In just fourteen days, the city—once ruled by familiar names and stagnant empires—was now echoing with the rise of a name thought to be buried in history:
Sterling.
The media storm began with a shocking announcements:
Celina Wraithbourne, fresh out of university, had officially graduated and been appointed the new CEO of Wraithbourne Holdings—one of the country’s most powerful conglomerates, known for its vast real estate, logistics, and energy interests.
Though Victor Wraithbourne retained the title of Chairman, overseeing the weapons and defense manufacturing arm, he declared in a press statement:
"The next generation must lead with modern vision. Celina is capable and fierce—and this marks a new era for the Wraithbourne’s."
Celina, in her first public address, stood tall in a sharp gray suit, her voice calm and commanding as she said:
"Legacy is not about preservation. It’s about transformation. And I intend to transform everything."
The world listened—and watched.
If the Wraithbourne’s were ascending, the Nile family was plummeting.
Whispers turned to headlines as Ross Nile, the arrogant young heir once bragging about floor ownership in Cinder Square, was arrested in a drug trafficking scandal. Grainy footage of him stumbling from a hotel in a daze, surrounded by contraband, went viral overnight.