[Daniel’s PoV]

  As I step into the office—a modest yet well-appointed space spanning 2,000 square feet in the heart of Brunswick—I take in the familiar sight. Nearly a dozen men and women are at their desks, their focus unwavering as they pore over documents and scribble away on ledgers. Just another day in the life of accountants.

  The quiet hum of productivity fills the room, punctuated by the occasional rustle of paper or the soft clatter of a typewriter. Despite the steady activity, the atmosphere is far from chaotic. It’s structured, methodical—almost soothing in its predictability.

  I weave my way through the rows of desks, exchanging nods with a few employees who have grown used to my presence. They acknowledge me with polite smiles, some even offering a quick “Good morning, Daniel.” It’s a stark contrast to the cold, impersonal world my father left behind in New York, where every interaction was a calculated move in an unending corporate chess game.

  Brunswick is different. The people here are different. My father chose this place because he wanted me to grow up in an environment where life wasn’t dictated by boardroom politics or ruthless power struggles.

  New York had never felt like home, at least not to him. Born into the Lewis family—one of the most powerful business dynasties in the country—my father, Adam Lewis, had always been an outlier. Unlike his trueborn brothers, who fought tooth and nail for control of Lewis Corps, he never wanted to be part of that world. The high-stakes, cutthroat environment of New York wasn’t just unhealthy for a child—it was suffocating.

  So, he left.

  He turned his back on the family empire and the fortune that came with it, choosing instead to carve out his own path. He moved to Brunswick when I was just a toddler, bringing nothing with him but some funds, a sharp mind, an iron will, and a dream of building something of his own.

  I’ve always admired him for that.

  “Daniel,” a familiar voice calls out, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I turn to see Mr. Whitmore, my father’s right-hand man and the firm’s senior accountant, standing by the door to my father’s office. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly combed back, and his glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose. He’s been with my father since the very beginning, one of the few who believed in his vision when others scoffed at the idea of an independent fund in a small town like Brunswick.

  “Your father’s in the office,” he says with a knowing smile, motioning toward the door.

  I nod and make my way inside, ready for whatever awaits me today.

  As I slowly open the door, and peek inside, I find father looking out of the window, overlooking the river, one hand in his pocket while the other holds the receiver. I can hear the deep, steady tone of his voice as he speaks on the phone. His expression is calm yet authoritative—the kind that commands respect.

  Not wanting to interrupt, I settle into one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish his call. In the meantime, I glance around his office. It’s well-organized, with bookshelves lining the walls, filled with volumes on economics, business strategy, and investment theory. A large map of Maryland hangs behind his desk, marked with various notes and pins—analyzing regional market trends, no doubt.

  A few minutes later, he places the receiver down and turns to me with a warm smile. "Good to see you, Daniel. What brings you in today?"

  "Just thought I’d drop by," I say, leaning back in the chair. "And maybe learn a thing or two."

  His smile widens as he takes his seat. "Well then, what would you like to learn today?"

  I lean forward slightly, letting the weight of my thoughts settle in. There’s so much I want to ask him, to learn from him, but part of me wonders if now’s the right time. My father sees me as his child, a young boy with ambitions and ideas that stretch far beyond my years. But he doesn’t know everything—he doesn’t know what I’ve already lived through, the world I came from.

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  It’s strange, really. To sit here, in this life that feels like a second chance, and to see him as both a mentor and the obstacle I have to navigate around. He’s my father, and I love him, but I’ve been given a unique opportunity to reshape the future of this family, of this empire. And I will not let it slip through my fingers again.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s next,” I say, trying to sound casual, though my heart is racing. “I know you’ve built something here, something important. But how do you see the company growing? What’s the next step?”

  My father leans back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Growth is always the goal. But it’s not just about the money. It’s about the people—the partnerships, the trust. Our clients need to know they can rely on us, that we’re not just another flash-in-the-pan fund looking to make a quick buck. We’ve got to be here for the long haul.”

  I nod, processing his words. It sounds so simple when he says it, but I know there’s more to it than that. My father’s vision is clear, but it’s not always about keeping the status quo. To truly build something formidable, to secure my place in this world, I’ll have to take risks. Not reckless risks, but calculated ones—things that would push us to the forefront.

  “Do you think there’s room for something… bigger?” I ask, testing the waters.

  He raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Bigger? Like what? A larger fund? More investors?”

  “Something like that,” I reply carefully, my mind whirring. “What if we went after something bigger—broader? Not just private investors, but larger institutional ones. We could move into international markets, maybe expand into tech or venture capital.”

  His smile fades just a little, and he leans forward, clearly intrigued but cautious. “That’s ambitious for someone your age,” he says, his tone measured. “But I get the drive, Daniel. I do. And I’ve always admired your thinking. But expanding into those markets takes time, research, and most importantly—trust. You can’t force something like that. It has to be earned.”

  “I understand that,” I say quickly, trying to show him I’m not being naive. “But don’t you think it’s the right time to start laying the foundation? If we wait too long, we might miss the opportunity.”

  My father looks at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, as if trying to gauge whether I’m truly ready for such a leap. The truth is, I’m not ready. Not in the way he expects. But in this new life, I’ve learned to read people—really read them. I know what they want, what they fear, what they dream. And I can manipulate that, shape it to fit my goals.

  He leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in my words. “Maybe so,” he says after a beat, his voice calm but tinged with the weight of experience. “But you’re still young. I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. There’s no rush.”

  I nod, but inside, I feel a fire stirring. He’s right in one sense—there’s no rush. But there is urgency. Every day that passes is one day closer to the moment when I’ll take control of this empire. And I won’t wait forever.

  “So,” my father continues, his tone softening as he smiles again, “you want to learn, huh? What exactly do you have in mind? I’m happy to teach you anything, but you need to be clear about what you want.”

  I think for a moment, then stand and walk over to the window, standing next to him. The view of the river is calming, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts churning in my mind. I can’t just go through the motions, not when I have a chance to reshape everything.

  “I want to learn how to take this—” I gesture to the office, to the space, to the entire fund. “—and make it into something that rivals the giants. I want to understand the moves you’ve made, the decisions that have brought us here.”

  My father’s eyes flick to me, a glimmer of something—pride, maybe—shining in his gaze. But he’s still cautious. “It’s not as simple as you think. It’s about relationships, Daniel. Connections. Your name is important, but it’s not everything. What will make you stand out is your ability to connect with people, to earn their trust.”

  I nod again, but my mind is already working ahead. I know what he’s saying, and I know that’s the game. But I’ve played this game before.

  The world I came from—the one where I spent my first sixty-two years—was a place of cutthroat ambition. A place where loyalty could be bought, and trust was a commodity. I’ve seen the ins and outs of power, the way it shifts, the way it can be manipulated to get what you want. And I know this family business, this fund, is just the first stepping stone.

  As I glance out at the river again, I think about my trueborn uncles back in New York. They have no idea who I am now. No idea that I’ve returned, with a clear purpose and a plan. One day, I’ll take what is rightfully mine. Not as Daniel Lewis, the son of Adam, but as the rightful heir to the Lewis dynasty.

  And when that day comes, I’ll be ready.

  “Alright, Dad,” I say, turning back toward him with a smile. “Teach me. Let’s start with the basics.”

  He chuckles, clearly amused by my determination. “Well, we’d better get to work then.”