Chapter 280: Family

Chapter 280: Chapter 280: Family

The floor-to-ceiling glass paneling of Golden Investments’ corner executive office framed a sweeping, panoramic view of Aurelia’s financial district. High above the chaotic morning traffic below, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the climate control and the occasional rustle of heavy paper.

Sitting behind his dark mahogany desk, Jake leaned back in his leather chair, his thumbs slowly flipping through the thick, glossy pages of an auction catalog. Across the desk, Alice sat with her tablet perched on her lap, monitoring incoming communications while waiting for him to finish reviewing the file.

The booklet was embossed with gold foil along its spine, bearing the crest of the Meridian Gallery. Inside were high-resolution photographs, historical provenance logs, and estimated bidding ranges for over fifty rare artifacts, classical paintings, and high-end jewelry sets scheduled to hit the block this coming Friday night.

Jake paused on a page featuring a pair of mid-nineteenth-century sapphire cufflinks set in oxidized platinum. Beside it was a detailed summary detailing their origin from an old European aristocrat’s private vault.

He raised an eyebrow, tossing the catalog onto the desk where it landed with a dull thud.

"Where on earth is the Gallery even sourcing items like these?" Jake asked, tapping a finger against the cover. "Some of these private collections haven’t seen the open market in thirty years."

Alice adjusted her glasses, leaning forward slightly. "The gallery director leveraged the recent market restructuring, Mr. Rivers. When news broke that Golden Sheele took over Newman Enterprise’s luxury asset branch, several legacy estates and private collectors reached out directly. They know the Golden Investments brand attracts the highest concentration of liquid capital in Veyra right now. They want their pieces sold where the money is."

Jake let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "They certainly didn’t waste any time capitalizing on the brand."

’It’s almost absurd how fast the vultures circle when they smell real liquidity,’ Jake thought, staring absentmindedly at the catalog’s cover. ’Half these collectors wouldn’t have given Golden Investments the time of day had I not been rhis successful. Now they’re tripping over themselves to feature their heirlooms in our hall.’

He glanced down at his watch. It was already mid-afternoon on Wednesday. He had promised his parents earlier in the week that he would come over for dinner, and if he didn’t clear his schedule now, the evening would get swallowed by late-night market reports.

Taking out his phone, Jake scrolled to Aliya’s contact and hit call.

It rang three times before picking up, the background noise of the university lawn bleeding faintly through the speaker.

"What do you want, my dear big brother?" Aliya’s voice came through, loaded with her usual theatrical fatigue. "I’m in between lectures. If this is about me missing morning study sessions, I was in the library."

"Relax, I’m not checking your attendance," Jake said dryly, resting an elbow on the armrest. "I’m calling about dinner. We’re going to Mom and Dad’s place tonight. I told them we’d drop by."

There was a short pause on the other end, followed by a dramatic sigh. "Why do I have to go today? You’re the one who promised them. Can’t you just go alone?"

"And miss out on having someone to tease at the dinner table?" Jake replied without missing a beat, a faint smirk touching his lips. "Not a chance. Besides, Mom explicitly said if I showed up without you, she was going to pack three containers of leftover casserole and force me to bring them back to my apartment. You’re coming to take half the food."

"You’re terrible," Aliya groaned, though he could hear the smile in her tone. "Fine. What time?"

"I’ll pick you up from campus around six, or you can take a car straight there," Jake said. "Just don’t be late. Dad’s probably already firing up the grill or bothering Mom in the kitchen."

"I’m never the late one," Aliya retorted instantly. "You’re the one who doesn’t understand the concept of time. I’ll see you at the house."

She hung up before he could respond. Jake chuckled, tossing his phone back onto the desk and turning his attention back to Alice.

"Clear my evening after five," he instructed. "Anything else can wait until tomorrow morning."

"Understood, Mr. Rivers," Alice replied, making a quick note on her tablet.

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By six-thirty that evening, the sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, casting an orange and pink hue over the quiet residential neighborhood.

The Rivers family home—a comfortable, four-bedroom house looked as warm and familiar as it always had. Despite the vast, staggering fortune Jake had accumulated over the past few months, his parents had stubbornly refused every attempt he made to move them into a sprawling estate in the city’s private district.

To Martha and Ryan Rivers, this house—with its slightly squeaky front porch step and the old oak tree in the front lawn—was home.

Inside the kitchen, the rich, savory aroma of roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, and fresh garlic bread filled the air. Martha Rivers was standing near the stove, wearing a faded floral apron as she stirred a simmering pot of gravy.

In the living room just off the hallway, Ryan Rivers sat in his favorite worn leather armchair, the television playing a low news broadcast while Aliya sat on the adjacent sofa, casually kicking her feet up on the edge of the coffee table.

"Get your feet off the table before your mother sees you," Ryan warned without taking his eyes off the screen, holding a glass of iced tea.

"Mom’s busy stirring the pot, she can’t see me," Aliya replied smoothly, though she lowered her feet anyway, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a crunching bite.

Just then, the front door clicked open, followed by the soft thud of dress shoes stepping onto the hardwood entryway.

"Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Aliya called out loudly toward the hallway, not even turning around. "The great corporate tycoon manages to make it home before eight o’clock! Mark it on the calendar, Dad!"

Jake stepped into the living room, loosening his dark silk tie and unbuttoning the top collar of his crisp white shirt. He tossed his jacket over the back of an armchair and glared playfully at his younger sister.

"Haven’t you heard of something called traffic?" Jake rhetorically asked, walking over and lightly tapping the top of Aliya’s head with his rolled-up papers. "What did you do today? Sit on a park bench and gossip all day?"

Aliya ducked her head with a scoff, swatting his hand away. "Hey! That gossip was very educational, thank you very much. And don’t hit my head, I need all my brain cells to meet our bet."

Ryan chuckled, setting his glass down as he looked up at his son. "Ignore her, Jake. She’s been complaining about her module exams for the last twenty minutes until you walked through the door."

"I was not complaining! I was stating facts!" Aliya protested, rolling her eyes.

Martha walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. A soft, warm smile spread across her face as she saw Jake standing in the living room.

"Jake, sweetheart," Martha said, walking over to give him a brief, tight hug. "Don’t listen to your sister. Come sit down, dinner is almost ready."

"Smells incredible, Mom," Jake said, relaxing into the atmosphere of the house.

No matter how chaotic the capital markets get, Jake thought, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away as he looked around the familiar room, this place never changes.

Aliya stood up, folding her arms as she looked Jake up and down. "So, Mr. CEO... did you drive that ridiculous sports car here, or did you actually drive something normal for once?"

"I drove the usual, " Jake replied mildly, walking toward the dining table. "Unlike a certain someone, I don’t feel the need to show off everywhere I go."

"Oh, please!" Aliya gasped dramatically, following him into the dining room. "You literally bought an expensive car just because you felt like it!"

"I bought it as an investment asset," Jake corrected, pulling out a chair for his mother as she brought over a large serving dish. "It just so happens to be a car."

Ryan joined them at the table, sitting at the head while Martha took her seat opposite him. The table was packed with home-cooked dishes—roasted chicken, buttered potatoes, fresh green salads, and steaming bowls of homemade soup.

"So," Ryan started, carving off a piece of chicken. "I heard from one of my old colleagues that your name was on the front page of the financial news again today, Jake. Something about an auction this Friday?"

"Yeah, the Meridian Gallery auction," Jake said, taking a spoonful of potatoes. "It’s the first major event we’re holding since taking full operational control."

Aliya paused with her fork halfway to her mouth, exchanging a quick, subtle glance with Jake before turning to her parents.

"Speaking of Friday night..." Aliya said, her voice dropping into a casually innocent tone. "My old high school class is having a reunion that exact same evening."

Jake looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Where?"

Aliya took a slow bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully before flashing a sweet, mischievous grin.

"At the Meridian Crown," she said smoothly. "Apparently, Alan booked a private VIP booth. Liv came all the way across campus today just to personally hand me an invitation so I could ’experience what high society feels like.’"

Ryan frowned slightly, looking confused. "Who’s Liv?"

"Just an old classmate who thinks she runs the city," Aliya dismissed with a wave of her hand.

Jake, however, leaned back in his chair, a slow, dark glint of amusement passing through his eyes as he looked at his sister.

’So that’s why she accepted so easily,’ Jake realized, a dry smile creeping onto his face. ’She’s planning a little spectacle.’

"Is that so?" Jake murmured, taking a sip of water. "The Crown, huh? I suppose I should inform the director to make sure their service is... up to standard for such prestigious guests."

"Oh, don’t worry about it," Aliya smirked, taking a sip of her juice. "I want Friday night to be interesting."

Martha looked between her two children, shaking her head with a gentle sigh, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "I don’t know what you two are plotting, but please try not to break anything expensive."

"We won’t, Mom," Jake said smoothly, casting one last amused glance at Aliya across the table. "We’re just going to enjoy dinner."

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