Chapter 1: The Beginning
By: Farah Diyanah
The heavy oaken doors slid open quietly, rustling only the sparse speck of dust sullying on the floor. A young man emerged soon afterwards, his green eyes sparkled at the sight before him. Pearl black marbled floors streaked with thin veins of gold, velvet red curtains draped across the walls, all perfectly decorated with antique furniture adding a touch of elegance to the already majestic ballroom. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling prismatically, providing an ample golden wash of light. Noblemen and women gathered that night in their finest gowns and jewels, well suited for the aristocratic community.
He smirked slightly. This was the Maxwell way of life.
Loud chatters and laughter filled the room, but he had to stifle a yawn. Every year his family would throw an international annual ball for all the aristocrats in the society.
In other words, it was just another event where all the rich prats get together to boast about their wealth and successful lives. After the first few years, it became rather dull.
He strode through the crowd, nodding politely to those who had made eye contact with him and ignoring the constant whispers of women as they bat their eyelashes flirtatiously at him. He was a tall young man, with thick blonde hair and possessed the famous aristocrat sharp features, but what made him stood out from the others were his icy blue eyes that hypnotizes anyone that gaze upon them.
"Pardon me, ladies."
He smiled handsomely at the group of women who blushed and giggled hysterically, giving way to the young man. He made his way towards a group of men chatting in the centre of the room.
"Sorry to interrupt you gentlemen, but I believe you requested for my presence?" he asked an older blonde man who held a glass of champagne in his hand.
"Yes, of course." His cold expression turned smug and he nodded in agreement.
"I wanted you to have the opportunity to meet these fine gentlemen. Mr. Thomas Carter, Mr. John Parker, Mr. Drew White and Mr. Cole Austin. They are the top members of the aristocratic family that I have not had the pleasure of introducing you to." He shook their hands firmly and nodded in agreement.
"Truly an honour, sirs, to be formally introduced at last. I have heard many great things about your successes," he said politely. The four men smiled proudly in response, looking curiously at the young man that stood before them. The older blonde man placed his arm around his shoulders.
"And this young man here," he said smoothly with a slight tone of arrogance in his voice, "Is my Son. Zachary. Zachary Maxwell."
"It was nice meeting you gentlemen, but if you'd excuse me for a moment, I'd like to have a word with my father?"
His father raised his eyebrow questioningly.
"Gentlemen," Mr. Maxwell nodded politely and turned to his son.
"Lead the way then." The two Maxwells headed towards into the study room. Zachary sat himself on the couch and folded his arms lazily across his chest.
"Father, is it really necessary that I attend this event, every year." He spat in annoyance.
"Listening to those old fools really takes all of my energy away." He sighed tiredly as he pushed his hair back, a charming gesture that never failed to make any women swoon. His father scowled at his son as his expression grew colder.
"Now you listen here, Zachary." He spoke in a dangerous tone.
"Those old fools you speak of are the people that should be worthy of your time. They- no, we, are the most powerful, successful and best group of people in this damned community. And it is your job to get closely acquainted to them for the future of the Maxwell Coorporations. Unless, you'd rather spend your time with... the others."
He snapped his fingers, indicating the need of assistance from his servant, who quickly stood by his side and presented a towel. He snatched it angrily, before wiping his face.
Zachary brows furrowed at his father. The nerve of him, trying to imply that he would rather spend his time with mere commoners rather than the superior? The group of people who struggle to live and constantly need to work for money and have no assets or inheritance whatsoever?
He stood up stiffly, his expression was cold.
"I assure you, father, that I would rather be dead than indulge myself with those kind of people." He spat in disgust rolling his eyes at the blushing servant who glanced shyly at his father. He made his way towards the door, blazing with anger.
"Oh, and Zachary?" he called out lazily as he fixed the collar of his suit. Zachary stopped halfway, his hand lingered on the doorknob, but he refused to turn around and face him.
"I hope you meant what you said," he looked at his son with a scowl.
"Because I'll be damned if you ever brought one of them home." He said coldly, his scowl grew deeper just by the thought of it.
Zachary pursed his mouth into a smirk.
'Like that would ever happen.' He thought in amusement before leaving the room to join his fellow superiors.
A/N: This is only the introduction. I promise the next chapters will be longer! Please review!