True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

At the Bryant family. 

• Horace had spent the better part of his day at the police station, giving a statement regarding an incident at the local high school where those students were found passed out in an abandoned wing. The bureaucratic aftermath kept him busy well into the evening. 

By the time Horace got home, it was later than Springer’s arrival. 

Springer, all energy and teenage angst, practically leaped at Horace the moment he walked through the front door. “Hey, Horace, what’s the scoop? Did you manage to smooth things. over?” 

With a cool glance that could freeze Springer, Horace replied, “Of course. Can you imagine the online frenzy if the news got out? A bunch of kids playing in an old school building, ending up unconscious? We’d have been the town’s hottest gossip.” 

Springer tossed him a thumbs–up, his admiration for Horace as clear as the day. “You’re the man! Speaking of hot, it’s like an oven in here. Does the A/C even work?” 

As he complained, Springer made a show of fanning his T–shirt collar, which did little to hide the Amulet that hung around his neck. 

Horace, with a sly smile playing on his lips, zeroed in on the accessory. “That’s a nifty T–shirt. New?” 

Springer, oblivious to the actual question, boasted, “Oh, this old thing? You mean the Amulet? Yeah, Winnie gave it to me. It’s identical to yours and Clifford’s!” 

Leonie, who had been eavesdropping from the living room, rolled her eyes. 

Springer had made quite the show when he first got home, prancing about with the Amulet like a peacock in mating season. 

Leonie had asked him, “Why are you back so soon? Didn’t you stay at the hospital for a check–up?” 

To which Springer had replied, “Leonie, this Amulet is like a force field, guaranteed by Winnie. It wards off all ailments. Who needs a check–up when you’ve got magic like this?” 

Leonie couldn’t help but wonder. Just last week, Springer could barely stand the sight of Winnie, and now he’s returned home a changed man, completely under her spell. This had to be some kind of bewitchment. 

Horace, playing along, leaned in for a closer look at the Amulet and nodded. “Nice piece, but that chain is pretty standard issue.” 

Springer was quick to respond, “You’ve got that cool leather cord, right? Hook me up with one of those.” 

With an inscrutable smile, Horace teased, “You sure? Wouldn’t want to cramp your style with something so low–key.” 

Springer stiffened, his pride wounded. “Low–key? The leather cord is a timeless classic, the epitome of understated elegance. It’s the perfect complement to any gem!” 

Horace extended his laughter. “Well, look at that, you’re finally getting your wits about you.. I’ll have someone send one up to you.” 

With that, Horace sauntered upstairs, leaving Springer to stew in the realization that he’d just been subtly mocked. 

When Winnie returned to the family abode, she found Springer on the front hall staircase, fussing over her precious pet, Pretty. Springer who had previously scorned her furry companion was now doting on it like a besotted servant. 

Catching a glimpse of Winnie, Springer flickered with embarrassment, but he quickly recovered. scooping up Pretty and heading her way. “Are you back? I thought Pretty looked lonely in your room, so I let it out for a bit of fun.” Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

Winnie watched the transformed Springer with a mix of bemusement and suspicion. With a nod, she reached out to take Pretty back but Springer sidestepped, motioning towards the parlor, “Someone’s here to see you.” 

Surprised that anyone besides the Henderson family would come looking for her at the Bryant family. Winnie bypassed reclaiming her fox and headed towards the parlor. 

Inside, she found Leonie chatting with a visitor. As Winnie adjusted to the dim light, she recognized the guest with a sense of inevitability. It was Delia. 

One day, Delia, having recently obtained her driver’s license, decided to take her newfound freedom for a spin near Emerald University, renowned for its picturesque campus which drew tourists from all over each summer. 

The area was as lively as ever, but traffic near the university was at a standstill. Without hesitation, Delia decided to make a U–turn and escape the congestion. However, no sooner had she turned around than she accidentally brushed a pedestrian with her car. 

Heart pounding, Delia killed the engine and rushed out, only to find a young man with the dignified air of an academic deity, dressed in a crisp shirt and slacks. He looked up at her with a polite smile, despite the mishap. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you… Are you okay?” Delia asked, her voice laced with concern. 

The young man brushed off the accident with an easy grace. “I’m fine, but unfortunately, this isn’t.” Delia’s gaze followed to the bag he was holding, which now lay on the ground. Its contents, a plaster sculpture, evidently damaged. 

“Let me pay for it,” Delia said, reaching for her phone without hesitation. 

The young man flickered his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her gesture, but he shook his 

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head. “It’s not about the money. I made it myself for an art competition this summer.” 

Realizing the value of the sculpture extended beyond money, Delia grew solemn. But the young man, with a resigned chuckle, suggested fate had other plans for his artwork. 

Della, being responsible, firmly stated, “There has to be some worth to it. Just name your price.” 

She was ready to compensate him even if it meant matching the prize money of the exhibition, yet the young man remained steadfast in his refusal. Then, unexpectedly, he spoke up, steering the conversation in an unforeseen direction… 

Delia was caught off guard when the man made such an unexpected request. She hadn’t even processed the idea when he pulled out his phone. 

“May I add you on Facebook?” he asked, exuding a polite and gentlemanly air. “If you really want to make up for me, or can you be my hand model? Your hands are very beautiful just as my work in this competition is hand model plaster…” 

Without giving it much thought, Delia instinctively reached for her phone. 

But just as she was about to accept the friend request, a warning from Ms. Bryant at the dinner party the other night flashed through her mind. 

“You’ve got some bad romance coming your way; watch out for those who make you feel indebted to them.” 

Initially. Delia hadn’t taken it seriously. Yet, in the presence of this man, her thoughts snapped back to Winnie’s advice. 

Bad romance, feeling indebted… 

It all clicked into place. 

Delia was never one for superstitions. But she was always one to heed good advice and err on the side of caution. 

So, she stopped reaching for her phone and instead slipped out a business card from her sleek cardholder. 

Handing it over with cool and detached air, she said, “This is my personal assistant’s card. Any requests you have can be directed to her. She’ll find you an excellent hand model. I’ll take care of the expenses.” 

With that, she didn’t give him a chance to continue the conversation. Delia gracefully got into her car and drove off, leaving the young man behind in a cloud of bewilderment. 

Della was not one to be duped easily.