Building The Strongest Family

The rooftop garden of Osborn Restaurant was a serene oasis after dinner, the city's hum fading into a gentle murmur beneath the enchanting glow of bioluminescent vines that twisted gracefully around the terrace railings.

Sophia leaned against the balcony, her fingers gliding over the cool condensation on her glass of sparkling elderflower tonic.

The crisp night air carried a whisper of jasmine from the restaurant's lush vertical gardens, wrapping around her like a soft embrace.

Billy found her there ten minutes after he'd excused himself from the table, his dress shoes clicking rhythmically against the glass tiles.

He had loosened his tie and undone the first two buttons of his shirt, as if he'd been grappling with an invisible force.

"You ran away," Sophia remarked without turning her head.

"I needed air." He stepped closer, their shoulders nearly brushing together. Below them, Neo-Luminara sprawled out like an endless canvas of light and shadow.

A moment passed in silence before she asked, "Are you really going to do it?"

Billy exhaled sharply through his nose. "You heard Arthur. It's not like I have a choice."

Sophia turned to face him fully now, her dark eyes searching his for answers. "There's always a choice."

"Not in my family." His laugh was hollow and bitter. "You saw how Ashley looked when she talked about painting. That's our reality, wanting things for ourselves isn't part of the plan."

She set her glass down deliberately, determination etched on her face. "That's the most pretentious nonsense I've ever heard."

Billy blinked in surprise.

"You're acting like you're some kind of medieval prince being forced onto a throne,"

Sophia continued, her voice low but fierce. "But last I checked, you're just a twenty-two-year-old with a business degree and a trust fund big enough to rival Jupiter! If you don't want to work at Osborn Capital, then don't!"

"You don't understand…"

"Then make me!" The words burst out louder than she intended, but she took a steadying breath and softened her tone.

"Explain why the great Billy Osborn,who once hacked into the university's grading system just for fun,is suddenly powerless against his brother."

Billy's jaw worked silently for what felt like an eternity before he looked away. "It's not about power; it's about…"

His voice trailed off as he gripped the balcony railing tighter.

"About what?"

"What if I fail?" The admission slipped out barely above a whisper. "What if I'm not him?"

Sophia froze at that word: Him.Arthur.

Gently, she reached out and turned his face back toward hers with two fingers under his chin.

"Billy," she said slowly but firmly, "has it ever crossed your mind that your brother doesn't want you to be him?"

The silence hung between them, thick and palpable, punctuated only by the distant wail of a hovercar siren slicing through the night.

Finally, Billy leaned in closer until their foreheads touched, vulnerability etched across his face. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sophia offered a small but genuine smile. "Start by admitting you're scared," she advised softly.

"Then take some time to figure out what you want,forget about Arthur or your family for a moment. This is about you."

As if on cue, a street musician below began to play an old-world violin, the haunting notes drifting up through the cool night air like a challenge beckoning him to act.

Billy closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing her words and the music swirling around them. "I'll think about it," he finally replied.

It wasn't a no.

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The rooftop garden had transformed into a serene oasis, the bioluminescent vines glowing ever brighter as true night enveloped Neo-Luminara.

Sophia remained at her spot by the railing, now fully facing the city, her back pressed against the sleek polished steel.

Billy couldn't help but admire her profile, the way the vibrant neon lights below highlighted the determined set of her jaw.

"You think I'm being weak," he finally admitted, his voice barely rising above the distant hum of the city.

Sophia shook her head firmly. "No, I think you're just being an Osborn."

With a swift motion, she reached into her clutch and produced a slim silver case.

Flicking it open with practiced ease, she revealed a single holographic chip that shimmered in the dim light. "Do you know what this is?"

Billy squinted at it. "Looks like a neural interface driver."

"Exactly! First prototype for my thesis," she replied, tracing a finger along its edge with pride. "Self-adjusting synaptic feedback loops. But when my father saw it last month, he dismissed it with a wave: 'Cute. Now throw it away and focus on stabilizing the Valentine-7 protein chains.'"

Billy blinked in disbelief. "He... what?"

Sophia snapped the case shut with an air of finality. "The Valentine family has two rules: you work in biotech, and you surpass your predecessors. My brother dreamed of being a composer,now he's running our neurotoxin division."

Her laugh sliced through the air like broken glass. "So don't lecture me about family expectations."

Just then, a motorbike roared past somewhere below, its engine fading into the night like an echo of freedom.

Billy stared at her in shock. "You never told me that."

"Because it's not me," Sophia said simply but resolutely. "Just like Osborn Capital isn't you." She stepped closer; the scent of jasmine perfume cut through the urban aroma surrounding them like a breath of fresh air.

"The difference is, I fight my battles. Do you?"

For the first time that evening, Billy's shoulders straightened, not out of defiance but from realization.

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The private elevator descended in eerie silence, its mirrored walls reflecting Arthur's icy demeanor as the numbers ticked down toward the underground garage.

Beside him, Sophia stood poised and relaxed, though her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the strap of her clutch.

The faint scent of jasmine lingered around her,soft and delicate, a stark contrast to the sharp, metallic chill that hung heavy in the air between them.

She had sensed this moment brewing. The instant Billy was pulled away by a call from their aunt, Arthur had appeared at her side with a voice like tempered steel. "Let me walk you out." It wasn't a request; it was an order.

As the elevator chimed softly upon reaching the basement, the doors slid open to reveal an expansive, dimly lit garage where luxury vehicles sat in perfect formation.

Among them was Arthur's personal limo,a matte-black Veyron Hyperion GT500 custom-designed for him by Oscar, with tinted windows waiting like a predator, its engine humming almost silently. But Arthur didn't move toward it.

Instead, he turned to Sophia, his gaze as unreadable as polished stone. "You and my brother seem to have grown close up there on the rooftop," he remarked, gesturing upward.

Sophia met his eyes without flinching. "We talk."

A beat of silence passed before he commanded sharply, "Stop."

The word sliced through the air,precise and final.

Sophia arched an eyebrow defiantly. "Stop what?"

Arthur stepped closer; his presence felt suffocating as his voice dropped to a lethal murmur. "Stop filling his head with fantasies. Stop making him question things that are not his to question."

Unfazed, Sophia countered firmly, "Billy's smart. He can think for himself."

Arthur's expression remained unchanged, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes like a storm brewing on the horizon. "And you are overstepping."

Sophia crossed her arms defiantly. "Or what?"

For the first time since they entered that elevator, Arthur smiled, but it was cold enough to freeze hell over.

He reached into his suit jacket and withdrew his phone with deliberate precision. With a single tap, the screen illuminated his sharp features in ghostly light before he turned it toward her.

"Recognize this?"

Sophia's breath caught in her throat,it was a live feed from her father's company headquarters: every camera angle of the lobby and security desk laid bare before her eyes along with financial documents detailing Osborn Holdings' pending acquisition of Lockwood Industries.

Her stomach plummeted.

"You..." she managed to whisper.

Arthur tilted his head slightly as if savoring her reaction like fine wine. "Your father's life work,thirty years building an empire,and with one call…"

He let that hang ominously in the air like dark clouds before a storm. "I can reduce it to ashes."

Sophia's fingers clenched at her sides, a storm brewing within her. "He's done nothing to you."

"No," Arthur replied smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence. "But you have."

With a swift swipe of his finger, he pulled up another file on his phone,a recording. Billy's voice rang out clearly: "What if I don't want to be part of the family business?"

Sophia's response echoed back: "Then don't be."

Arthur's thumb hovered ominously over a button labeled send. "This goes to my father. And then?"

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against her ear. "I don't just ruin your family; I make sure Billy never speaks to you again."

Her pulse thundered in her ears as the garage fell into an eerie silence. Even the hum of the Hyperion's engine seemed muted, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Sophia forced herself to sound steady. "You wouldn't."

Arthur's smile was chilling, an icy façade that didn't reach his eyes. "Try me."

Desperately, she searched his face for any sign of doubt or weakness, but there was none; only the unwavering confidence of a man who had never lost a game in his life.

"What do you want?" she whispered, vulnerability creeping into her tone.

Arthur tucked his phone back into his pocket and adjusted his cuffs with unnerving calmness. "Simple. Be the pretty, obedient girlfriend. Smile at parties. Keep your opinions to yourself."

He paused for effect before adding, "And if I ever hear you putting ideas in my brother's head again..."

The unspoken threat hung between them like a heavy fog, thicker than stone.

Sophia felt her nails dig into her palms as anger surged through her veins. "You're a monster."

As he turned toward the limo, Arthur's voice floated back to her like an unsettling echo: "No, Sophia. I'm an Osborn."

The door clicked shut behind him with finality.

Frozen in place, she felt the weight of his threat pressing down on her like an oppressive force.

Suddenly, from the shadows emerged a voice: "I don't know when it started, but he always does that."

Sophia spun around to find Ashley leaning casually against a support beam, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

"The phone thing?" Ashley pushed off from the wall and stepped into the light with an air of confidence.

"Classic Arthur. But here's the kicker..." She paused dramatically before stepping closer to Sophia with a smirk that sent chills down her spine.

"He only shows you what he wants you to see."

Sophia's heart raced as confusion washed over her. "What does that mean?"

Ashley leaned in slightly and smiled brightly at Sophia before delivering her message with pointed clarity: "It means don't get yourself involved in family business, after all, you're not part of the family...are you?".

With that sentence hanging in the air,Ashley turned and left.

Leaving Sophia standing there with a daze expression on her face.