Scheme Against Clarke!

In the opulent surroundings of the Yves Saint Laurent Hotel in Skyrim City, an aura of luxury and prestige permeated the air. Renowned as one of the city's most extravagant hotels, it was a favorite haunt of the elite, including frequent visits from the three major families. The middle and upper echelons of society often spent lavishly here, hosting banquets in hopes of catching the attention of these powerful families.

In one of the hotel's most lavish presidential suites, a handsome young man with a lean build and youthful features lounged on a plush sofa. Despite his striking appearance, there was a pallor to his skin and a fatigue in his eyes, suggesting a recent recovery from illness. Resemblance to Clarke was evident in his features, but his expression bore a persistent furrow of concern, hinting at an unresolved internal struggle.

Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality when his light brain chip illuminated. Raising his wrist, he answered the call.

"Master Alexander," came a crisp voice from the other end.

"How's the surveillance going?" Alexander Higilton inquired, his eyes narrowing as he studied the projection of a blonde man with flowing hair and dark sunglasses, who appeared respectful yet distant.

"I've been monitoring Master Clarke for the past twelve days. Apart from one night he left his residence, he's stayed indoors, mostly confined to his bedroom," the blonde man reported. "Additionally, he's been in contact with Umbrella Company, possibly for a genetic optimization solution. Beyond that, there's been nothing unusual. Alex's face fell into a mask of disappointment. "I expected more from my brother's secretive life. It seems his secrets remain elusive."

After a moment's thought, he gave a new order, "Then, cease the surveillance."

The man on the other end exhaled quietly in relief and ended the call.

Alexander pondered over the possibility of his brother being innocent when the bedroom door creaked open. An elderly man, his face ashen and frail, emerged, leaning heavily on crutches.

"It's not possible!" Alex snapped, his face contorting with anger. "If he's innocent, why did I fall ill after meeting him? He must have discovered the secret to our family's genetic disease and is trying to eliminate me to secure his inheritance!"

The old man, silent and observant, simply watched him. Had Clarke's father been there, he would have recognized this elder as the one who first brought up the family's genetic disease during 's illness.

"Do you understand what I've been through?" Alexander Higilton clutched his head, tormented. "Every night I'm haunted by the fear of that brain-draining sensation returning. I'm on the verge of a breakdown. His recovery, his actions, they all point to him being behind my suffering!"

The old man's expression shifted subtly as he spoke without emotion, "The situation with the three of you has been preliminarily dismissed as a family genetic disease. The symptoms differ significantly. Your desire to eliminate Clake stems from fear, fear that his cure means your illness could return, threatening your position as the heir."

At these words, a look of anguish contorted Alexander face, revealing a mix of fear, resentment, and a desperate struggle for power within the gilded walls of the luxurious hotel suite.

In the luxurious expanse of the Yves Saint Laurent Hotel's presidential suite, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken conspiracies and a palpable tension. Richly adorned with lavish furnishings, the room seemed to shrink around Alexander and the old man, each piece of opulence underscored by the grim nature of their conversation.

"I'm not wrong, am I?" the old man pressed, his gaze unwavering.

Feeling cornered, Alex could only nod in agreement, his movements hesitant, betraying his inner turmoil.

The old man's tone shifted, suggesting a sinister alternative. "If you're truly concerned about him usurping your place, we could... make him disappear." He spoke softly, almost a whisper, as if the lavish walls themselves could betray their secrets. "Unfair as it may be to the boy, sometimes drastic measures are necessary for the greater good."

Alex's eyes flickered with a brief glimmer of hope at the suggestion, but it was quickly overshadowed by doubt. "It's impossible. If anything happens to my brother, my father will know. He'll never allow me to inherit if he suspects my involvement."

"We don't need to involve the Higilton family directly," the old man countered, shaking his head.

Alex, hesitant, suggested, "Hire mercenaries from outside the city?" His voice was laced with doubt. "But that's risky. The outsiders might not even dare to cross the Higilton family."

The old man scoffed, tapping his cane impatiently on the floor. "Terence City is under the Akio family's influence. They have the means to carry out such a task."

Alec looked up sharply, disbelief etched across his features. "The Akio family? They've just aligned with us through marriage. They would never agree to harm my brother."

"What if they were offered a more lucrative alliance?" the old man proposed, his voice raspy with age but sharp with cunning. "What's a marriage contract to a child compared to securing an alliance with the future head of the Higilton family?"

Chen's face flushed with the weight of the suggestion. "Marry Jessica Akio? But I'm still so young…"

"You'll marry her when you're of age, not now," the old man interjected sharply. "And who says you must honor the marriage? You could expose their treachery in eliminating your brother, then take over the Akio family. Two birds, one stone."

Alex was momentarily speechless, grappling with the machinations laid before him. The idea was enticing yet fraught with moral and ethical dilemmas.

As the heir apparent of the Higilton family, Alexander Higilton had long been the focus of internal family factions, with the old man being one of his most steadfast supporters. This allegiance made his suggestions all the more persuasive to Alexander Higilton.

In the dimly lit, opulent room, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and power, Alexander found himself at a crossroads, weighing the pros and cons of the advice of his trusted elder against the daunting prospect of betrayal and treachery within the gilded cage of his family's legacy.

In the sumptuous presidential suite of the Yves Saint Laurent Hotel, a haven for the affluent and influential of Skyrim City, Alexander wrestled with a decision that could alter the course of his life. The room, adorned with lavish furnishings and bathed in the soft glow of ambient lighting, seemed to echo the gravity of the conversation between him and the old man.

The old man had been more than an advisor to Alex; he had been an architect of his rise within the complex hierarchy of the Higilton family, often engaging in morally ambiguous acts to ensure Alexander's ascension over his siblings.

Now, as the old man's sinister proposition hung in the air, a tumult of emotions played across Alex's face. "Can we really eliminate my brother?" he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hesitation and intrigue. The old man, perceptive and cunning, recognized the flicker of temptation in Alex's eyes.

"He's vulnerable, guarded by just two bodyguards and without any prosthetic enhancements. A simple bullet or a staged accident, and it would be over," the old man spoke with a chilling detachment, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather.

With a heavy heart, Alexander gave his tacit approval. "Then please, Third Grandpa, proceed with the plan."

As Alexander left the suite, a look of satisfaction on his face, the old man emerged fully from the shadows. He approached the window, his fingers slightly parting the curtains. His gaze followed Alexander, who was now escorted by five bodyguards to a floating car, disappearing into the night.

The old man shook his head in a mix of disdain and pity. "Youthful naivety," he muttered to himself, a wry smile on his lips. Just then, he clapped his hands, summoning someone from the shadows.

A man entered, not with the subservience of a subordinate, but with the familiarity of an old friend. The old man's face creased with displeasure. "Is it you? So, you've overheard our conversation?"

"Indeed," the man replied with a sly chuckle. "Your manipulation of Alexander is masterful. To drive brothers to such extremes... it's like a prime-time drama."

The old man snorted dismissively. "Your involvement is necessary. We can't allow Higilton's next heir to remain unchallenged. And as allies, you can't just watch from the sidelines."

"Agreed. We'll involve the Akio family, leave it to our faction," the man responded smoothly, his tone betraying no hint of emotion.

The two exchanged a look of mutual understanding, sealing their dark pact.

Once the man left, the old man's expression turned somber. He realized the precarious nature of their plot. Alex's recklessness had once again given their adversaries leverage. The road to wresting control of the Higilton family was fraught with peril, and this latest scheme was but one more treacherous step in a much longer, more arduous journey.