C5 - A year of motion and growth

After hitting the jackpot, life became a whirlwind of movement—decisions made, projects launched, and ambitions set in motion.

My parents, never ones to squander an opportunity, swiftly expanded their horizons. They acquired hectares upon hectares of land, transforming vast tracts into rice fields, coconut groves, and fruit orchards. What were once empty, idle properties soon flourished into ranches and farms, breathing life into the local economy. Jobs sprouted alongside the crops, offering livelihoods to families who had long struggled.

Prosperity didn't just touch us—it rippled outward.

With the help of our extended family, business blossomed overnight. But while my parents were at the helm, we, the children, remained untethered from direct responsibilities. Instead, I focused on my own endeavors—cultivating connections, expanding my network, and honing the instincts that would shape my future.

As another year passed, my understanding of investments sharpened. But alongside my financial education, I turned my attention inward.

Elegance. Grace. These were qualities that seemed innate to those raised in old aristocratic Asian-European families—those who moved through the world with an air of effortless refinement.

I envied it. No, more than that—I aspired to it.

Michael Éclair, with his unshakable composure and quiet dominance, embodied everything I aimed to master. Compared to him, I was still rough around the edges.

Genetics had been kind to me. I had inherited my mother's striking features—high cheekbones, delicate structure, and her unique sets of eyes But understanding fashion? That was another battle entirely.

Style had never been my forte. My philosophy revolved around "neat and comfortable." Anything beyond that felt needlessly complicated.

Given my family's conservative nature, I avoided the bold and revealing. Instead, I gravitated toward loose T-shirts, flowing fabrics, and well-fitted trousers. Simple, clean, functional. My tall stature lent me an air of quiet confidence, a presence that leaned toward dapper rather than extravagant.

Fashion trends shifted like waves, but I stood firmly ashore. 

Once, I had a fondness for physical activity—particularly yoga. Weightlifting and high-intensity workouts held little appeal. But the quiet control and graceful discipline of yoga? That, I could appreciate.

With that in mind, I hired a yoga instructor.

Every morning, between seven and nine, our garden transformed.

At first, it was just me and my instructor—breathing in rhythm, movements fluid and measured. But then, my mother joined in. My father, ever the observer, grew curious.

Soon, my sisters followed. One by one, our family joined the routine.

Then, my paternal cousins.

Then, my mother's friends.

And before I knew it, our garden buzzed with life.

To amplify the energy, I brought in a Zumba instructor for the ladies—a touch of vibrancy, a spark of joy. The quiet morning ritual of yoga soon gave way to laughter, movement, and music.

What began as a solitary pursuit had transformed into a communal experience.

And in that chaos of motion, I found balance.