C10 - University

I presented the twins with a spectrum of business opportunities, outlining ventures I believed would thrive. Yet, I refrained from exerting influence over their choices, allowing them to forge their own paths. The decisions—whom to partner with, where to allocate resources—were entirely theirs to make.

At the same time, I instructed Cain to conduct comprehensive background checks on the individuals involved. After all, prudence is paramount.

Meanwhile, high school was drawing to a close. The looming threshold of graduation cast a quiet inevitability over my days. Since the dean had granted me exemption from attending classes—requiring my presence only for exams—I adhered to this arrangement without fail.

Despite my absence, I excelled.

Professors praised my intellect, some even going so far as to call me prodigious. It would have been humiliating, after all, to falter on high school-level material.

Reactions among students were mixed. Some admired me. Others resented me. Neither sentiment concerned me.

Lunchtime was my only moment of reprieve—the true highlight of my school day. But once the afternoon stretched into its usual monotony, I gathered my belongings and made my way home.

"Have you considered your university prospects?"

My father's voice carried the weight of expectation, the question arising as we sat together for our evening meal.

With graduation fast approaching, I realized I hadn't yet discussed my university plans with my parents. Truthfully, I hadn't thought much about it.

"As long as they offer linguistic studies," I replied, my words nonchalant, almost dismissive.

Yara's expression brightened.

"Lei, why not consider Grand Lakes University?" she urged, her eyes pleading as though my answer mattered far more to her than to me.

Before I could respond, Haya intervened.

"Let him decide for himself," she chided, shooting her twin a look of reproach. Yet beneath the mild reprimand, I saw the truth—a silent accord between them, a shared wish to keep me close.

A moment of quiet tension settled over the table.

Our mother, though silent, exuded a quiet melancholy that was impossible to ignore.

I lowered my gaze, feigning focus on my plate. "I'm giving it some thought," I replied, deliberately evasive.

My father wasn't so easily deterred.

"Our concern isn't your choice of field, but your commitment to earning a degree," he declared, his voice firm, unwavering. His expression left no room for negotiation.

And with that, the conversation faded into dormancy, tabled—but not forgotten.

A week later, the topic resurfaced—though not in the way I expected.

"Enroll at Arden University in Singapore."

The near-shattering of my teacup marked my surprise.

Seated on my balcony, I had been lost in the evening's quietude, my laptop resting idly before me. That peace was abruptly broken by the screen's sudden glow, revealing the impassive visage of Michael Eclair.

Cain.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Arden has one of the finest linguistic programs in the world," Uncle Michael stated, his tone calm yet authoritative. "Your talent in linguistics would be well-nurtured there."

I leaned back slightly. "I only need a degree, one I can just as easily attain here. Besides, gaining admission to Arden is no simple feat."

Arden University was renowned for its exclusivity, its name synonymous with prestige and academic excellence. A hub for the world's elite—whether by virtue of intellect, wealth, or influence—it was a place where admission was an achievement in itself.

But Michael was unfazed.

"It's time to expand your horizons," he stated plainly. "By isolating yourself, you're forfeiting more than just privilege—you're wasting potential."

I parted my lips to counter, but he cut me off.

"You've indulged in every comfort that wealth affords," he continued. "And yet, you've grown stagnant—adrift. Exposure to peers of your caliber, of your age, is necessary. Perhaps, in this new environment, you'll find something beyond mere obligation—a reason to engage."

His words struck deeper than I anticipated.

For a moment, I remained silent, contemplating the truth laced within them.

Then, with the hint of a wry smile, Michael added, "I'll handle your admission."

A backdoor invitation, as was his way.

I let out a quiet breath, then met his gaze.

"In that case… I'll gratefully accept."

Michael merely nodded before terminating the call, leaving me alone with the weight of my decision.

A new path had been set before me.

Rising from my chair, I stepped away from the balcony. There was one thing left to do—speak to my parents.

Because for the journey ahead, their presence was imperative.