Chapter 2: Whispers of the Past

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the grand windows of the Frianmes estate, casting a warm glow on the ancient portraits that lined the walls. The mansion, though elegant and pristine, was steeped in a history that seemed to whisper through its halls. Lankes, the old patriarch, sat by the fireplace in the library, his thoughts lingering on the previous day's conversation with his grandchildren. Their wide-eyed wonder had stirred something deep within him—memories long buried, secrets long kept.

As he sipped his morning tea, the children burst into the room, just as lively as the day before. "Grandpa, Grandpa!" they chorused, their voices echoing off the polished wood. "You promised to finish the story today!"

Lankes chuckled softly, setting his cup down. "I see you haven't forgotten. Alright, come sit by the fire, and I'll tell you more."

The children scrambled onto the plush rugs, eyes bright with anticipation. Lankes leaned forward in his chair, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Where did we leave off?" he asked, though he knew well enough.

"The family lost everything because they wouldn't give away their secret!" one of the boys reminded, his tone full of indignation.

"Ah, yes," Lankes nodded. "Woodistine Limited was no more, and the Frianmes family was left in ruins. But..." He paused for effect, his eyes sweeping over the eager faces before him. "That wasn't the end of the story."

The children leaned in closer, hanging on his every word.

"After the betrayal, Frances and Liama—your great-grandparents—were devastated. They had built their lives on their company, and to see it fall apart so quickly broke them. But they refused to give up. In the years that followed, they worked in secret, away from the prying eyes of rivals and even their own family."

"What were they doing?" a girl asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

"They were trying to rebuild, of course," Lankes said. "Frances, ever the innovator, was determined to create something even better than what they had before. He spent years perfecting the family's secret method, ensuring that no one—no matter how desperate—could ever replicate their success. And Liama... well, she was the heart of it all. She kept the family together when everything else was falling apart."

"But how did they survive?" asked another boy, frowning. "If they lost everything, how did they keep going?"

Lankes smiled at the question. "Survival was not easy. They had to sell what little they had left. They moved far from the city, away from the life they once knew. But in that quiet, away from the world's judgment, they found something more valuable than wealth—resilience. They learned that their family name, Frianmes, was worth more than any fortune or company."

The children sat in awe, the weight of the story settling on their young shoulders.

"Did they ever make a new company?" one of the girls asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lankes smiled softly, glancing out the window toward the distant hills. "That, my dear, is another story. But remember this—what was lost was not forgotten. The Frianmes may have fallen, but their legacy lives on, and so does the secret."

Before the children could press further, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. The butler appeared at the doorway, his presence as quiet as ever. "Master Lankes, there is a visitor. He's waiting for you in the study."

Lankes's expression shifted, a shadow crossing his face for just a moment. He nodded, rising from his chair. "Children, we'll continue this later. For now, go play outside. I have some business to attend to."

The children protested, but a single glance from Lankes quieted them. As they reluctantly left the library, Lankes walked slowly toward the study, his mind heavy with thoughts of the past. The visitor would be waiting, and Lankes knew that what came next might not be as pleasant as the stories he told his grandchildren.

The door to the study creaked open, and there, seated in a chair by the window, was a man dressed in a sharp suit. His presence felt out of place in the old, cozy room.

"Lankes," the man said, his voice smooth and cold. "It's been a long time."

Lankes's heart tightened. He knew this man well—too well. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone far less friendly than it had been with the children.

The man smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I've come to discuss the secret. It's time for the Frianmes family to make a decision."

Lankes said nothing, but his grip tightened on the cane in his hand. The past, it seemed, wasn't done with him yet.