Adrian Blackwood sat in his sleek penthouse office, the skyline of the bustling city stretching before him. At just 29, he had already built a reputation as a shrewd businessman. The Blackwood name was synonymous with power and wealth, and Adrian carried it with an air of effortless authority. His office, a blend of modern minimalism and quiet luxury, mirrored his personality precise, controlled, and uncompromising.
Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his sharp green eyes scanned the financial reports on his tablet. His jaw tightened as he reviewed the numbers. Everything was running smoothly, as expected. Adrian didn’t tolerate inefficiency. His employees knew better than to cross him; his icy demeanor and perfectionist standards demanded excellence.
But his focus was interrupted by the soft buzz of his phone. A call from him. His father.
Adrian sighed, leaning back in his leather chair. He respected his father, but their conversations were rarely casual. They always came with expectations, responsibilities, and obligations that weighed heavily on his shoulders.
He picked up the call, his tone brisk. “Father.”
“Adrian,” came the familiar voice, deep and commanding, much like Adrian’s own. “I need you to take care of something for me.”
Adrian raised a brow, already wary. “What kind of ‘something’?”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. “It’s about Kingston University.”
Adrian frowned. The university was one of the many institutions owned by the Blackwood family, known for its prestige and exclusivity. “What about it?”
“I’ve been hearing… troubling reports,” his father admitted. “Bullying among students, faculty politics, and a general decline in discipline. It’s tarnishing the Blackwood name. I want you to go there and sort it out.”
Adrian leaned forward, his interest piqued. “You want me to oversee the university’s management?”
“No.” His father’s tone turned sharp. “You’ll go as a professor. An outsider. Blend in with the staff and students. See what’s really going on. Handle it discreetly.”
Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You want me to babysit entitled brats and petty academics?”
“It’s not a request, Adrian,” his father replied firmly. “You’re more than capable. Besides, this will be a good opportunity for you to step out of your comfort zone. The board needs to see that you’re more than just a businessman. You’re a Blackwood.”
Adrian clenched his jaw, the weight of his father’s expectations pressing down on him. “Fine,” he said curtly. “I’ll do it.”
“Good. I’ve already made the arrangements. You’ll be teaching literature. Consider it a challenge.”
Adrian Blackwood stood by the vast window of his penthouse office, overlooking the sprawling city below. The skyline glittered with the lights of a million lives, but his focus was elsewhere. The weight of his empire rested on his shoulders, and Adrian carried it with an iron will and a reputation for ruthless efficiency.
Behind him, his assistant, Mr. Harvey Langston, waited with a tablet in hand, detailing the latest reports on Blackwood Industries. Adrian’s empire spanned industries-real estate, tech, and luxury goods-but his mind today wasn’t on quarterly earnings or market expansions. Instead, it lingered on something more personal: Kingston University, the institution named after his late mother, Eleanor Kingston.
“Sir,” Harvey spoke carefully, breaking the silence. “About your position at Kingston University. The Director would be honored to meet you and formally welcome you as their newest professor. Shall I arrange a call to confirm your start date?”
Adrian turned, his sharp gray eyes slicing through Harvey’s suggestion. “No.” His voice was cool, clipped, and final. “I’ll meet them in person, and not as the Blackwood heir. Let them judge me by my work, not my name.”
Harvey hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “But, sir, as the son of the university’s board founder, they might-”
“I said no,” Adrian cut in, his tone leaving no room for debate. He walked to his desk, the polished ebony surface reflecting his commanding presence. “Kingston doesn’t belong to the Blackwoods. It belongs to my mother’s legacy. The day after tomorrow, I will step into that university as Professor Adrian Blackwood, nothing more.”
The assistant’s mouth opened slightly, but he quickly closed it. This wasn’t a request; it was a decree.
Adrian’s mother had founded the university years ago, pouring her heart and soul into creating a space for excellence and opportunity. She had insisted on naming it after her family, the Kingstons, to honor the lineage she cherished. Though she was no longer alive, Adrian had always felt her presence in the institution’s towering walls and pristine lecture halls.
“Understood, sir,” Harvey relented, nodding and typing something into his tablet.
“Good.” Adrian dismissed the topic with a curt wave of his hand.
—
Later that evening, Adrian returned to his private estate. The sprawling mansion, filled with opulent decor and priceless art, felt like a hollow shell compared to his memories of his mother’s warm smile and her unyielding belief in him. Despite the wealth and power he had amassed, Eleanor’s absence left a void nothing could fill.
As he poured himself a glass of scotch in his study, Adrian’s mind drifted to the challenges ahead. Teaching at Kingston University wasn’t just a formality for him. It was a way to connect with his mother’s dream, to uphold the standards she had set, and to carve his own path in her legacy.
He leaned back in his leather chair, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face. The university might expect the son of the great Blackwood dynasty to come in with pomp and privilege, but Adrian had no intention of giving them what they anticipated. He would earn his place on merit alone, no matter how much it challenged him.
Adrian’s grip tightened on his glass as he made a silent promise: Kingston University would not see the businessman or the heir. It would see a professor dedicated to excellence, just like his mother would have wanted.