When aristocratic Eddie inherits the family estate, he discovers that it's home to an enormous weed empire - and its proprietors aren't going anywhere.
Will he continue his father's business or will he leave. How would his family react, will he be...
Edward stepped out of the car, his eyes narrowing as he took in the towering estate. The mansion loomed over him like a silent sentinel, its dark stone façade casting long shadows in the fading light. The operatic music from his car still lingered in his ears, matching the tension that built in his chest.
Mr. Lawrence, stepped forward, opening the car door with a bow.
"Welcome home, sir," he said, his voice steady and formal.
Edward gave a small nod, his face betraying little of the unease gnawing at him. "Did you miss me, Mr. Lawrence?"
"Terribly, sir," the driver replied with the faintest hint of a smile.
As Edward crossed the threshold, the grand hall greeted him with its cold, familiar grandeur. The scent of polished wood and old books filled the air, mingling with something heavier—an unspoken dread that clung to the walls. Operatic music continued to swirl in his mind, amplifying the sense of unease that had gripped him ever since he received the call.
Freddy was the first to greet him. His older brother stood by the door, his arms wide in a gesture that didn't quite reach his eyes. Freddy's grin was more of a grimace, forced and hollow.
"Eddie. Edwina, Eduardo, you made it," Freddy called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. He stepped forward, pulling Edward into an embrace that felt more like an obligation than affection. "Come to me."
Edward stiffened as Freddy patted his back, the exaggerated enthusiasm making him feel even more distant from his brother. "Well done, darling boy. Hug it out. There we go," Freddy grunted as he stepped back. "Good to see you."
Edward forced a tight smile, his gaze flickering toward the grand staircase that led to their father's room. "How is he?"
Freddy's face fell, and for a moment, the mask of cheer faltered. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. "Shit, mate, to be honest. His goose is... well and truly cooked." Freddy paused, his voice quieter now. "Doc says tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest."
Edward swallowed hard, nodding as the weight of Freddy's words settled over him. "Right." He glanced toward the second floor, the silence of the house suddenly deafening. "And you? How are you holding up?"
