Inheritance Redefined

Chapter Thirty

The buzzer screamed. Viremont had won.

Elara was already racing to the boards when the team poured off the bench, helmets tossed, sticks clattering. Elias skated straight to her, lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulder and pumped a fist to the roaring crowd.

Elara laughed breathlessly, reaching down to high-five teammates as they circled past. Sweat, ice and adrenaline was everywhere.

And then, through the chaos, she caught Thiago’s eyes. He was standing a few feet away, his helmet tucked under his arm, a grin breaking across his face as he looked at her like he'd just scored more than a goal.

Elara's chest tightened, warmth flooding through her as she smiled back. For a moment, the noise of the arena faded, the storm quieted.

There was only her. And him.

---

Elara's mother, Isabella's eyes lit up the moment she saw her daughter.

"Elara! My darling girl! That was… incredible," Isabella said, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Elara's cheeks heated, but she smiled, feeling the warmth she rarely let herself feel in front of others. "Thanks, Mom," she murmured.

Leonidas Drakos, Elara's biological father, shifted awkwardly beside her. The usual imposing presence, the aura of a man used to command, was replaced with a soft, almost shy pride. "I–I just… wow," he stammered out nervously. "You were amazing, Elara. Really. I've… never been prouder."

Alessandro, Elara's stepfather, placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You did absolutely fantastic," he said. "All that effort, all that focus–it shows. I couldn't be prouder even if I tried."

Elara's stomach fluttered, partly because of nerves, partly because of relief and partly happiness. She felt her family's pride wrap around her like a shield. For a moment, she wasn't the daughter of powerful, dangerous families–she was just Elara and they were proud of her.

Alessandro's tone shifted then, pragmatic again. "We should go up. Your brothers are waiting for you in the lounge."

Elara nodded, taking a deep breath. With a final hand squeeze from her mother and a brief, awkward but heartfelt nod from her biological father, she followed Alessandro toward the staircase that led up to the lounge–and the world of strategy, power, and tension that awaited.

---

The lounge above the arena gleamed with marble and glass, a private sanctuary where the five most powerful families in the world gathered like gods after an important battle. The victory still echoed below, but up here, the atmosphere was tighter, sharper. Security lined the walls in discreet black suits, eyes scanning around constantly, reminding everyone that even here, in an exclusive retreat, danger was never far.

Elara stepped in behind Alessandro. The room was filled with faces she knew too well–her Calviero brothers leaning against the wall, dark and dangerous as ever and the Drakos trio, looking like shadows cut from their father's image, stood near each other. Anastasia's family, the Vasilievs stood bold and brash and Thiago's father, the Moreira patriarch, was watching everything with a predator's patience.

The families rarely all gathered in one place. Most of them traveled constantly, managing empires, networks, and secrets across the globe–Italy, Greece, Russia, China, Brazil. Italy was just one piece of the puzzle, a hub for meetings, alliances, and occasionally, showdowns. Yet here they were, in one room, the air thick with legacy. The heirs of the families, meanwhile, maintained their own lives, living in houses, penthouses, and estates scattered across continents–then converging at Viremont Academy, where they trained, studied, and grew under the strictest of rules.

And then there were strangers.

A man and woman stood near the window, dressed in black so sharp it seemed to drink the light. Their expressions were cool and unreadable. Between them leaned a boy– close to Elara's age, maybe sixteen. His hands shoved in his pockets, blazer hanging casually off one shoulder. His posture was loose, but his eyes were not. They were calculating and watchful, as though he was already dissecting everyone and everything in the room.

Alessandro's grip on Elara's shoulder tightened. "Elara, this is Mr. and Mrs. Wei. And this is their son, Kai."

The boy's gaze locked on hers. Not rude, but not warm either, just steady. He gave no bow, no handshake. Instead, his mouth tipped into the faintest of smirks.

Mrs. Wei spoke softly, her tone polite but measured. "Your eyes… one green, one blue.  They are remarkable."

The words made Elara freeze. Her cheeks heated, but the eyes she usually tried to hide were now under careful observation. Even Kai's smirk softened for a fraction of a second.

"Figure skating," Kai said softly, voice smooth and precise. "Not what I expected from a Calviero-Drakos."

Heat rose further to Elara's cheeks. "And what exactly were you expecting?"

Kai's head tilted. There was a pause. "Something louder." His eyes swept her once, sharp but not unkind. "Turns out subtle can be just as dangerous."

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Her brothers reacted instantly and predatory–Elias stepping forward, Raffaele's arms crossing, Theron narrowing his eyes. Protective tension radiated from both families, thick enough to cut. Alessandro's hand pressed lightly on her shoulder again.

Anastasia, sitting slightly behind the crowd, leaned forward, whispering loudly enough for Elara to hear, "Well… he's bold. I like it." Nikolai rolled his eyes but smirked.

Thiago's sharp gaze cut across the room. "He knows what he’s doing," he muttered to himself.

Elias shifted slightly in front of Elara, subtle but firm, while Raffaele's stance grew wider, like a wall. Theron stepped closer, whispering in Greek, "Too bad he's no ordinary kid. He would've been much easier to get rid of."

Then, unexpectedly, Kai smiled–small, almost unnoticeable. "I'll be starting at Viremont next week. Looks like we'll be seeing... much more of each other..."

The room seemed to sharpen around his words. Another heir, another player added to the storm that was already Elara's life.

Alessandro's grip on her shoulder softened, but his eyes never left Kai. "Make no mistake," he murmured just soft enough for her to hear. "He may look calm, but don't underestimate him."

Elara wasn't sure yet if Kai Wei was a friend, a rival, or something far more dangerous.

Around her, the other heirs from the families exchanged small looks that said more than words ever could. In a week, all the heirs would be navigating the academy together. Friendships would form, alliances would be tested, and rivalries would ignite.

And Kai… well, he had just marked himself as someone impossible to ignore.

But Elara had a feeling she was going to find out exactly what kind of player he really was.