The royal palace of the Prescott family was an emblem of grandeur, perched on a hill overlooking a sprawling town that thrived under the legacy of the Prescott empire. As the private jet touched down on the well-kept private runway, the royal town came into full view. The town, rich with affluence, bustled with commerce and an air of exclusivity, catering only to the elite and those fortunate enough to live under the Prescott banner.
The palace itself was a magnificent structure, with high towers and expansive gardens that bloomed in a riot of colors. The stone walls were centuries old, yet they stood as pristine as ever, holding secrets, power, and wealth. The gates to the palace were intricately designed, guarded by loyal soldiers, while the long driveway led to a main entrance that opened into grand halls adorned with the finest of art, gold, and marble. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and the echo of footsteps in the wide hallways only hinted at the power that resided within.
The royal palace of the Prescotts was a sight that could steal anyone's breath.
the palace stood tall like a crown watching over its people. The white stone walls sparkled under the sunlight, and the golden rooftops gleamed as if kissed by the heavens themselves. Wide gardens stretched out in every direction, blooming with roses, tulips, and rare flowers only found in faraway lands. Water fountains danced in the breeze, and royal guards lined the pathways, dressed in sharp black and gold uniforms.
It wasn't just beautiful—it was powerful. Every part of the palace whispered wealth, class, and legacy.
This palace didn't just belong to anyone. It was the home of Richard Prescott, father of Kelvin Prescott, and the ruler of the Prescott empire.
Richard had inherited the palace from his grandfather, Lord Elias Prescott, who built it over sixty years ago. Back then, it was just a large mansion. But Elias had dreams bigger than walls. He turned the mansion into a palace, the town into a royal district, and the family name into one that opened every door.
When Richard took over the family business, he didn't let the name rest. He grew the Prescott empire beyond borders. Luxury hotels, private banks, fashion lines, aircraft companies, his name was everywhere. People didn't just respect him, they feared him. A phone call from Richard Prescott could shake an entire boardroom. A frown from him could stop a deal.
Now, though Richard had grown older, his influence still reached far. The king without a crown, some called him.
Inside the palace, every detail was touched by his legacy. From the thick velvet curtains to the marble floors, the golden chandeliers to the grand staircases, everything screamed power, elegance, and control.
And it was within these very walls that the next generation of Prescotts—Kelvin, Jane, Donovan, and Avery—would continue the legacy.
Richard Prescott hadn't always believed in love.
Back when he was a much younger man, freshly handed the throne of the Prescott empire by his father, he had no time for feelings. His life was about business, expansion, power, and keeping the Prescott name at the top. He was sharp, serious, and always two steps ahead of everyone. No one crossed Richard and came out smiling. His father Lord Elias Prescott knew the kind of son he had raised. A good man, but a hard one.
So when it was time for Richard to marry, Lord Elias chose the woman himself. Her name was Clarissa. She came from a respected family, known for grace, charity, and quiet strength. Unlike Richard, Clarissa didn't care for power or attention. She preferred the quiet of a garden, the warmth of a child's laugh, or the joy of writing in her diary. She was soft-spoken, gentle, and had the kind of kindness that could melt the sharpest blade.
When they first met, Richard didn't know what to do with her. She smiled too easily. She forgave too quickly. She listened more than she spoke. And even when he tried to keep her at a distance, Clarissa simply stayed… calm, patient, and kind. It annoyed him at first. Then, it confused him. And slowly, without realizing it, it softened him.
Richard had always been the one giving orders, but with Clarissa, he found himself wanting to protect, not control. She would wait for him late into the night when he returned from meetings, bringing him tea without a word. She spoke to the palace staff with respect, learning each of their names and stories. She turned cold halls into warm rooms, adding touches of love that even Richard couldn't ignore.
In time, love found its way in.
Not the fast, fiery kind, but something deeper. A quiet, steady love that grew with every shared glance and every act of understanding. Clarissa never tried to change him. And in return, Richard found himself changing.
They became the balance each other never knew they needed, power and peace, fire and calm, stone and sunlight. Together, they raised their four children with different pieces of themselves. And though Richard remained the fierce head of the Prescott name, Clarissa was the gentle heart of the palace. To the outside world, they were an unmatched pair.
But within the palace walls… they were simply Richard and Clarissa. Husband and wife. King and queen. Opposites, yes, but perfectly so.
Each of Richard Prescott's children wasn't just born into luxury. They were trained for it, molded for responsibility, and handed pieces of the empire to command like monarchs of their own empires.
Jane Prescott – The Firstborn & The Empire's Backbone
Jane, the eldest and most grounded of the four, was a mother of two and a respected figure in the medical world. Married to a top-tier neurosurgeon, she balanced family and empire with a steel composure that kept the Prescott name reputable in public health and medical affairs.
She handled Prescott Health Systems, a massive network of private hospitals, pharmaceutical holdings, elite rehab centers, fertility clinics, and medical research foundations. If someone was sick, wealthy, and desperate, they came to Jane's world. She was the quiet storm of the family, running a billion-dollar arm of the empire with the precision of a scalpel.
Donovan Prescott – The Wild Prince of Pleasure
Donovan was the third child, and by far the most reckless. Handsome, fast-living, and too charming for his own good, Donovan had a new face on his arm every weekend, and none of them stayed past morning.
But behind the charm was a golden portfolio. He ran Prescott Leisure Group, controlling the family's hospitality empire: a chain of five-star hotels, luxury resorts, exclusive private islands, nightlife chains in major cities, casinos, cruise lines, celebrity-studded events, and even a premium jet concierge service.
He turned pleasure into profit. And though his lifestyle raised eyebrows, his division brought in money faster than anyone else, fueling his champagne life on a platinum card he never had to swipe.
Avery Prescott – The Princess of Elegance & Manipulation
Avery was the youngest and the most underestimated, at least by those who didn't know better. With a face that could stop a room and a voice that dripped honey, she moved like silk but stung like fire.
Her weapon was influence.
She controlled Prescott Luxe & Aesthetics, the fashion, beauty, and lifestyle division of the empire. That included global high-end fashion houses, modeling agencies, luxury skincare brands, elite salons, fragrance lines, celebrity endorsement contracts, and even a secret stake in multiple influencer empires.
When it came to beauty, Avery owned it. The world's most powerful faces and bodies walked through her doors, and never left the same. People underestimated her, but she always got what she wanted. Always.
Kelvin Prescott – The Crowned Heir of Power & Legacy
And then there was Kelvin.
Second-born. The empire's real future. The one their father called "The Weapon." Kelvin didn't care for glamor or noise. He was power in silence.
He held the crown jewel of the family business: Prescott Core Holdings, which controlled their real estate empire, diamond and gold mining operations, land ownership, oil shares, high-level mergers, political connections, investment banking, and legal dominance. Kelvin was the one who met with world leaders behind closed doors. The one who signed billion-dollar mergers with a nod. The one whose deals determined currencies and crushed companies.
He didn't play in the empire—he ran it. While the others fought for space in the spotlight, Kelvin was the spotlight. Every empire had its sword. He was theirs.
Despite their fine smiles and weekly toasts, the Prescott children weren't as united as they appeared. Not truly.
Jane may have been the firstborn, but she'd always resented being passed over for leadership just because she was a woman. She respected Kelvin. Loved him even. But in quiet corners of her heart, she questioned:
"Would things be different if I were a man?"
Donovan envied the control Kelvin had, not just of the empire, but the respect. No matter how successful Donovan's hospitality business became, no one looked at him like they did his brother. He's the head, Donovan thought bitterly. And I'm the entertainment.
Avery? She never wanted the throne. Or so she said. But Avery had her ways. Her influence. Her beauty. Her network. And influence could become power—if handled right. Beneath the laughter, the elegant wine clinks, and the family dinners was a game of quiet one-ups.
They didn't need to fight each other. They just had to wait for Kelvin to slip.
.......
THE FORGOTTEN TWIN – Uncle Martin Prescott
Martin Prescott was born into royalty, but from the very moment he took his first breath, his destiny was already decided for him. He came into the world just six minutes after his twin brother, Richard.
Six minutes.
That was all it took to change the course of his life forever. Richard was named the heir, the Crown Prince.
Martin? The "support." The extra.
From their childhood, the difference in how they were treated was subtle… but real. Richard got the best tutors. Martin got the leftovers. Richard led the parades. Martin walked behind. Richard's choices were law. Martin's were "suggestions."
Their father, King Elias Prescott, never meant to be cruel. But to him, royalty was about lineage, and lineage didn't bend for second sons, even if they looked exactly the same. So Martin grew up in Richard's shadow. Always second. Always almost.
At first, he tried to compete. He studied harder, worked longer hours, smiled wider. But no matter what he did, Richard was always the one with the crown in waiting. Eventually, Martin stopped trying to be loved by the crown. Instead, he started learning how to move without it.
He became sharp. Strategic. He learned how to gain loyalty, not through power, but through deals. Promises. Leverage. When the empire began expanding globally, Martin found his opportunity.
He pitched the idea of international trade arms, offering to handle the dirty work: shipping, customs, freight, licensing, global negotiations. It was hard, messy work.
But it made money. Big money. And Martin made sure his name was on every deal.
Soon enough, Prescott Global Trade was born, and Martin had control of the family's shipping lines, cross-border logistics, oil transport, and cargo management. He may not have had a crown, but he had power, and he never let the royal family forget it.
But power wasn't enough. He wanted what was never given to him: the throne.
Not directly—but through legacy. His children—Lucian, Isla, and Ethan were his silent war. He raised them close to Richard's kids, but not too close.
He taught them to smile at family dinners but never trust the faces at the table. He told them: "One day, the crown will slip. When it does, you'll be ready to catch it."
Even as he aged, Martin kept his bitterness buried beneath polished smiles. But everyone who knew him could feel it. He wasn't just a twin. He was a shadow waiting for daylight.
Publicly, he smiled. He called his brother "Your Highness" and toasted to the Prescott legacy. But privately, behind closed doors, Martin never stopped trying to tilt the game in his favor.
He didn't want to serve the throne. He wanted to be the throne.
Martin's three children had grown up around their cousins. They shared holidays, attended royal events, smiled for the same press cameras. But under the surface, they were trained to wait.
Lucian, the eldest, was composed and brilliant, with a quiet hunger for control that mirrored Kelvin's.
Isla was seductive and strategic, often using her friendship with Avery to gather information. Ethan, the youngest, had a wild streak like Donovan, but with a far sharper tongue.
There was no open feud. No insults or scandals.
Not yet.
But everyone in the family knew, if the throne ever slipped, even just a little, Martin's children would be ready to pounce. It was a family of elegance, yes.
But underneath all the pearls and power…
It was a silent war.
......…
The private jet came to a smooth halt on the royal runway, its sleek black body reflecting the soft golden light of Velmora's afternoon sun. The engines quieted to a hush, and for a moment, there was stillness like the calm before a storm.
Then the doors slid open.
Kelvin Prescott stepped out first.
Tall, sharp-jawed, and dressed in a dark tailored suit that made him look every inch the king he was raised to be. His presence was icy, his expression unreadable as he stared across the wide open space of the Kingdom of Velmora. The breeze tugged at his coat, but he didn't flinch. His eyes scanned the path ahead straight toward the palace gates in the distance.
Behind him came the twins, Aiden and Elena.They wore matching navy coats, their little boots clicking softly against the metal steps as they followed their father. Kelvin reached out his hand for Elena as they descended, a rare soft gesture only the children were allowed to see.
Adrian, his right-hand man, followed closely, adjusting his earpiece and scanning the grounds for movement. Beside him, James, the ever-loyal driver and part-time bodyguard, opened the back door of the black SUV waiting at the foot of the runway.
Adrian: Sir, they've already started the meeting.
Kelvin's lips curled slightly, more in annoyance than surprise.
Kelvin: Of course they did.
He helped the children into the car, giving Adrian a firm nod and smoothing Elena's hair back gently before settling in himself. The car doors shut with a final thump, and the SUV rolled forward along the private stone-paved path that led straight to the palace.
As they drove, the grandeur of the Prescott estate unfolded before them, massive green lawns, guards standing like statues, and water fountains that sparkled like glass under the sun. It was a place meant to impress, to remind everyone who ruled this part of the world. Kelvin stared out the window, saying nothing.
....,,,,,.
Inside the palace, the air was warmer, filled with the low hum of voices and clinking glasses. In the grand living room,one of many in the massive estate, three of the four Prescott siblings sat in a formal meeting with their father, Richard along side the royal guards and maidens all around to tend to their needs. The air was filled with polite tension, competitive smiles, and subtle digs wrapped in soft tones.
Richard Prescott, seated like a king in his deep mahogany armchair, was mid-laugh when the large doors creaked open.
Richard: ...and that's when I told him, if he couldn't handle the pressure, he should stick to running coffee shops! ~ Richard laughed heartily, his voice booming across the hall.
But the laughter died almost immediately.
The room turned as one.
Kelvin stood at the entrance, coat still on, gloves in hand, eyes cold as winter.
Kelvin: I see the party started without me.
Richard's amusement froze. "Kelvin."
Jane: Well…well….well, if it's isn't the prodigal son
Donovan gave a lazy smirk.
Donovan: Traffic, or did you just enjoy making an entrance?
Kelvin: You think I care about making an entrance?
He stepped into the room, the sound of his shoes echoing on the marble floor as Adrian and James trailed behind silently. Kelvin's sharp gaze swept over his siblings, then settled on his father.
Kelvin: Next time you want to start a meeting without me, be sure it's a meeting worth something.
The room tensed. Richard leaned back in his chair, folding his hands slowly.
Richard: Careful, son. Even kings answer to someone.
Kelvin: And I answer only when I want to.
Without waiting for permission, he took his seat at the head of the glass table, unbuttoning his coat with quiet authority. Adrian stood behind him, ready, while James stepped out with a polite bow, leaving the family to their unfinished business.
Kelvin: Let's not waste more time, We all know why we're here.
And just like that, the room shifted.
The prince had arrived and the battle for the throne had truly begun.
The silence in the room lingered long after Kelvin took his seat. The atmosphere was tight, so tight it could've snapped with a single word. His siblings exchanged glances, some amused, some tense. Richard Prescott leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
Then, the sound of soft heels echoed down the marble staircase. All heads turned.
Clarissa Prescott entered the grand room with the grace of a queen, but the warmth of a mother. Her smile was gentle, her presence like sunlight filtering into a cold, stormy day. Dressed in a soft lavender gown and pearls, she walked toward the group as if she hadn't just stepped into a battlefield of pride and power.
Clarissa: Enough with the long faces,My babies just arrived.
Kelvin stood as she approached, the only person who could make him do so without asking. Clarissa reached up, cupping his cheek for a moment, her eyes scanning his tired face.
Clarissa: You look thinner,Don't tell me you've been skipping meals again.
Kelvin: sigh! You know me.
Clarissa:Unfortunately, ~ she chuckled, then turned as two smaller figures stepped into the room.
Clarissa: Elena! Aiden! ~Clarissa opened her arms.
Elena didn't hesitate. The little girl broke into a run, her coat flapping behind her as she threw herself into her grandmother's arms.
Elena: Grandma! ~ she squealed, burying her face in Clarissa's shoulder.
Clarissa: Oh, my sweet girl, You've grown since the last time I saw you!
Elena giggled, clutching her like a tiny koala.
Elena: I missed you!
Clarissa placed a soft kiss on her cheek and gave her a squeeze before looking over at the boy standing beside Kelvin.
Clarissa: Aiden
The boy didn't run. He gave a polite nod, hands still tucked into his coat pockets.
Aiden: Hi, Grandma.
Clarissa: Still as serious as your father, I see.
Aiden: Not much to smile about in rooms like this.
The adults laughed quietly, just enough to ease the
Richard: He's definitely yours, Kelvin.
Jane: They're getting so big. I feel old.
Donovan: You are old!
Jane: Shut up!
Even Avery, who had stayed quiet during the earlier exchange, stepped forward to ruffle Elena's curls.
Avery: She looks like you, Kelvin… but happier.
Kelvin glanced at Elena and then looked away, but Clarissa caught that rare softness in his expression. It was gone as quickly as it came.
Clarissa: Alright, enough teasing,They've been flying for hours. Come upstairs. Let's get you lads settled.
She looked to the maids nearby. "Have their rooms prepared. The lavender ones with the balcony view for the children. Kelvin will stay in the East Wing as usual."
The maids nodded and moved quickly, bowing as they led the twins to their rooms.
Richard: Well now they're out of the way, let the game begin…..Kelvin, YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED!!!