True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

The Bryant family lived in the Silver Lake Manor, in the heart of Emerald Bay and the epitome of upscale living. Despite its prime real estate, the manor boasted an astounding 80% greenery. complete with a lake and elaborately designed rock gardens. 

The security was tight, manned by ex–special forces, and viewing or purchasing a property required financial vetting, for this was where the top of Emerald Bay society resided.- 

Winnie had heard a lot about this place. It had been Barton’s dream to purchase a house there one day. Living in Silver Lake Manor meant rubbing shoulders with the elite and being a part of the upper crust. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

The Maybach motorcade glided unobstructed through the gate, across the expansive lawns, and pulled up before a majestic four–story house. 

Horace stepped out with Winnie while Drake remained seated. It wasn’t proper to intrude on a family reunion, no matter how close one might be. It was good manners. 

With a casual wave, Horace watched as the twelve Maybachs reignited their engines and drove deeper into the manor. 

“The Patterson family lives just ahead. I’ll formally introduce you later,” Horace explained. leading Winnie inside. 

The modern–styled villa exuded luxury from every corner. They passed through the garden and entered the grand doorway. Skirting the foyer, they entered the living room, where Winnie saw a sea of faces from the Bryant family. 

During the ride, Horace had given her a brief rundown. 

As Winnie surmised, the Bryant family was undoubtedly one of the four prestigious families in Emerald Bay. The family was extensive, with three sons and one daughter, each with their own families. 

The patriarch, Bacchus Bryant, had retired due to health reasons the year before, leaving the Bright Group in the capable hands of the eldest son, Clifford Bryant. 

The second son, Middleton Bryant, a former national heartthrob and singer, had founded his own entertainment company and was a top mogul in the industry. 

The third son. Terrell Bryant, was the vice president at the Bright Group, overseeing several key industries. 

The only daughter, Kate Bryant, a self–made powerhouse, had built an international fashion brand with significant clout in the industry. 

As for the younger generation, the Bryant family was rich in male heirs except for the youngest daughter from the second branch and Amber, the matriarch Louisa’s niece, fostered by the Bryant family. 

It seemed the entire Bryant family was almost there.. 

As Horace and Winnie entered, every head turned, their gazes ranging from scrutinizing to curious, dismissive to subtly displeased. 

“Grandpa,” Horace greeted Bacchus seated at the center of the sofa, introducing Winnie in the same breath, “this is Winnie.” 

He then gestured to Winnie. “Come meet Grandpa.” 

Winnie observed the central figure, smiling, with a high brow and deep–set eyes, a man used to being in command. 

She wasn’t particularly adept at face reading, but despite the elderly man’s jovial eyes, his prominent brow ridge and high, broad forehead suggested a deep–set assertiveness. His eyes were slightly sunken, indicating a strong individualistic streak. 

In simpler terms, this was a man who was accustomed to calling the shots. 

“Grandpa,” Winnie greeted respectfully. 

Bacchus nodded warmly. “Good to have you back. From now on, you’re the darling of the Bryant family. No one will dare cross you.” 

Horace then directed her to Clifford, seated beside Bacchus. “And this is Dad.” 

Winnie’s gaze shifted to Clifford. Unlike the kind grandfather, Clifford projected an air of stoic elegance, his sharp features revealing a youthful handsomeness. 

“Dad,” Winnie softly greeted. 

Clifford’s lips tensed slightly at the address, and after a moment’s silence, he responded with a terse, “Hmm.” 

Horace proceeded to introduce her to other family elders. 

Winnie took it all in. Nearly the entire Bryant family was present except for the grandmother in the sanatorium and another cousin. 

Among them, there was no sign of her mother. Horace had told her that after Winnie had been kidnapped, their mother went after the kidnapper alone and tragically vanished at sea. Her body never recovered. 

Sensing Winnie’s silence, Leonie, Middleton’s wife, embraced her arm with a gesture of tenderness. 

“You must be exhausted from the trip, Winnie. I’ve had your room prepared. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like,” Leonie said. 

Bacchus was traditional, believing in keeping the family under one roof. Apart from the daughter, who was married off, all branches resided in the manor. 

Leonie, appeared in her forties, with a figure and complexion well–cared for, the very image of a 

lady of stature. 

Yet, her supposed concern clashed with her vanity and paranoia, making Winnie feel out of place. 

Winnie gently pulled away, ready to express her thanks, when suddenly a young boy, about thirteen or fourteen, blurted out. “Aunt Leonie, could you please arrange another room for her? The one she’s using used to be Amber’s doll room, and now, there’s no place for all of Amber’s dolls.” 

The teenager speaking was Springer Bryant, the youngest son of the third branch of the Bryant family and undoubtedly the most restless among all. 

Sure enough, his words prompted a few strained expressions amongst those gathered in the living room. 

Terrell Bryant was quick to scowl. “What nonsense are you spouting, kid? Mind your own business.” 

“Why are you snapping at me? I didn’t say anything wrong.” Springer retorted, his neck stiff with defiance. “We have so many unused rooms in this house, and she just barges in and takes over Amber’s doll room. Why should she?” 

Amid the younger family members sat a young lady who had risen to her feet, her face a mixture of beauty and remorse. 

“Stop it, Springer,” she said softly. 

That was Amber in question. She was the niece of Louisa Bryant, brought into the family from 

her mother’s side after the mysterious disappearance of Winnie in an attempt to comfort 

Clifford and balance the male–dominated Bryant family. Louisa had adopted Amber when she was three years old, and since then, she had grown up in the Bryant family. 

Turning to Winnie, Amber continued with a gentle voice, “Don’t mind him, Winnie. Springer means no harm. He can’t stand to see me upset. The room is yours now, and I’m fine with it.” 

She acted all big–hearted, but every word was laced with ‘look at what I’ve given up‘ – a classic Kathryn move. 

Winnie pondered in silence. Was it her peculiar aura that always attracted these bitches? 

Amber then feigned a stern look at Springer. “Apologize right now, Springer. Winnie is your cousin, after all.” 

“Pfft,” the boy scoffed dismissively under his breath. “Cousin? She’s not my cousin.” 

A loud “clang” echoed as someone’s cup hit the marble tabletop hard, bringing a sudden 

to the room.