EPISODE ONE: INHERITANCE OF HATRED
530 Words
The Saint James family didn’t build an empire. They took one—piece by bloody piece.
The Manhattan skyline owed its shape to SaintTech’s iron grip. Their pharmaceuticals sat on every hospital shelf in the country, masked behind glossy campaigns and political donations. Elias Saint James, the only son of Victor Saint James—the ice-veined CEO with a taste for dominance—was bred to inherit it all.
Heir. Strategist. Destroyer in a tailored suit.
And yet, at seventeen, Elias was just a bored, brilliant student forced to endure yet another elite academic retreat—this one held in upstate New York, where young legacy kids of the East Coast’s wealthiest were sent to be polished, not educated.
That’s where he saw her.
Selene Monroe.
She didn’t belong in the background, yet somehow she stood there—quiet, reserved, neck deep in psychology textbooks. She had the kind of beauty you didn’t chase. You watched. You wondered. You remembered.
Elias noticed her the way people notice smoke before they realize they’re in a fire.
She was smart. Reserved. Too serious for seventeen. The kind of girl who didn’t play games because her whole life was one.
When he approached her, she barely looked up.
"Saint James," he said, like a name was a challenge.
"Monroe," she replied, not knowing that name to him was war.
They fell into each other the way sins do—slow, quiet, and addictive.
For months, it was secret notes, stolen touches in the shadows, conversations until 3 a.m. about things most kids didn’t care about—identity, purpose, pressure, legacies. She told him about her father, Lawrence Monroe, and how he was trying to rid the industry of corruption. Elias laughed bitterly. If Victor Saint James was the devil in a suit, Lawrence Monroe was the priest with a dagger behind his back.
The hatred between the families was generational. Lawsuits. Market wars. Government sabotage. There were whispers that Lawrence’s older brother had died in a SaintTech clinical trial gone wrong. Others said it was Victor who’d stolen research and buried Monroe Biolabs in scandal.
None of it mattered to Elias and Selene.
They loved like their parents had never lived.
They touched like tomorrow was borrowed.
They kissed like no one had ever bled for it.
Until one night… it all unraveled.
Victor saw a photo. One grainy security frame from a gala. Elias. Selene. Close. Smiling. Intimate.
The next day, Selene was pulled from school. Elias was slapped with threats, his trust fund frozen for a month. Their phones were hacked. Security tailed them. The message was clear:
This love was war. And no one would leave untouched.
But Elias didn’t care.
He met her anyway—in parking lots, in hidden corners of city libraries, in rented cars on darkened roads. She whispered “I love you” like a rebellion. He said it back like a vow.
Yet underneath their passion, their families were already drawing blood again—corporate espionage, stolen patents, hidden investigations.
The fuse was burning. The explosion inevitable.
They just didn’t know yet that love wouldn’t be enough to save them.
Not yet.
- Writer
