CHAPTER 238: READY TO MOVE [ 2 ]

The room hung in an uneasy silence, a heartbeat stretching longer than it should have.

Arthur stood at the head of the obsidian table, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of a now-faded holographic projection.

The weight of his announcement lingered in the air like smoke after a detonation, tangible, choking, and undeniably real.

No one dared to move at first.

Then Oscar leaned forward, brows furrowing as curiosity edged into his cautious tone. "Wait a second... Varenya? I remember seeing something about that on the news a few months ago."

All eyes immediately turned to him.

He continued, "They said the civil war ended after decades of fighting. A new president was sworn in, a former warlord named Dravik. They claimed he unified the country and began rapid reconstruction. The global press painted him as some kind of war hero... Are you telling me..." Oscar turned back to Arthur, voice rising slightly with disbelief, "...that was your doing?"

Arthur nodded slowly and deliberately. "Dravik was a blade; I was the hand that wielded it."

Oscar blinked in astonishment. "So all this... Varenya stabilizing, rebuilding its economy, opening up to international trade again... that was you?"

"Yes," Arthur replied nonchalantly with a nod.

A collective exhale swept through the room, half disbelief, half awe.

Ashley, ever the provocateur, smirked and leaned back in her chair with arms folded behind her head.

"So what you’re saying is that while the world watched a warlord become president, it was really your little puppet show behind the curtain?" She let out a low whistle. "You’ve outdone yourself this time."

A few groans echoed her antics.

"Seriously, Ashley..." Olivia muttered under her breath.

"Can’t you go five minutes without cracking jokes during a serious meeting?" Eva added sharply.

But Ashley shrugged off their disapproval and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

"What? I’m impressed! I mean, I knew Arthur was scary but installing presidents now? That’s next-level ’don’t mess with my brother’ territory!"

Even Arthur allowed himself a faint breath of amusement before his tone hardened once more.

"I didn’t call you here for compliments," he said sharply, slicing through their banter like a scalpel. "This move isn’t symbolic or ceremonial; this is the next evolution of our family."

He began pacing around the table slowly, locking eyes with each family member as if assessing their resolve.

"Varenya isn’t just land; it’s an opportunity to create something we’ve never had before, a nation built in our image and governed from the shadows, free from meddling hands intent on our downfall."

Julian interjected gravely, "And if someone digs too deep? If international forces realize who truly controls Varenya?"

Arthur paused mid-stride, folding his hands behind his back. "They won’t," he said firmly. "Dravik was installed with precision; his loyalty is woven into his very being. He doesn’t move unless I pull the strings. To the world, he’s a ruthless ex-warlord who miraculously found a conscience. But to us? He’s just a mask, a shield."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, skepticism etched on her face. "But why relocate all of us? Why not continue managing Varenya from here, in Aurelia? Why uproot the entire core?"

A heavy silence settled over the room as everyone nodded in agreement with Charlotte’s point.

Arthur glanced up at the vaulted ceiling of the chamber, as if searching for answers among its shadows.

When he finally spoke again, his voice dropped to a quieter yet deeper tone. "Because Aurelia does not belong to us."

A chill swept through the room.

"What do you mean?" Richard asked, tension creeping into his voice.

Arthur’s gaze darkened. "You know about the Whitmore Family, right?"

"Yeah! They’re the top dogs, the most powerful family in the Aurelian Federation!" Eva chimed in eagerly.

Nods of recognition rippled through the group; they all knew who the Whitmores were.

"Good," Arthur continued, locking eyes with them. "Now what if I told you that it’s actually the Whitmore Family controlling the Aurelian Federation? Would you believe me?"

"Hisss!" Gasps echoed around the room as shock and disbelief spread across their faces.

"Haha... big bro, this must be a joke, right?" Ashley chuckled nervously before scanning everyone’s expressions and adding, "Come on! This has to be a joke!"

They quickly regained their composure, but astonishment lingered in their eyes.

"Yeah! This must be some kind of prank," Edward added with an uneasy laugh. "I mean, Aurelia is massive, how could one family control such a huge country?"

"This is insane! And how would other families allow this to happen?" Oscar chimed in.

"Arthur, are you sure about this?" Even Julian seemed doubtful now; what Arthur had said felt utterly implausible.

"Sure," Emily agreed skeptically. "We all know one of the Whitmores was President of the Federation but saying they control Aurelia? That’s absurd!"

Arthur remained silent for a moment as he surveyed their reactions before shaking his head and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

"Looks like once we move, I’ll have to give you guys a deep lesson about this world we’re living in."

"Let’s not dwell on that now," he urged urgently. "What matters is we need to move fast because we’re being targeted by the Whitmores!"

"What?!" The collective exclamation rang out like thunder in response.

"Yes, you heard me right," Arthur affirmed grimly.

"Have you all noticed the shift?" Arthur continued, his voice steady yet urgent. "We’re facing increased audits, new ’compliance’ regulations, and surprise visits from officials. It’s like a game of chess, but the Whitmores are moving their pieces with precision, subtle changes in tax structures that seem to target only us, the major players."

He turned his gaze to Richard and Julian, intensity etched on his face. "The Whitmores aren’t just keeping an eye on us; they’re tightening the noose, slowly, strategically. If we hesitate too long, they won’t just try to take our businesses, they’ll bury us under a mountain of red tape and whispers."

A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone absorbed the weight of his words.

"But why? We’re just a small family to them," Ashley interjected, confusion flickering in her eyes.

Arthur took a moment before responding. "Because we’re becoming a threat, that’s why."

He inhaled deeply, gathering his thoughts. "But Varenya... Varenya is different. We don’t merely operate there; we are Varenya. The Osborn Family is woven into its very fabric."

Margaret exchanged a quick glance with Philip before asking softly, "So... it’s already prepared?"

Arthur nodded firmly. "The central estate is complete, it’s a hundred times larger than this place! Our private military has secured the perimeter and ensures peace across the region. Trade routes? Under our influence. Currency? Stable. Inflation? Controlled. Infrastructure? Rebuilt! Varenya is no longer the war-torn ruin everyone believes it to be, it’s our future capital."

Billy’s voice cut through the tension: low but resolute. "You really thought this far ahead."

Arthur met his gaze squarely. "I had to."

The silence that followed was charged not with skepticism but reverence, as they began to grasp the full tapestry of Arthur’s vision.

Ashley leaned back in her chair, teasing yet proud as she said, "Well, when you mentioned rebuilding the family... I didn’t realize you meant literally from the ground up."

A small smile crept onto Arthur’s face as he replied, "I always meant it."

He stepped back to his seat at the head of the table and sat down with a quiet exhale.

"I’ve already laid out everything: residences, security details, education systems for our children, supply chains for our businesses, all set in motion."

"And what about the press?" William asked cautiously. "When they eventually find out?"

"We’ll control that narrative," Arthur assured them confidently. "The Osborns are simply ’expanding operations abroad’ that’s all they need to know! By the time they dig deeper, we’ll be unmovable."

Oscar let out a long breath that seemed to release some of their collective tension. "So when do we leave?"

Arthur scanned the room, taking his time, as if each glance held a weight of its own. "In a month or so," he announced, his voice steady but laced with gravity.

He paused for effect before continuing, "You can bring whatever you need. But what you choose to leave behind... well, that’s up to you. You won’t be seeing Aurelia again for quite some time."