Standing at the frosted glass door that led to the garden, Doleia could already make out the figure outside. Though he was in his seventies and still hadn't officially retired, the old man kept himself in remarkable shape. His posture was upright, and his hair, surprisingly thick for his age, still held a healthy sheen.
She took a deep breath to steady herself. She had already rehearsed what to say. This time, she couldn't afford to mess it up.
With that, she pushed the door open.
"Grandpa—!" she called out.
The man stopped mid-swing of his arms, turning at the sound. When he saw his beloved granddaughter, his grin widened so much it nearly split his face.
"Well, what brings you here so early, little Doleia? Didn't sleep well last night?"
Doleia squinted at him, tilting her head playfully. "Do you remember what wish I made on my twenty first birthday?"
"Of course I do!" he chuckled. "You'd been dreaming of it for years—a private concert for your coming-of-age celebration!"
Hearing that warmed her heart again. Even now, her grandfather remembered what she once held dear. But this time, things were different, she had to stop the tragedy before it began.
Nervously, she looked down at her hands and began fidgeting with her fingers. "Well… Grandpa… I don't want a concert this year."
She shifted her gaze, her voice soft, hesitant to meet his eyes.
There was a pause.
"But sweetie, wasn't that your childhood dream?" Her grandfather looked puzzled. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Because…" she took a breath, then looked up at him, eyes clear and determined, "this year, I want something else. Something more important."
He studied her for a moment but didn't protest. He had already begun planning the concert in secret, but if his granddaughter had changed her mind, then so be it. Her happiness was what mattered most.
"All right then," he said warmly. "What gift do you want this year? Hmm… let me guess. Is it a new piano?"
He vaguely recalled her muttering about her current one being pretty but lacking in sound quality a couple months ago.
If this were the old her—the one before the nightmare—she probably would've nodded without hesitation. But that was a different lifetime.
"No," she said with conviction. "Grandpa, I want to install a defense system at home."
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, hopeful.
He laughed. "A defense system? Sweetheart, our home already has one of the best around! But tell me what you're thinking—I'm listening."
Encouraged by his reaction, she quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She opened it and handed it to him. "This is what I have in mind."
She watched him closely, trying to read his expression.
His smile slowly faded as he scanned the sketch. Though the general layout resembled their current home, it was essentially a complete rebuild. The entire estate would have to be demolished and reconstructed from scratch.
Her grandfather's brows furrowed. He licked his dry lips and finally spoke, his voice tinged with regret.
"Little Doleia… I'm sorry. Grandpa may not be able to grant this birthday wish."
She looked at him, heart sinking.
"It's not that I don't see the value in security, but…" he trailed off, eyes softening. "This old house—she's been with me for most of my life. I just can't bring myself to tear her down."
Gladly, she had anticipated this. She knew how deeply her grandfather loved the ancestral home, and she had prepared a Plan B just in case.
After a short pause, she said carefully, "Then… could you buy me a piece of land instead?"
It wasn't that she couldn't afford it—but she didn't want to make her grandfather feel guilty for not being able to give her a proper birthday gift for the first time in years.
His response was immediate.
"Of course! No problem at all! Just tell me the location, and I'll make the arrangements."
Doleia exhaled in relief and smiled. "I've already found a place. There's an abandoned factory up in the hills near Bormill Road. I just want the land there."
He tilted his head, thinking. It was odd for her to want something so remote, so far from the city. But if she was asking, she must have her reasons.
"I know this place," he said after a beat. "A retired soldier friend of mine used to work there. Leave it to Grandpa—I'll make sure the land is yours", and ended his sentence with a reasurring nod.
However, her ears perked up, caught something important. She thought to herself: "A soldier friend?"
Doleia: "Grandpa… do I know that friend of yours?"
Grandpa: "You've met him. He was at my 73rd birthday party last year. His name's Marc. Do you remember?"
Uncle Marc! She remembered now. And now she had an idea.
Doleia: "Could I get Uncle Marc's number from you?"
Before he could ask why, she added quickly, "I want to learn some self-defense techniques. I figured no one better to teach me than a retired soldier, experienced like Uncle Marc."
She looked so sincere that he didn't even hesitate. He pulled out his phone and tapped away at the screen.
Ding~
Her phone vibrated with the message: Uncle Marc's contact info.
"Thank you, Grandpa!" she beamed, hugging him briefly before heading back to her room.
-----
The moment she shut the door, she added Marc on messaging and sent her first message:
Doleia: "Good morning, Uncle Marc. This is Doleia, Robert's granddaughter."
A moment later, the typing indicator appeared.
Marc: "Good morning, Doleia. I remember you. What can I do for you?"
Marc had assumed it might be something urgent—why else would Robert's granddaughter contact him directly?
She smiled, then typed back:
Doleia: "I was wondering… would you be willing to teach me some self-defense?"
He was relieved to hear hat nothing bad was happening.
Marc: "Sure. No problem. I still have all my old training equipment. When are you free to come by?"
She opened her calendar—semester break had already started. School wouldn't resume until next month.
Doleia: "Tomorrow at 1 PM. Can I come to your place then?"
Ok, he replied.
-----
Just after dinner, Grandpa called her over and handed her a folder.Doleia took it curiously, found the opening, and pulled out the documents inside.
Inside were several key documents: a land title deed, a property survey map, a zoning certificate, the sales agreement, and even a certified copy of the land transfer record.
As expected—Grandpa's execution was impeccable. No wonder he was the CEO of one of the most respected companies in the industry.
With teary eyes, Doleia looked at him.
Doleia: "Thank you, Grandpa. Six months from now, I'll return this gift to you—complete and beautiful."
Although Grandpa didn't quite understand what she meant, he smiled warmly and replied, "Alright, alright. Whatever Little Doleia gives me, Grandpa will always love it!"
After wishing each other goodnight, she rushed excitedly back to her room and began reading through the documents.
-----
As she scanned the first few pages, her eyes widened.
5 acres of land?!
That couldn't be right. She had done her research—the abandoned factory she had her eye on was only about 0.78 acres.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened—Grandpa had gone ahead and bought up all the surrounding land too.
So rich. So extravagant. Unbelievable.
Ding—her phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a bank notification:
"You have received a transfer of 30 billion dollars into your bank account from Robert Johnson."
Right after that, a message from Grandpa popped up:
"Little Doleia, did you receive Grandpa's transfer? I was afraid you wouldn't have enough funds to renovate the land, so I sent a little money your way."
Once again, Doleia was overwhelmed by the power of wealth. She felt deeply, profoundly grateful.
Doleia: "Got it. Thank you, Grandpa. I love you. Good night."
Right then and there, she made up her mind. She would absolutely make this plan come true. Six months from now, this place had to be stunning—secure, livable, a proper haven. Then she'd bring her father and grandfather over to live in it. And anyone else she could save, she would.
She closed Grandpa's chat window and opened another: James.
Doleia: "Hi James, is your team busy these days? I have a project—and I can only trust you to handle it."
As she looked at James's profile picture, she recalled the past.
His team was the one responsible for building her father's company headquarters—the one that was set to go public in just four months.
A year ago, her father had handed them the project, requesting it be completed in a year. Against all odds, they had delivered it in six months.
She thought to herself, This shelter—I'm sure only James and his team can finish it in six months.
James replied:"Hello Miss Doleia. Our current project should wrap up in about three more days. If you could send us the information first, I'll make time to meet and go over the details with you."
Doleia, seeing this, pulled out a blank sheet of paper from her drawer. She began to sketch her vision of the ideal refuge on a map of the 5 acres land.
Once satisfied, she took a picture of it and sent it to James.