[16:00 AM, 7th April 2000, Scarsdale, New York – 10:00 AM,]
"In the kitchen, Dear!" came Maya's voice, warm and slightly distracted.
Xavier made his way through the living room, past the grand piano that nobody played anymore, left silent since January, and into the kitchen. Sunlight poured through the bay windows, illuminating the marble island where Maya stood chopping vegetables with practised efficiency.
At thirty-nine, Maya James could still turn heads. Her olive skin practically glowed, and her curly black hair was pulled back in a loose bun, a few rebellious strands framing her face. She wore dark jeans and a cream cashmere sweater, pink wool slippers protecting her bare feet.
She looked up as Xavier entered, her face breaking into a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "There's my baby," she said, setting down the knife and wiping her hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't expecting you today. Everything okay?"
Xavier crossed the kitchen and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smelled like garlic and lemon and home. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just needed a break from the office. Thought I'd surprise you."
Maya pulled back, studying his face, turning it left and right with her hands with an assessing gaze. "Uh-huh. And the fact that you look exhausted has nothing to do with it?"
"That's why I came to see you guys to recharge," Xavier said with a light pout, causing his mother to laugh in response.
"Yeah, right, Baby, you've got circles under your eyes, when's the last time you've slept through the night?" She asked his face gently. "Sigh, you're taking on too much too fast, plus you have exams soon as well?"
Xavier smiled in response, not bothering to make up an excuse. "I'll be fine, Mom. Really. Just a lot happening with the draft coming up."
Maya humphed, unconvinced, but let it go. She gestured to the island. "Well, you're home now, so you're eating. I'm making chicken piccata for Zoe—she's got rehearsal until five, so we've got time."
"You don't have to—"
"Xavier Isaiah James, sit down and let your mother feed you," Maya said firmly, pointing at one of the counter stools. "You've been living off takeout and caffeine for weeks. I can tell."
There was no arguing with that tone. Xavier sat, smiling despite himself. "Yes, ma'am."
Maya returned to her cutting board, resuming her efficient rhythm. "So," she said casually, too casually, "You have been spending a lot of money lately, your dad always handled the money, so I'm just worried."
"Oh," Xavier muttered, loosening his tie. "I should probably be clearer with my investments with you, huh?"
"It's not that I don't trust you, son, it's a lot of money, and I worry," She clarified, looking up from the cutting board. "Just keep me in the loop the next time you decide to spend $700 million to buy a franchise."
"No worries, how about I give you a quick rundown now?" He stated, unbothered by her doubt, as he walked to get his bag from the console table.
"First, as stated in his will, Dad had most of our inheritance in our individual trusts, amounting to around $1.5 billion each, which we get access to at 21." He calmly explained as he took a seat on one of the stools on the countertop. "I used the money from selling Dad's stake in Stonehaven Capital, which came to around 2 billion, and the 6 billion from selling IT shares in January to start a new private fund."
He drew out the structure on a white sheet of paper, explaining how he leveraged most of the money to bet on the collapse of the IT bubble. "From the news, I'm sure you can guess that we are in the green. Instead of casing out, I used part of my liquid capital to buy the tigers and leveraged the Message to get a $2 billion loan."
"Wait, why did you get a loan?" she interrupted, looking genuinely worried, even though she knew her son was making money.
"I wanted to build a stadium and HQ for the Tigers," Xavier said with a bright smile, pulling out a folder containing the architectural renderings he'd been working on all week. He spread them across the counter. "But Dad used to say that the tycoons of our country never used their own money to build empires—they used other people's money. So I did the same."
"You're something else, you know that?" Maya said softly, staring at the list of architectural and construction firms from countries around the world, known for their construction prowess. There were detailed notes beside each name that Xaver had made after each meeting. "You got someone you're leaning toward?"
At her question, he hummed softly before flipping to two companies. "The German group Hochtief AG seems promising, but they have already accepted a project to build a stadium in Munich next year, so it wouldn't be completed promptly." He said, lamenting as he flipped to the next sheet. "Right now, I'm hopeful about Skanska Norge and Samsung C&T. Both have their plus points, but I'm waiting to see their first designs before making a decision."
Maya was quiet for a long moment, her eyes moving over the messy notes, when she finally spoke. "He would be so proud of you." She blinked rapidly, turning back to her cutting board. "So damn proud."
Xavier didn't say anything for a long moment, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill. "Well, speaking of which, you did a design degree at Columbia, right?"
"Huh, yeah, I did, but honestly, I've never used them much," She admitted with a sheepish smile. "In fact, I've used what I learned in my Perfume and mixology courses to make perfumes, just don't tell your grandma or I'll never hear the end of it."
"Ahaha, let's pray Zoe becomes a lawyer for all our sakes," He responded, earning a light shuckle from the woman as she added the vegetable to her broth. "I'm serious, Grandma can be pretty scary when you get on her bad side."
"Tell me about, you know, how many times she grounded me for going to high school part- (ahem) study sessions." She responded before remembering she was talking to her son. "Anyway, why did you bring up my design degree?"
Looking at her eyes that seemed to dare him to mention her slip-up, he wisely ignored it. "Ahem, I figured you could do the interior design for the VIP booths, the Museum and other entertainment facilities for the stadium. Maybe bring in Aunt Simone and commission her to do some art pieces; maybe that'll get her career off the ground. I really want the stadium and HQ to have a touch of the James family."
Maya froze mid-stir, her wooden spoon hovering over the simmering pan. Steam curled lazily into the air between them as she turned, her expression softening into something he hadn't seen since before his father's passing—quiet, genuine pride. "The James family, huh?" she said with a faint, teary smile. "You really mean that?"
"Of course," Xavier replied. "Everything I'm building, Mom, it's not just for me. Dad started something with his investments—he built a foundation. I'm just trying to make sure it lasts beyond us. The Tigers… the HQ, the stadium—it's not about football. It's about showing what our family created together."
Maya looked down, shaking her head with a quiet laugh. "You sound more like your father every day. Ambitious, stubborn, and far too charming for your own good."
"I'm more handsome though, right?" Xavier grinned, pointing a finger at his face.
"Naturally, since I'm your biological mother," She proudly said, flicking his head. "If not for your beautiful mother and handsome father, you'd look like a toad."
"Hey, that's too much!"
"I'M HOME!" Zoe's voice rang through the house, loud and unapologetic. "And I'm STARVING! Please tell me someone's cooking!"
The front door slammed open with the casual violence only a teenager could manage. Footsteps thundered through the foyer as sneakers flew through the air, slamming against the wall, followed by a backpack hitting the floor.
"Zoe James, pick that up!" Maya called without looking away from her pan.
"In a MINUTE!" came the response, already closer, causing Xavier to turn to face her. She looked like a small hurricane; her light brown skin was flushed from rehearsal, and her curly black hair was pulled into a messy bun, with loose strands sticking to her neck. She wore black leggings, an oversized Alvin Ailey sweatshirt, and a cute teddy bear necklace.
Her auburn eyes, the same shade as Xavier's, went wide the moment she spotted her brother. "XAVIER!" she shrieked, before exploding from the dining area through the living room and launching herself at him.
He barely had time to brace before she crashed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a stranglehold. "Whoa, easy! You're gonna knock me off the stool."
"What are you doing here?!" she demanded, pulling back but keeping her hands on his shoulders, trying to shake the answers out of him. "I thought you were all business-business-business now. Too important for us regular people."
"Didn't I just take you shopping and for milkshakes two days ago, Zo?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "Stop acting pitiful and tell me how training was?"
"Brutal," she groaned, finally releasing him and hopping onto the stool next to his. "Miss Katerina is on this kick about 'precision' and 'discipline' like we're training for the Olympics. My arms are killing me. I feel dizzy just sitting here. I did so many flips."
"Zoe, don't disrespect your teacher; she is just pushing you a little," Maya warned.
Zoe looked hurt, as if she had been stabbed, as she seemingly lost all her strength, comically sliding off her stool. She fell to the ground in almost slow motion, clutching her heart with tears spilling out of her eyes. "How could you, Mother?"
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To Be continued...