The Mustang growled beneath me as I pulled up to the university gates like it was just another runway. Heads turned, of course—they always do. Matte black, custom rims, leather seats that still smelled expensive. Daddy had it delivered from L.A. last week. He Said it "matched my energy."
I slid my sunglasses down just enough to scan the crowd. Their stares? A mix of envy and confusion. Good. Let them wonder if I was a student or a sponsor.
I'm sid leClair
Today is my first day at harvard. I was the freshman pursing law
I wasn't just anyone—I was Richard's daughter.
And that wasn't a name. That was a warning.
You don't mess with me, because Richard doesn't play nice.
He's the man CEOs answer to, the name whispered in boardrooms and feared in courtrooms.
He doesn't sign deals—he writes the rules.
If power had a face, it'd be his.
If fear had a trigger, it'd be his voice on the other end of the call.
Everything about me screamed untouchable.
Not self-made—Richard-made.
I didn't have a silver spoon. I had an empire in my crib.
Private jets? That's Tuesday.
Security? Trained to protect nations, now assigned to me.
My closet? Designed by people who don't take clients—unless their last name is mine.
My presence? Inherited danger wrapped in designer silk.
I don't hustle. I don't strive. I breathe, and empires shift.
Because when Richard wants something, it happens.
When Richard says no, things disappear.
He doesn't just own the city.
He owns the people who think they run it.
So look at me carefully—
Not because I'm rich.
But because I'm Richard's.
And that makes me lethal.