All Chapters of My Father's Rival Is My Lover : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The early morning air in Nairobi was crisp and buzzing with energy.Ethan stepped out of the shuttle and onto the red soil of a refugee innovation hub, one of the first stops on his year-long sabbatical. At just seventeen, most kids were figuring out who they wanted to be.Ethan?He was building opportunities for people who didn’t even know his name, and that was exactly how he liked it.As he walked toward the learning pavilion, rows of young students looked up from their screens. Some were coding. Others design clean water solutions. Most were interacting with a custom interface he and his team had created: Sprout Light, a low-bandwidth, solar-powered platform that taught innovation through storytelling.A little girl ran up to him, grinning. “Are you the one who made the machine talk in Somali?”Ethan smiled. “I helped. But you’re the one making it do magic.”She giggled and dashed off.That moment, right there, was why he did it.Back in Atlanta, Cassie sat at her kitchen table, s

The lakehouse was quiet.Set along the edge of Lake Oconee, the Turner family’s private retreat was a place they rarely visited, but always treasured. It had become a sanctuary for major family transitions, a place to reflect, reset, and reconnect.This weekend was one of those times.Cassie stood on the dock, her hands tucked into the pockets of her cream shawl as the breeze lifted her curls. Behind her, the house glowed with warm light and the quiet chatter of her grandchildren echoing through the windows.She smiled.Hope had brought the twins, now six months old and giggling at everything. Grace, now three, had already claimed a favorite reading nook by the window. Ayden was inside making tea. And Ethan, fresh from his eighteenth birthday and months of world travel, had asked for this weekend himself.He had something to share.Cassie watched as his silhouette appeared beside her, hoodie pulled over his head, his hands tucked deep into his jacket pockets.“You always find me out h

The Turner Estate shimmered with late summer light as the family prepared for something they’d never done before: a full multi-generational leadership summit.It was Hope’s idea.“We’ve spent years changing the world outside,” she’d said over dinner. “But it’s time we make sure we’re strengthening what’s inside, our family.”Cassie had smiled at the suggestion. “A summit sounds so formal.”“Because it is,” Hope replied, adjusting Grace’s napkin like a miniature blazer. “We’re not just a family anymore. We’re a living legacy.”Damon had clinked his glass. “Then let’s give the future something to build with.”The invitations went out to every branch of their family tree, cousins running nonprofits, in-laws leading classrooms, adopted mentees from Seed and Sprout, honorary aunties and uncles who’d shaped their journeys.They called it:“The We Build Summit.”Tagline: Where Legacy Becomes Community.Ethan designed the digital invites, embedding a custom map showing each attendee’s connect

The attic smelled like cedarwood and warm paper.Grace stood at the top of the steps, her small hand resting on the banister as she stared out over boxes stacked like time capsules and books that seemed older than the house itself.Cassie watched from behind as her granddaughter took in the quiet.“I used to come up here when I was your age,” she said softly. “Whenever I wanted to dream about things bigger than me.”Grace turned, her eyes wide. “Can I dream here too?”Cassie nodded. “That’s why I brought you.”It had started as a simple sleepover, Grace’s first solo weekend at Grandma and Grandpa’s without her sisters. But it had quickly turned into something more: a chance for the first-born girl of the next generation to discover her roots.Cassie reached for a dusty trunk and opened it.Inside were journals. Dozens of them.“Are these all yours?” Grace asked, peeking over the edge.Cassie smiled. “Mine. Your mom’s. Some of your uncle’s. Even letters from your great-grandfather.”Gr

The auditorium was smaller than most the Turners had filled over the years, just two hundred seats, soft amber lighting, and a wooden stage framed by hand-painted banners that read:Young Voices Rising: A Night of Storytelling.It wasn’t a press event.It wasn’t global.But to Grace?It was everything.Tonight, she would tell her first story, in front of an audience, a mic, and her entire family.Cassie sat near the front, holding Damon’s hand, heart pounding as hard as it had the night Hope launched her first Seed Center.“She’s ready,” Damon whispered, sensing her tension.Cassie nodded, though her throat was tight.“I know. It’s just… watching the next flame light up is always emotional.”Hope sat beside them, camera ready. Ethan and Liana had flown in early just for this moment. Even the twins were in attendance, tucked into fuzzy jackets with Ayden sitting at the edge of the row.When Grace’s name was called, she stepped out in a blue dress she had picked herself, simple, with ti