Put Respect On My Name Novels & Stories

“Go to Miracle and give it to her. She will teach you everything you need.” “Oh my god!” She held my hand and cheerfully shook it. “Thank you, Asper… I mean, Ma’am Asper,” she said. “I promise that I will do my job and help your shop with everything I can.” “Just call me Asper. No need for honorifics,” I said. I believe that showing someone the respect that they deserve doesn’t really need to be called with honorifics in their names. That is why I always encourage my employees to call me by my name.

I had to check the pending problem with the project updates and figure things out since I already had this ring—meaning I accepted the permanent seat in the company and the role in the Oirdheirc Society. “When you are ready, my son. You can build your own name and your life. Help your mama with our family business.” On his deathbed, he placed something in my hand and had me forcibly grasp it. “You have my name. People will respect you the way they respect me. But be fair to everyone around you. That’s how you gain everyone’s respect on your own. Promise me to wear this when you are ready, son.” “You mean to embrace who you are? Did you inherit his title? How does it feel?” Pyke asked.

A new identity I was sitting at the dining table with a single sheet of paper in front of me. It was a formal application for a petition for a name change. The cursor on Igor’s laptop was blinking steadily, waiting for me to type in the "Proposed New Name" section. Igor walked in from the terrace, carrying a fresh pot of coffee. He stopped behind me and looked over my shoulder at the screen. "You’re really going to do it today?" he asked.

He said And he made me sit in my office chair. I sat down and thought about what he said, what could be changed. "What's the point of changing the name Keng?" There was no emotion as I said those words at all and at the same time, he laid down the invitation he brought to my table. "For your protection Don Zaki D'." He said. I nodded. I agreed it would be better to change my name. "Morfeo." I Shortly said to him.

He spoke slowly in a calming and steady manner. "Did you just arrive here?" he asked. I nodded. He didn't ask any follow-up questions after that. Once I was done treating my wound, he handed me his business card and said, "You can contact me if you run into any issues." His name was Ivan Milazzo. There was just a telephone number written under his name—but no company name, no address, or anything of the sort. I took the card from him, thanked him, and didn't think that we'd meet again.

I wasn't just seeking revenge anymore; I am seeking to show them my worth. But a new name? What should I name myself then?

“It will affect branding, contracts—” “I’m aware,” I said. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn't need to. “This is my decision.” A pause. Then no one pushed further. Uncle J didn’t say anything. But I could feel his support. The lawyer slid the document toward me. “This is the official resolution for the name change.” I looked down at it. Mira Zion. Printed clearly. I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the pen and signed. My hand stayed steady the entire time. When I was done, I set the pen back in place.

I thought i would never get to use those clues i picked. I thought i would never be able to stand in the midst of the big boys. Seven days have changed that totally for me. In the span of seven days, i’ve learnt that people have no clue who you are, your name makes them know. I went from Antonia Finn to Antonia Elcot, and that simple change in name turned me from one person to the other. The respect, and prestige i never got with the name Finn, is now being given. It’s one thing to have a name though, but it’s another to make good use of that name. That’s where i’ve decided i won’t go wrong.

“That is, if we’re sticking to the current company structure.” “You know what? This already sounds like too much for me to personally handle,” I said, waving my hand lazily. “Just do it all. Handle every detail. Let me know once it’s complete.” “Very well, sir. But may I ask, what name do you have in mind?” he asked again, bowing in that overly formal way of his. “Gabriel’s Holdings,” I said with a smile, already picturing the new name etched into glass and metal.

I whispered. He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me. Just tell me if this is really what you want.” “It is,” I said. “But…” I hesitated. “I don’t want it under your name. I don’t want people to say I only built something because I had a powerful man behind me. I want it legally mine. Fully mine.” Something flickered in his eyes—approval. Pride. Respect. “Then we’ll put it under your name,” he said simply. “Every design choice, every contract, every signature—yours.”