The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy! - Chapter 489

Chapter 489: Prologue
Prologue

Many centuries ago, a small nation lived in peace… until one rising empire sought to dominate the world.

Wars broke out, plague struck every corner of the land, and countless lives were lost.

For decades, the world fell to its knees before this empire—until the people had had enough.

Revolts erupted across every land, hearts crying for peace, souls screaming to end the tyranny.

And so, the Great War began.

A war for freedom, for humanity, for the world.

In it stood only two forces: the oppressed, and the overwhelming might of the empire.

Year after year, the war escalated, neither side willing to surrender or even speak of peace.

But as with all things, the beginning must eventually meet its end.

After years of bloodshed, the revolutionaries finally emerged victorious. With a push that sent the royal knights retreating, they seized momentum and stormed the gates of the empire’s capital, where they beheaded the tyrannical emperor and the entire royal family.

Those who had aided the emperor were publicly executed.

Just when everyone believed peace would return—after all, the emperor’s severed head was displayed on the stakes at the royal family’s gate—they realized how wrong they were.

Without a ruler—good or bad—and without structure, greed swiftly festered in the hearts of men. And with the war’s end came its aftermath.

Before everything collapsed, five houses rose.

The House of Bellemonte, the House of Monreal, the Tribe of Talmaru, the High Divine Circle, and the Zorken Order.

These five forces had sparked the revolution, led the oppressed to victory, and now stood as the pillars of the new empire.

Under their rule—as the founding families—order was restored.

Centuries passed. The world continued to turn. Empires shifted, kingdoms crumbled, and new systems took shape. As politics evolved with time, the five families agreed to step back from the world’s ruling stage.

They vowed to relinquish influence and remain apart from worldly affairs.

That agreement was honored, thus forming the secret society.

This secret society consisted not only of the founding families, but also their servants, knights, and devoted supporters. Each lived quietly, isolated within their own island communities.

But the generations after them thought differently. With such power and wealth, why live in obscurity? Slowly, greed crept in. Little by little, the families clawed their way back into the world.

Before anyone realized it, they had nations under their command. Their political and military webs spread wide, pulling strings from behind the scenes like master puppeteers.

With this new direction came rules and the formation of a council to maintain civility. The once-unbreakable friendships between founding families were now strained beyond repair.

Even so, open conflict between any founding families would be catastrophic. Thus, the council, and its regular meetings, remained necessary.

Fortunately, it worked. While no direct wars occurred, tension simmered at every gathering. Provocations flew at every turn, and ambition choked the air.

Then, it happened.

The fall of the Zorken family—sparked by the war between its heirs for the position of head. The conflict raged for years, destroying lives and nearly annihilating the once-powerful Zorken Order. It pushed them to the brink, almost collapsing entirely.

Just when everyone thought they were finished, that their seat in the council soon to be vacant…

He appeared.

An outsider. Someone with no ties to the Zorken family, the secret society, or their centuries-old legacy.

*

*

*

The room was made entirely of stone, each crack on the walls a silent trace of history. A flag bearing a foreign insignia stood in the corner, belonging to no known nation. The windows were open, the frames reinforced with minimal renovations for protection.

At the room’s center sat a thick wooden oval table, seven chairs spaced evenly around it.

Despite the ancient atmosphere, the people inside wore modern clothing—tuxedos, gowns, heels, luxury watches and handbags. Each carried a regal, distant aura. A few bore sly smiles, but beneath them, tension tightened the air.

“This is interesting,” a blonde man with striking blue eyes mused, tapping a fingertip against the table. Among the men present, he looked the youngest. “The Zorken family self-destructed because the late head betrayed his legal heir.”

“Legal heir?” the woman beside him—slightly older—snorted. “By what law are you speaking, Bellemonte? The late Zorken head made the right choice appointing Naylani instead of Nathalie. Look at what Nathalie did. She destroyed her family for… what? Nothing but her own demise.”

The blonde man laughed lightly. “Marceline, how many times must I tell you to call me by my name? Using ‘Bellemonte’ makes us sound too distant.”

Marceline only shrugged, offering a disinterested glance around the table. She clearly had little patience for Henrik Bellemonte—the brat of the Bellemonte house.

“I don’t care whether the Zorkens want to keep their position,” another man cut in—a bulky, middle-aged figure with tattoos climbing from his sleeves to his neck. His voice was deep and gruff. “But letting an outsider lead the family? Unacceptable.”

“Nathalie’s actions exposed the secret society,” an elderly man said next, his white hair complementing the frailty in his voice. “Nothing can be done now. The damage is irreversible. And since the Zorken family’s rules align with ours, we can’t interfere with Sybil’s proposition.”

Henrik snorted, and the tattooed man frowned deeply.

“The elder is right,” an elderly woman added with a single nod. “We are here to hear Sybil’s proposal regarding the new head of the Zorken family. From what I’ve learned, the Order has already accepted him, and they are on their way to introduce him to the council.”

Sybil—current representative of the Zorken family—had served on the council for years.

The last man — the one who had yet said anything — in the room studied everyone’s expressions after the older woman’s words. Their reactions were a mix of curiosity and displeasure—expected, given they were about to meet the person who would claim the empty seat.

Moments later, a knock echoed from the thick wooden door.

Heads turned as it creaked open. First entered Sybil—aged, composed, familiar.

Behind her stepped a man none of them recognized—lean, expressionless, wearing a plain formal suit and carrying a heavy briefcase.