The sleek elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. Alex stepped out, his every movement measured—his navy suit unwrinkled, tie sharp, and not a single strand of hair out of place.
Dave, his driver, had already retreated to wait by the car. Alex's polished shoes clicked lightly against the marble floors as he approached the group waiting just outside the elevator.
"Mr. Walton, good afternoon!" the Mall Manager, a middle-aged man with a friendly but professional demeanor, stepped forward and extended his hand.
Alex shook it with a firm, confident grip. "Good afternoon. Let's get started."
"We're honored to have you here, sir," said Ms. Leigh, the assistant manager. "The team's been preparing all week for your visit."
"I appreciate the effort," Alex said smoothly, his tone even and low. "Walk me through the current progress."
The group began to walk down a quiet hallway lined with glass windows overlooking the main shopping floor.
"We've made several key updates to the structure," the manager began. "Our focus lately has been on improving acoustic comfort throughout the centre."
Alex raised a brow, interested. "Go on."
"Well," the manager explained, "we've found that reducing noise and controlling sound vibrations actually encourages people to spend more time inside the mall. It keeps them more relaxed, and as a result, they explore more shops, dine longer, and engage more."
Ms. Leigh chimed in, "It's not just about customer satisfaction, either. A quieter, more comfortable environment also makes this place more attractive to high-end tenants. That kind of competition lets us push rental prices higher—gradually, of course."
Alex nodded slightly, taking it all in. "I've read the research. Acoustic design is still underrated in commercial spaces. If you're managing to reduce echo in large open areas like this, that's commendable."
"We're working with some of the top acoustic consultants in the country," the manager added quickly. "And we're planning another phase of renovations to improve insulation in the upper-level entertainment section."
Alex paused by the railing overlooking the food court, gaze sharp. "And what about foot traffic patterns? Are you analyzing which zones retain guests the longest?"
"Yes, sir," Ms. Leigh answered. "We've installed new heat-mapping tools last month. So far, the redesigned lounge near the west wing shows the highest dwell time. We're thinking of replicating its design across other zones."
"Good," Alex said simply. "Efficiency and comfort. That's the balance. Keep going in this direction."
"Understood, sir."
He glanced at his watch. "I'll stay for ten more minutes. Then I expect a full report on tenant turnover rate, weekly footfall, and the renovation schedule by tonight."
"Yes, Mr. Walton," both replied almost in unison.
As Alex continued the tour, his calm demeanor didn't waver, but his presence alone made the team move sharper, speak clearer, and stand a little taller. Even when silent, he commanded the room.
After spending sometime making sure everything was running smoothly at Walton Luxe Plaza, Alex gave a final nod of approval to the mall management team. His sharp eyes had swept through every corner—from the polished food courts offering world cuisines to the state-of-the-art cinema halls and interactive kids' zones. Even the salons, tech support booths, and spacious parking lots were on point.
Everything was in line with his expectations.
Everything was perfect.
Just how he liked it.
Without a word, he turned and exited through the VIP passage, where Dave had the sleek black sedan already waiting.
Once inside the car, Alex leaned back slightly, his fingers brushing over the sleek metal of his luxury watch. His sharp eyes drifted to the city skyline, but his mind was already on tomorrow.
Photoshoot…
After weeks of discussions and strategy meetings, the decision had been made—their next major product launch would enter the booming pet industry. A premium kennel food brand, focused on high-quality nutrition for dogs, carrying the Walton name.
It was a bold move, but a smart one. The market was on the rise, and they were ready to dominate it.
Alex was expected to be present He would be there in a supervisory role—to inspect the setup, oversee the branding, and make sure every detail reflected the Walton standard. To give the campaign a strong public appeal, they had invited a popular singer to be the face of the product. Her bright image, massive following, and love for animals made her the perfect fit for the brand.
As the car rolled through the city and entered the private gated estate, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The mansion loomed like a monument to power—grand pillars, gleaming windows, sprawling gardens. A home for kings, not boys looking for rest.
The car stopped in the front courtyard, and Dave stepped out to open the door for him.
Alex stepped down with effortless grace, adjusting his cuff links as he walked through the ornate front doors. The marble floor gleamed beneath his shoes.
The butler was already waiting.
"Welcome home, sir," the man said with a polite bow. "Mr. Walton is expecting you in the study."
Alex paused for a beat, his expression calm, unreadable.
Of course he is, he thought. This is why I avoid coming back too often. There's never peace here… only expectations.
But on the outside, his voice remained smooth and unbothered. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."
He handed his coat to the butler with a slight nod and continued walking at his own pace—cool, composed, and walked his way in his father's study room.