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Enjoy chapter 2 & 3 and can't wait to hear from you all with any suggestions or plot lines you may want.
Chapter 2
The drive south was not the easiest I have undertaken in recent memory. So many questions swirling around my head. It was agreed that I would go alone, because at this stage, no one was aware of my wealth or means, and it would give me the privacy I needed to confront my past. I had rung my parents earlier that morning to let them know I was coming and I wanted to talk about a few things. Nothing out of the ordinary for me to do such, but for me the butterflies were churning. Pulling up in the driveway of the house, my headspace was not great. My parents as per custom, came out the front to greet me as they always had. Walking up to them my emotions were in check, but yet I still had an undercurrent of fear lurking about in my mind. Our greetings were civil, and we went inside. I walked in to the lounge and sat. Not speaking, whilst they asked usual pleasantries. Then it happened.
"I know the truth" I said.
"what truth are you talking about" my mother responded.
"The truth. Me. Who I really am". I responded in a voice that was just above a whisper.
Silence surrounded the room, none of us wanting to speak next knowing where the conservation was headed. My father eventually spoke in his stern, commanding voice.
"tell us what you think the truth is."
"I am adopted. I am from German heritage. My mother gave me up because of the shame it bought on to her family."
My mother started to tear up and looked distant in her eyes. It was like she always knew that this time would come, yet at the same time she was completely stunned that it had arrived. Nothing else was spoken for a length of time that felt like hours, but was more like minutes. The three of us just sitting there. It was at this stage my mother gave my father a knowing look and got up and left the room.
Returning a good 10mins later she bought with her a box. A file size box, that had my name written on it. She placed it front of me telling me to open it, and they would answer any questions they could.
With great hesitance I opened the box. It was filled with newspaper articles, magazine clippings and documents pertaining to my birth mother, her family and the letters of my adoption etc. They had collected everything they could ever find on my birth family and had saved it all. At the bottom of the box there was a letter written by my birth mother, to me, dated days after I was born.
"Dear Son,
We have met for only minutes, but I want you to know that the love I feel for you I will cherish until the day I die. You have bought me joy knowing I carried you inside me. Our bond grew the moment I knew you were inside me. Giving you up is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I know it is the right thing to do. Your new parents will love you, cherish you, and raise you as their own, and I hope that one day you will forgive me, as I will always be here waiting for you.
Love Mumma."
Reading those words brought tears to my eyes. I was hurt, I was saddened, I was loved. I sat motionless as the words kept playing through my mind. As I was placing the box on the ground, another letter caught my eye that I had not noticed it. I reached for it and opened what appeared to be a legal document. Being written in German, I was at first confused as to what it detailed, but there were some words I understood, and numbers that made sense. I looked at my parents, and then at the letter. They were non-responsive. Their expressions held little in the way of giving me answers. I asked what it was. And was told it was the agreement. What agreement? It was not making sense. It was at this stage my mother spoke up.
"It was the agreement we were paid to raise you. It provided for you and gave us an allowance to raise you as our own. It was paid up until you were 21."
Was I suffering anger? Was I not hearing this right? Did these people raise and adopt me because they were paid to do it? Was this not illegal? I didn't need any more answers. I didn't need or want to talk anymore. I picked up the box, looked around the room for one last time, and walked out the door, with my parents hot on my heels begging me to stay and talk more. I couldn't. I was broken. I drove the 25mins to the nearest motel, and booked in to a room. I turned my phone off, and it was here, alone, that I started to learn about my family, my history & my heritage, from a box containing over 500 press clippings, Statements & letters. It was during this period that I found that my birth mother had pleaded at times for her to see me. For her to visit me, to have contact with me. There were letters from my maternal grandmother informing my adopted parents that my birth mother had drug problems and was crazy. I didn't know what to believe but each letter from my birth mother was filled with joy & love. The things that I never felt from adoptive parents or siblings. At the same time, I was concerned as to what my future held as now the head of one of Europe's wealthiest families and organizations.
The following day I rose, had coffee, packed the car and headed back to Sydney. The drive was effortless and my mood was lifting. I was starting to feel myself. And then I turned into my street. That's when life changed forever. Covering the street were numerous TV crews, photographers, reporters, people seeing what the fuss was about. It was at this point I realised they were outside my house. I knew this wasn't good. Suddenly someone yelled my name and my car was swarmed with people. Flashes going off in my face, people yelling questions, but answers I couldn't give. The police were also there and assisted me in to my drive where I was met by a team of burly body guards who got me out of the car and inside. Jackson was sitting on the lounge with Greta, and our two daughters. I had forgotten to turn my phone back on the previous night, and they were trying to get word to me to not come home. Oops, my bad, but here I was and ready to face the world.
Greta had prepared a statement for me to read to the media, but I was not to take questions at this stage. As she coached me through the speech I was glad that I generally was not afraid of public speaking, and was confident I could deliver it well. After all, this was in effect my new life now, and I was going to be doing this sort of thing often. Why not start on my home turf.
After a solid shot of vodka, I tidied myself up and walked out to the front lawn where the media has assembled it's self. Greta made some opening comments that I would not be taking questions, but I would be reading a prepared statement, and then talk more in the coming days. I stood there for about 3 mins. Silent. And then I launched into the statement that would not only identify me to the world, but would also open up my life, my hidden skeletons, my kids and privacy to the world. I was no longer Grant Morgan from Sydney Australia, husband, father. I was now Grant Von Garbner, Husband, Father, Industrialist, Banker & wealthiest man in Europe. Times they were a changin'
Chapter 3
Later that evening it was advised that we leave our house, our home, and move to the hotel in the city, as we could be better monitored and protected there. Words I never thought I would have directed to me in my lifetime. But, this was happening and I needed to think of my husband and girls first and foremost and make sure they were protected. At 18 & 21 they had been raised to be strong, independent woman and they could probably teach the strongest guard a thing or two. It was later this night where I was informed of my plans for the coming days & weeks. First step was Germany, leaving in two days time. No time for goodbyes of friends, or hurried explanations. Letters sent off to our employers, apologsing, but regretfully we wouldn't be returning to our jobs. That was hard. But, looking back, needed. Then the decision of what to do for our kids. Did they want to come with us, or did they want to stay, with protection. We agreed that this would be a whole of family thing, and we would all go to Germany and learn together. That made me feel good, and reminded me what family was all about.
Two days later a procession of vehicles arrived out side our hotel to take us to the airport. I was thinking an uber, but apparently that wasn't allowed anymore. As the people all loaded into the cars, were driven to the airport, but instead of going to the terminal, we turned left, and through a gate that I didn't know. And then it hit me. We were in General Aviation. We weren't going to the terminal. As we pulled up we were ushered out of the cars and into a building where Customs agents took our passports and passed us thru to a lounge area. Looking out to tarmac, it was then that I saw it. A pristine Gulfstream G800. Its white was almost blinding, and its gold engines seemed polished til they could be polished no more. It was the most beautiful sight to behold.
Stepping inside the jet, the enormity of what was happening swept over me, and how in 48hrs our life had changed. Weather that be for the better or worse, was yet to be seen, but for now, as we were sitting back in the luxury of our private jet, it sure felt good.
The flight took us to Dubai to refuel, and onwards to Germany. During the time in the air, I was briefed on what would be waiting for me in Germany. A business with a hostile board, distant relatives that would be trying to undermine my every step, and legal challenges to my inheritance. The picture painted prior to hopping the plane, were completely different to what was now being painted in a place I could not escape. Jackson listened on intently giving me the occasional glance, which I knew he was supporting me. The girls were had their heads stuck in their computers doing what ever they did 24/7. To them it was an adventure.
Our arrival in Germany in the dead of night, in the middle of winter, was quiet and uneventful. Our home, which had been in my family since 1912, was a lakefront villa in the village of Utting Am Ammersee, about 30mins from the airport & central Munich. A line of vehicles were waiting for us as we departed the plane. Our security was tight, and I had allocated James as my senior protection detail. James was a retired US Navy seal that was fluent in 5 languages and was trained to kill on first sight. His attributes and friendly demeaner endeared me to him straight away. Whilst this was not his first gig, it was his first as a primary lead in protecting a high net worth individual. Our briefing on the plane was good, although he did ask many personal questions that he needed answers to in order to make sure I was protector. This included if I was faithful in my marriage, no, if I liked to play around, yes, was Jackson aware of this, yes, did Jackson do the same, definitely. He also asked if we enjoyed group sex, yes, and then he asked me to accompany him to the bathroom, so he could inspect my body for any identifiable markings, should they be required. Normally if a hot muscled man asks me to get naked I am all for it, but in this case, my nerves were in overdrive. Whilst at 51 I was pretty happy with my body, I was suffering an inferiority complex as I stripped to my briefs. I'm 6' and not in bad shape. I'm blonde from head to toe, and have a nice clippered chest hair that leads down in a trail to my cock. I wont say I'm huge, but I do have a nice 7.5" uncut cock, that when hard has a solid girth that has pleased many over the years. Standing there being inspected by James, I was fine. Then he asked me to remove my jocks. As I lowered them down, I could feel my cock start to firm up, and the more I wished it wouldn't, the damn thing had a mind of it's own and before I knew it, it was hard as a rock, and the first signs of glistening cum were appearing from my slit. The look in James eye's was one of sole amusement. I swear he made me keep them down longer than needed, but when I looked down again, I did notice that the front of his pants starting to tent out as well. Note for later I thought to myself. Jackson had gone through a similar process himself by his lead protector Ben, who knowing Jackson would of put on a show. Jackson has been blessed in many area's, but none more so than his 9" uncut cock that has pole driven me that many times with force that its left me spent for days. His olive skin from days as a landscaper out doors in the sun, to his regular football games, have given him a defined body that cannot be stopped, despite the amount of junk he eats.
After being cleared by customs, which I didn't even see, we hopped in our car and were driven to our new "home". Sitting in the back seat slightly dozing, jet lagged and I guess a general sense of exhaustion, I just wanted a shower & some sleep. Occasionally opening my eyes, I had no idea were I was. I don't think at that stage I really cared. Jacksons head was resting on my shoulder and I knew that's all I needed right then and there. As the vehicle slowed I opened my eyes to see some large steel gates in front of me, a guard house and two armed men standing in front. This was the entry to our property, and as I would come to learn, a sign of my wealth that could not be avoided. As the gates opened, a drive filled with birch trees lit from beneath were lined for as far as I could see. It was simply spectacular and Jackson and I were overwhelmed by the night time beauty of the place. Pulling up in front of the villa was equally as spectacular with 3 staff ready to welcome us, albeit at 3am in the morning. Hoping out of the cars, and getting our senses in the cold night air, 4 gun shots were heard, as our protection tackled us to the ground laying cover from an attack from the dark.
The pain I was feeling in my body was not from a guard tackling me, but from a bullet that had hit me, it was about at this time I blacked out...........