Page 32 of The Cruel Heir
I smirked. “She gets that from your side, I assume.”
I didn’t mind the fire in her. She was still trying to convince herself this wasn’t what she wanted; me, this house, this life. But it was written in the way her throat tightened when I spoke, how her pulse fluttered when I got too close. She didn’t say it out loud, not yet. But her body remembered what her mouth refused to admit.
His chuckle lacked warmth. “She needs guidance. You’ll handle her?”
Handle. As if Zara was some problem to be managed, rather than the woman I had already claimed.
“I always do.”
John nodded once, satisfied. As if this conversation was settled.
It wasn’t.
After Zara fled upstairs, I had other matters to tend to. I made my way to my father’s office, ensuring no one was watching, before pressing a hidden panel on the wall. A biometric scanner appeared and I pressed my finger against it. The lock disengaged with a quiet click, allowing me inside.
The room smelled of old leather and wealth, the ghosts of my father’s legacy woven into every inch. I settled into his chair, the weight of power and responsibility pressing down. I had inherited everything. The companies, the properties, the money.
But my mother was up to something.
I began digging through files, scrolling through encrypted archives. I knew better than to underestimate her. She was always looking for a way to secure her own survival.
To a man like Johnston at that.
Sure, Johnston had the pedigree on paper. But the real wealth came from Zara’s mother: boardrooms glittering in her name, charity galas launched on her ambition. When the cancer took her, he inherited the empire, and promptly ran it ragged.I texted Frankie to meet me in here. I’d already overridden my father’s codes and replaced them with my own.
Including the fingerprint scanner recognizing Frankie.
I dug through the archives on my father’s laptop while I waited. Frankie didn’t take too long. He’d probably been hanging around, hitting on the maid. We’ve had to replace staff from bitches going crazy over his cock.
But he was an asset to The Family.
He knocked and waited for me to let him in. Even though I invited him up here, his manners were always impeccable. He limped in, his signature gait, from an old injury, making his presence unmistakable.
“Did you find anything yet?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
I exhaled, rubbing my temple. “Nothing concrete, but I know she’s planning something. And John isn’t just some desperate rich man looking for a lifeline.”
Frankie leaned against the desk, his expression grim. “His family’s name dated back generations, but everyone whispered that it was Zara’s mother who brought true capital into the fold: boardroom wins, auction-room conquests, a glittering network of allies no bank could ever underwrite.”
“That’s exactly what I need to confirm.”
Frankie pulled up a chair and started working on the laptop. “Your father had everything hidden under layers of encryption. He was paranoid as hell.”
“He had every reason to be.”
Nearly an hour later, Frankie hummed in approval. “Found something interesting. Buried deep. A second will.”
I stiffened. “That’s impossible.”
Frankie turned the screen so I could see. My father had left behind a contingency plan.
For Zara.
"This isn’t just a financial safety net," Frankie muttered, clicking through more files. "This is a contractual agreement. A binding obligation. Your father didn’t just leave her money, he tied her to the Kingsley family so she can’t escape."
My stomach twisted. "How?"
Frankie exhaled sharply. "It’s an arranged marriage contract. Signed by your father, and her mother, twenty-three years ago, to unite you both in matrimony, together."
