Novels by Lizzy Aik

Ethan stared at the yellowed envelope on the polished wooden table for a long time. The handwriting was strong and familiar... the same bold strokes he had seen in the few old letters his father had kept in a small wooden box at home. FOR MY GRANDSON. His fingers hovered over it, almost afraid to touch it, like breaking the seal might make everything real in a way he still wasn’t ready for. The suite was quiet except for the soft hum of medical machines in the next room and the distant city sounds filtering through the thick glass windows. Outside, the skyline glittered like it always had, completely unaware of the storm building inside these walls. Eleanor sat across from him, her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching patiently. The silver-haired woman looked both fragile and unbreakable at the same time... someone who had carried heavy secrets for decades and still stood straight. Dr. Grant stood a respectful distance away near the door, his posture straight but his eyes alert,

Ethan stood frozen for a second, processing Dr. Grant’s words. A grandmother? He had vague memories of old family stories from his father... distant relatives, heated arguments behind closed doors, and people who seemed to disappear after his grandfather’s death. But no one had ever mentioned a living grandmother who knew the inner workings of the empire. The idea felt both impossible and strangely inevitable after everything else that had happened in the last two days.“Bring her up,” Ethan said finally, his voice steadier than he felt. “But keep security close. I don’t want any surprises tonight. Not after the power incident earlier.”Dr. Grant nodded and gave the order into his phone. A few minutes later, the door to the suite opened again. An elderly woman walked in slowly, supported by a polished wooden cane but carrying herself with quiet dignity. She had silver hair pulled back neatly into a bun, sharp intelligent eyes, and a simple but elegant coat that spoke of old money. The

Ethan spent the rest of the afternoon in the quiet Chairman’s Suite, sitting at the large desk near the window. Sunlight streamed in, casting long golden beams across the polished wood as he reviewed the thick folder Dr. Grant had left him. The betrayal list was far more detailed than he expected. One entry stopped him cold... three years ago, Victor Lang had quietly pushed to rewrite the succession rules, claiming Ethan’s grandfather was no longer fit to lead. Documents showed forged medical opinions, backroom deals with two other board members, and even payments to a private doctor willing to sign off on false reports. Ethan’s grip tightened on the page until the paper creased. This wasn’t ambition. This was a calculated knife in the back while his own family had been fighting just to survive hospital bills. He kept reading, but he didn’t linger on every name. He didn’t need to. The pattern was clear enough. These people had been circling the empire like vultures, waiting for weakn

Ethan spent the rest of the morning in the quiet Chairman’s Suite, sitting beside his father’s bed. The old man was resting more peacefully than he had in weeks. The new treatment protocol had already started showing small improvements... better color in his face, steadier breathing, and a little strength returning to his grip when Ethan held his hand. Private nurses moved in and out silently, checking vitals and adjusting IV drips with careful, professional hands. For the first time in months, Ethan didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around him. Instead, he felt something heavier... the weight of everything that had suddenly landed on his shoulders. He watched his father’s chest rise and fall, remembering all the nights he had sat in cramped hospital chairs, praying for one more day. Three jobs. Endless bills. Sophia’s cold stares every time he came home exhausted and empty-handed. Now here he was, in a suite bigger than their old apartment, with doctors on standby who actual

Ethan stood by the large floor-to-ceiling window of the Chairman’s Suite, watching the city slowly wake up below. Cars crawled like tiny ants along the streets. Sunlight poured across the expensive furniture and the quiet medical equipment. For the first time in weeks, his father was stable. The doctors had run new tests overnight and confirmed that full transplant preparations could begin right away. Ethan had actually slept more than three hours on the couch in the corner... a couch softer than any bed he’d ever owned in his life. He felt strange in his own skin. The dirty construction clothes from yesterday still clung to him, stiff with dried sweat and dust. He hadn’t changed. Part of him didn’t want to. Like if he stayed in these clothes a little longer, he could hold on to the version of himself that had walked into that basement clinic ready to sell a kidney. Dr. Grant entered quietly, carrying a tablet and several thick folders. “Young Master, everything is ready for your fa

Ethan followed Dr. Elias Grant out of the dirty basement clinic, still fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. His boots left muddy prints across the clean hallway floor. The air down here smelled like antiseptic and old metal, mixed with something sour he didn’t want to name. His heart was still hammering from the chaos in that little room. “This has to be a scam,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough. “I came here to sell a kidney. You people are playing some kind of sick joke on a desperate man. That’s it, right? Some rich guy’s idea of entertainment?” Dr. Grant didn’t stop walking or try to argue. He simply placed a steady hand on Ethan’s back and guided him toward a private service elevator that looked completely out of place in this rundown part of the building. The doors were polished stainless steel. The inside had soft lighting and a faint scent of something expensive, like leather and clean wood. The car rose smoothly, almost silently. “You will understand ev