The massive iron gates groaned open, welcoming the sleek black Bentley into the Hayes estate. Towering marble pillars framed the grand entrance, and the manicured lawns stretched like a sea of green beneath the cold afternoon sun. But for Nathan, the estate felt more like a gilded cage.He stepped out, boots crunching against the stone driveway. He caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the polished glass doors — prison pallor, collar frayed, eyes that hadn’t known sleep in days. A pair of gardeners paused at the hedges to stare before quickly looking away and muttering to each other.Inside, the foyer glowed with warmth and the scent of expensive cologne. Polished wood, chandeliers, and the hush of soft laughter drifting in from the drawing room. Nathan took one step onto the marble floor, and the hush turned into a chill that seeped into his bones.A servant bustled past with a tray of drinks but swerved abruptly when Nathan reached for one. The man’s eyes swept over Nathan’s worn

Nathan stood still in the hallway. Above him, the chandelier’s golden light shone on his dirty shirt and cast broken shadows on the marble walls, like the cracks he felt inside.Behind him, he could hear laughter and the gentle clinking of glasses coming from the dining room — a warmth that didn’t belong to him. But Cassandra’s quiet “Good boy” still dug into him like a knife that hadn’t finished cutting.He looked down at his thumb, pressing it against the fresh cut on his finger. The pain helped him stay calm. Prison had taught him how to hide pain, to bury it deep inside. But tonight, the Hayes family had ripped it open again, showing his wounds among their fancy plates and shiny floors.He walked down the hall, his boots hitting the marble floor loud as distant gunshots. The portraits on the walls seemed to glare at him — ancestors in fancy gold frames, their cold eyes saying: You don’t belong here.At the end of the hall, he opened the door to the maid’s room. The hinges squeaked

Nathan stumbled back into the maid’s room, the door creaking shut behind him like a prison gate slamming closed. Liam’s lie, that Nathan was a drug dealer, spun just to win favor with the family, burned in his chest. It stung more than any scar on his wrist. The words rang in his ears like a cruel chant: Menace, thief, convict.He sank onto the narrow cot, its springs groaning beneath him, and buried his face in his hands. The betrayal wasn’t new, but now it felt heavier, like a stone lodged in his ribs, making it hard to breathe.He stared up at the ceiling where a noose-shaped stain mocked him in the dim flicker of the overhead bulb. Five years behind bars, carrying the weight of Liam’s crime, and now this. A lie so bold it had rewritten his name in the Hayes family’s records.His fingers twitched, aching to reach for the old journal hidden beneath the bed. Inside were names and debts, fragments of a past street life that used to give him purpose. But he didn’t reach for it. Not ye

The Hayes estate glittered with luxury. The grand ballroom had been turned into a showpiece for Liam’s latest event, a charity auction. Everything sparkled: chandeliers poured down golden light, silk-covered tables lined the floor, and guests in designer clothes sipped champagne worth more than Nathan’s five years in prison. He weaved through the crowd with a tray of drinks, his calloused hands steady despite the memories of hard labor. The vest clung uncomfortably against skin that remembered sweat and grime. He was the true Hayes heir—but to Liam, and everyone else, he was a joke. Just a servant. A convict. Invisible.Liam took center stage, his voice loud and confident as he auctioned off expensive wine and rare cars. Every sale made him look even more like the perfect heir. He wore a sharp tuxedo, his hair styled, and his smile cruel. Nathan kept his head down, trying to go unnoticed, but Liam’s eyes still found him, like a wolf spotting prey.As Nathan passed a group of investo

The Hayes estate’s grand dining hall sparkled with luxury. A long oak table placed in the center of the room, piled high with silver platters and crystal goblets that glinted beneath the golden chandelier lights. It wasn’t just a dinner, it was a display of power. Around the table sat relatives and business partners, dressed in silk dresses and crisp suits, their laughter bouncing off the marble walls like a well-rehearsed show. Nathan moved through them quietly, an oil-stained rag in hand, wiping up spilled wine from the table’s edge.Though he was the blood heir, no one treated him like it. That truth stayed heavy on his shoulders. To them, he was just a servant in a faded shirt, a reminder of scandal they wished would disappear. His presence was a joke, and they all seemed in on it but him.At the head of it all sat Liam, his voice booming over the feast as he raised a toast to the Hayes name. He wasn’t born into the family, but he wore the title of heir like he’d been born wearin