All Chapters of The Heir Behind Bars: Chapter 371
- Chapter 380
412 chapters
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-One
Nathan didn’t sleep well that night. The apartment was quiet, but the silence pressed against him like a living thing. He lay awake, mind spinning through the events of the past week — the board meetings, the whispers, the anonymous threats — and through the subtle, ever-present tension within his own family. Every alliance felt conditional, every conversation potentially layered with strategy and deception.By early morning, he rose without a word. Cassandra and Liam had already left for their respective assignments — Cassandra to coordinate media outreach and community liaisons, Liam to monitor operations and potential leak points within the company. Nathan remained alone in the living room, staring out at the city that had begun to stir, its streets slick with remnants of yesterday’s rain, reflections of neon and traffic lights fracturing into rivers across the pavement.He ran through the day’s plan mentally, methodically. Today was crucial. Not just for corporate positioning, but
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Two
The restaurant Cassandra chose was small, tucked between a bookstore and an old tailor’s shop on a street that didn’t attract attention unless you already knew it existed. Warm light spilled through the windows, reflecting softly on wet pavement. Inside, low music hummed beneath quiet conversations, the scent of grilled fish and herbs filling the air.Nathan paused at the entrance before stepping in. It had been a long time since he’d sat anywhere without an agenda waiting for him, without a phone vibrating with updates or a strategist whispering in his ear. Cassandra and Liam were already seated at a corner table. Cassandra lifted her gaze first, offering a faint smile that held relief more than joy. Liam raised a hand in greeting, relaxed in a way Nathan rarely saw during working hours.“You made it,” Cassandra said as he slid into the chair across from her.“Barely,” Nathan admitted. “The city doesn’t slow down just because I want dinner.”“That’s exactly why you need to sit,” Liam
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Three
Morning arrived heavy with heat and tension, the kind that made the city feel like it was holding its breath. Nathan stood in front of the mirror in his apartment, adjusting the cuff of his shirt with slow, precise movements. The quiet around him felt deceptive. After Dana’s call the night before, he knew something had shifted. Not a storm yet, but the air carried that unmistakable pressure before thunder breaks.His phone buzzed. A single message from Cassandra: Press conference moved to noon. Someone leaked the guest list.Nathan stared at the screen for a moment, then slipped the phone into his pocket. Of course they had. Nothing stayed quiet for long anymore.By the time he reached the lobby, Liam was already waiting, leaning casually against a marble column, but Nathan noticed the tension in his shoulders.“You saw it?” Liam asked.“Yeah.” Nathan’s voice stayed even. “Whoever’s pushing Dana is moving faster than I expected.”“Not just Dana,” Liam added, handing him a tablet. “Loo
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Four
Morning crept into the Sterling estate like an uninvited witness. The glass walls caught the pale sunlight and threw it across the marble floor, turning everything silver and cold. Lukas stood near the balcony doors, his phone resting loosely in his hand while the city stirred below him. Traffic hummed far away, distant and harmless, nothing like the quiet tension tightening inside his chest.Behind him, Cassandra watched without speaking. She leaned against the dining table, arms folded, studying the way his shoulders stayed rigid even when he thought he was alone. She knew that posture. It was the same one he wore before every storm.“You didn’t sleep,” she said finally.Lukas did not turn. “I rested.”“That’s not the same thing.”He exhaled slowly and slipped the phone into his pocket. “There’s a difference between needing sleep and needing clarity.”Cassandra walked closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She stopped beside him, close enough to feel the tension radiat
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Five
Late afternoon sunlight stretched across the living room floor, soft and golden, warming the quiet corners of the Sterling estate. Lukas stood near the grand piano, fingers resting lightly on the polished wood, not playing, just listening to the silence settle after the long day. The boardroom confrontation still lingered in his mind, but instead of adrenaline, he felt something slower. Heavier. Real.Behind him, laughter echoed faintly from the kitchen. Cassandra’s voice blended with Eleanor’s, their conversation moving between teasing remarks and serious planning. It felt strange, almost unreal, how naturally the house had begun to feel like a home instead of a battlefield.He walked toward the sound.Cassandra leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, helping Eleanor prepare dinner. The sight alone made him pause. Cassandra rarely allowed herself moments that simple. When she noticed him watching, she tilted her head.“You survived,” she said, a faint smile pulling at her lips
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Six
The next morning unfolded slowly, wrapped in the kind of calm that felt fragile rather than peaceful. Sunlight filtered through the long curtains of the Sterling estate, catching dust motes that drifted lazily in the air. Lukas sat at the dining table with a stack of documents spread before him, but his attention wandered more than usual. The numbers made sense. The strategy held steady. Yet something inside him felt unsettled, as if the rhythm of his life had shifted without warning.Cassandra walked in quietly, barefoot, holding two cups of coffee. She placed one beside him without speaking, then pulled out a chair across from him. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, softer than the composed image she carried in public.“You’ve been staring at that page for ten minutes,” she said.“I’m thinking,” he replied.“That’s what you always say when you don’t want to admit you’re distracted.”He looked up at her, a faint smile touching his lips. “Maybe I am.”She watched him carefull
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Seven
The Sterling estate was unusually quiet the next morning, the kind of silence that followed an emotional storm rather than a peaceful night’s rest. Lukas stood near the tall windows in the study, reading through a set of proposals that blurred together the longer he stared. Outside, the garden shimmered under early sunlight, dew clinging to the roses Cassandra had insisted on keeping despite Eleanor’s preference for simpler landscaping.He closed the file slowly.For the first time in weeks, nothing urgent demanded his attention. No crisis. No boardroom conflict. Just the steady rhythm of a life that was beginning to feel real instead of strategic.Footsteps approached behind him.Cassandra entered with her usual quiet energy, holding a tablet under one arm. She paused when she noticed he wasn’t working as intensely as usual.“You’re taking a break?” she asked, teasing gently.“Thinking,” he replied.“That word again,” she said with a faint laugh. “You use it whenever you don’t want t
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy eight
Rain fell softly against the windows the next morning, turning the gardens of the Sterling estate into a wash of muted greens and silver reflections. Lukas woke earlier than usual, drawn from sleep by a restless energy he could not fully explain. The events of the previous night lingered in his mind, not as pressure, but as a quiet shift. Something inside him had softened, and he was still learning how to exist within that change.He found Cassandra already in the kitchen, standing by the counter with a cup of tea, watching the rain as if it held answers. She turned slightly when she heard him enter.“You look like you actually slept,” she said.“I did,” he admitted. “First time in a while.”She smiled faintly, relief flickering across her face. “Maybe dancing is your new therapy.”“Don’t push your luck,” he replied, though his tone held warmth.They moved around each other easily as they prepared breakfast, a quiet rhythm that felt more like family than strategy. Cassandra handed him
Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Nine
The city had already settled into its evening rhythm when Nathan pulled into the underground garage of the Sterling estate. Rain had started again, a slow drizzle that made the streets shimmer with reflections of neon and headlights. He didn’t rush, letting the engine idle as he stared at the polished concrete walls. Something about the quiet hum of the car, the distant murmur of the city above, always cleared his head.Liam was already there, leaning against his motorcycle, helmet in hand. His posture was casual, but Nathan could feel the tension in the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened whenever he noticed Nathan watching him.“You’re late,” Liam said without looking up.“I needed a minute,” Nathan replied, cutting the engine. The silence hung between them, heavy, almost fragile.Liam finally looked at him, eyebrows raised. “A minute? You mean to think, or you mean to hesitate? Because hesitation doesn’t suit you.”Nathan stepped out of the car, rain soaking his jacket
Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty
The rain had not stopped, but the city lights refracted in the puddles across the asphalt, turning the streets into liquid gold. Nathan led the way through the quiet lanes, Liam close behind, Cassandra’s hand occasionally brushing against his arm as they walked. Every step felt deliberate, a rhythm they all understood, even without speaking.“This way,” Nathan said, pointing toward an unmarked door set into the side of a warehouse. The neon glow from a distant sign flickered across the corrugated metal, giving it an almost ominous shine.Liam’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sure this is the place?”Nathan glanced at him. “I’ve confirmed it three times. Whoever is waiting for us knows we’re coming, but they won’t expect all three of us together.”Cassandra adjusted her grip on his arm. “I don’t like this,” she said softly. “Something about it feels too… staged.”Nathan stopped for a moment, letting the words hang. “That’s the point,” he said. “If it feels staged, that means someone wants us r