Bullshit Son Reborn as an Octomillionaire Tycoon

CHAPTER 4

The bodyguards' grip on Harry's arms was like iron, their faces expressionless as they held him in place. Harry's chest heaved with panic as he looked around the room at his family's cold, determined faces.

"Please," Harry gasped, his voice breaking. "You can't do this to me. I'm your son, your brother!"

"You're being dramatic," Melissa said dismissively, not even looking at him as she fussed over Frank's blankets. "The doctor said you won't die."

"Frank needs this more than you do," Terry added coldly. "Stop being selfish."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, you're acting like such a baby. It's just surgery."

"Just surgery?" Harry's voice cracked with disbelief. "They're taking my heart!"

"And giving you a new one," Emma said impatiently. "What's the big deal?"

Frank smiled weakly from his hospital bed. "Harry, I'm so grateful. You're saving my life."

"This is what family does," Melissa cooed, stroking Frank's forehead. "We sacrifice for each other."

But I'm the only one sacrificing, Harry thought desperately. I'm always the only one sacrificing.

Mona stepped forward, her voice cool and practical. "Harry, if you're not going to die from donating, why are you resisting? Frank is the one who's actually suffering here."

Harry's legs gave out, and he sank to the hospital floor, the bodyguards still gripping his arms. He looked up at his former fiancée with hollow eyes.

"What do I actually have, Mona?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mona blinked, taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"

"You said Frank is pitiful and I have everything. So tell me—what exactly do I have?"

Mona's expression hardened. "You have a fiancée, the family fortune, parents who raised you, sisters who—"

Harry let out a bitter laugh that cut her off. "A fiancée? You mean the woman who forgot our wedding day to rush to another man's bedside? The woman who just agreed to marry my brother?"

Mona's face flushed, but she said nothing.

"The family fortune?" Harry continued, his voice growing stronger. "When have I ever seen a penny of it? When have I ever been given any control or say in family business?"

Terry's jaw tightened. "Harry, that's enough."

"Parents who raised me?" Harry's eyes blazed as he looked at Terry and Melissa. "You mean the parents who slap me, call me worthless, and now want to carve out my heart for their favorite son?"

"You're being ungrateful," Melissa snapped. "We took you back when you returned."

"Sisters?" Harry looked at Sarah and Emma. "You mean the ones who mock me every chance they get and treat me like I'm some kind of intruder in my own family?"

"That's because you are," Sarah said coldly. "Frank is our real brother."

Harry stared at them all, the truth finally crystal clear. "So tell me again, Mona—what exactly do I have?"

Mona opened and closed her mouth, unable to find words.

"You're just being ungrateful," she finally managed, her voice weak. "Your family loves you."

"Love?" Harry laughed bitterly. "This is what you call love?"

Suddenly, Harry felt a sharp pain in his neck. His vision began to blur as dizziness washed over him.

"What did you—" Harry slurred, his head spinning.

Terry stepped back, a small syringe in his hand. "It's for Frank's sake. We can't let you run away and abandon your brother."

"You... drugged me?" Harry's words came out thick and distorted.

"Just a mild sedative," Terry said coldly. "To keep you calm during prep."

Harry's body felt heavy, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves. The voices around him became muffled and distant.

I can't move, Harry realized with growing panic. I can't fight back.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, Harry heard whispered voices near his ear. Through his hazy state, he recognized Frank's voice, but it sounded different—sharper, more calculating.

"The timing has to be perfect," Frank was saying quietly to someone. "Once Harry's in surgery, there's no going back."

"Are you sure about this?" came another voice—the doctor's. "If anyone finds out—"

"No one will find out," Frank hissed. "Harry will be dead, and I'll inherit everything. My heart is perfectly fine—the tests we showed them were fake."

What? Harry's mind struggled to process what he was hearing through the drug-induced fog.

"The bribed lab results were expensive," Frank continued, "but worth every penny. As long as Harry remains the heir, I can't get full control of the Solomon fortune."

He's lying, Harry realized with horror. Frank isn't sick at all. This is all a setup to kill me.

Harry's body trembled with rage, but he could barely move. The sedative kept him paralyzed while his mind raced with the terrible truth.

Dr. Martinez noticed Harry's slight movement and checked his pulse. "He's waking up."

Frank's eyes snapped to Harry's face, seeing the awareness there. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

Harry summoned every ounce of strength he had left and forced himself to sit up. "You... you're not sick," he gasped.

Frank's expression shifted instantly back to his innocent mask. "Harry, you're delirious from the medication."

"I heard you!" Harry struggled to his feet, swaying. "You bribed the doctor! You're trying to kill me!"

"Harry's hallucinating," Frank said quickly to the family. "The sedative is affecting his mind."

Terry stepped forward. "Son, you need to rest—"

"No!" Harry broke away from the bodyguards' loosened grip and stumbled toward the door. "I have to tell everyone the truth!"

Frank's eyes flashed with panic. He grabbed his phone and speed-dialed a number.

"Time for Plan B," Frank said into the phone, his voice deadly calm. "He knows. Take care of it."

Harry burst through the hospital room door and ran down the hallway, his vision still blurry from the drugs.

I have to expose him, Harry thought desperately. I have to tell someone what Frank is doing.

But even as he ran, Harry knew the horrible truth—his family would never believe him. They would choose Frank over him, just like they always had.

I have nowhere to go, Harry realized with crushing despair. No one will help me.

As Harry stumbled out of the hospital into the dark parking lot, several figures emerged from the shadows. Masked men in dark clothing moved toward him with practiced efficiency.

"There he is," one of them growled.

Harry tried to run, but the sedative had weakened him too much. Strong hands grabbed him from behind, and a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose.

"Frank sends his regards," the man whispered as Harry's world went black.

The last thing Harry saw was the rope binding his wrists before he was dragged into the back of a waiting van.