HOUSEKEEPER TO HEIR

CHAPTER FOUR: SONS OF EMPIRE

The press conference was scheduled for noon.

By 11:58 a.m., every major news outlet in the city had swarmed the Wynthorpe International headquarters. Cameras flashed. Security buzzed. Onlookers crowded outside the gates hoping to catch a glimpse of the heir the world had written off.

Inside the boardroom, Alaric Wynthorpe sat in his oxygen chair, flanked by aides and medics. His eyes, though weary, burned with purpose. The silence was thick, he hadn’t addressed the media in over two years.

But this moment wasn’t about him, It was about the man standing just outside the stage curtain, hands clenched at his sides. Grayson Wynthorpe.

He wore a tailored black suit borrowed from Alaric’s private wardrobe, his hair slicked back, a single scar across his jaw from a fight Lucien started years ago. The suit felt like armor. The scar, a crown.

“You don’t have to do this,” Emmett said beside him.

“I do,” Grayson replied. “They’ve controlled the story long enough. Time to write my own.”

Across town, the Everhart mansion was in chaos, Lucien hurled a crystal tumbler across the room, smashing it into the fireplace. “He’s actually going public?!”

Clive stood, calm as ever, sipping brandy. “They’re playing a dangerous game,” Lucien spat. “This could sway investors, media, even the board”

“It won’t,” Clive interrupted. “Because I’ve already moved our next piece.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes. “What piece?”

Clive smiled faintly. “You’ll see.”

Back at Wynthorpe HQ, the doors opened, The press surged forward as Alaric was wheeled onto the platform. He raised a hand, frail, yet commanding. The room fell silent.

“Thirty years ago,” Alaric began, “my world shattered. My wife was murdered. My son was stolen. For decades, I searched. I grieved. I built an empire, but lost the only thing that mattered.”

He paused.

“And then… he returned.”

A collective murmur rose from the crowd as Grayson stepped onto the platform.

Click, Flash, Click, Flash. Alaric stood slowly, leaning on his cane, and placed a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. “This… is Grayson Wynthorpe. My son. My heir.”

Reporters burst into motion. “Grayson, how did you survive?”

“Where have you been all these years?”

“Do you have proof?”

“What about the criminal allegations surfacing online?”

Grayson stepped up to the mic, His voice was steady. “I was raised in the shadows of people who thought silence was a leash. I scrubbed their floors. I slept in a closet. I was beaten, shamed, and broken… but I survived.”

More flashes. More gasps, He continued. “I didn’t ask for a crown. But if I have to wear it to reclaim what’s mine… then so be it. And to those spreading lies about me, fabricated crimes, edited footage, I say this…”

He leaned in, cold fire in his voice. “Try harder.”

The news hit like a bomb, Within an hour, every channel, app, and platform was filled with headlines:

“WYNTHORPE HEIR SPEAKS- ‘TRY HARDER’ VIDEO GOES VIRAL”

“FROM HOUSEKEEPER TO HEIR: THE GRAYSON REVEAL”

“ALLEGED ORPHAN BREAKS SILENCE ON BILLIONAIRE BLOODLINE”

Some celebrated., Some questioned, All watched, And in the shadows… some prepared to strike, Later that evening, in a darkened garage beneath the city, a man reviewed surveillance images.

Photos of Grayson. Emmett. Alaric. The safehouse, Another man stepped into the light. “Orders?”

The first man, wearing gloves and a bulletproof vest, smiled coldly. “Kidnap the heir. Discredit the legacy. And if that fails, end it.”

Meanwhile, in Alaric’s penthouse, Grayson stood alone on the balcony, The city lights below looked like a sea of fireflies. For once, he wasn’t beneath them.

Alaric stepped out beside him, slower now, chest rising with effort. “You did well,” the old man said. “Better than I ever could have.”

Grayson didn’t respond immediately. Then: “What happens now?”

Alaric gazed into the night. “Now, the wolves come.”

Sure enough, the next morning, a bombshell report dropped.

“DNA TEST RESULTS FAKE? Insider Claims Wynthorpe Announcement Was a Setup!”

The article accused Alaric of faking results to leave his empire to a stranger, The source? Lucien Everhart.

Complete with forged documents, paid analysts, and a doctored witness statement from a “former Wynthorpe lab technician.”

Grayson slammed the tablet onto the table. “Is this all they’ve got? Lies?”

Emmett frowned. “Sometimes lies scream louder than truth.”

Alaric entered the room, coughing into a cloth. When he removed it, blood dotted the fabric. “They’re going for character assassination now,” he said. “The next step is worse.”

“What?”

“Physical.”

Grayson stiffened. “You mean”

“They’ll try to remove you. Permanently. Before the board can formally confirm you as heir.”

That night, Grayson couldn’t sleep, He wandered the halls of the penthouse, thoughts spinning like knives. What if they succeeded? What if he disappeared again, this time, without a trace?

He opened the study door and froze, A man stood by the desk, slipping something into a drawer. “Hey!” Grayson barked.

The man turned and bolted, Grayson chased him down the hallway, through the stairwell, until they burst into the underground garage, But it was a trap, Two more men appeared from behind the cars, tasers in hand. Zap.

Grayson hit the ground, Darkness swallowed him whole.