Just Chris Winchester

Chapter 2

For five years, his father, David Winchester, had been trying to convince Chris to return home and claim his position as heir to WR Quantum Corp, a trillion dollar conglomerate that dominated technology, real estate, and manufacturing across three continents. The company had been built by Chris's grandfather and expanded by his father into an empire that rivaled small nations in wealth and influence.

But Chris had walked away from all of it when he was twenty years old, and he had no intention of going back.

"Young master, your father anticipated your refusal," William said carefully. "He told me you would not forgive him easily, and he understands why."

"Does he?" Chris's voice was cold. "Does he understand that my mother died of cancer while he was getting married to another woman? Does he understand that she spent her last months in pain, asking for him, and he never came?"

William's professional mask cracked slightly. "Your mother took you and left many years ago, young master. When your father's business ventures failed and he went bankrupt, she said she couldn't afford to stay with a broke man. She took everything she could and disappeared with you."

Chris fell silent. He knew this part of the story, had heard it from his mother's own lips during her final days. She had been wealthy, from old money, and when his father lost everything in a bad investment, she had left without looking back. She had raised Chris in modest comfort on what remained of her family fortune, never letting him contact his father.

But that didn't excuse what happened later.

"She left him," Chris said quietly. "And when she got sick, she reached out. She asked him for help, for money for treatments. He sent nothing. He was too busy building his new empire with his new wife."

"He sent money," William countered gently. "Every month. Your mother returned every check unopened."

Chris stared at him. "You're lying."

"I have the bank records, young master. Your father never stopped trying to help, but your mother's pride wouldn't allow it. She wanted him to come in person, to beg. He wanted to respect her wishes for distance. By the time he learned how serious her illness was, it was too late."

The words hit Chris like physical blows. Could it be true? Had his mother's pride cost her the help she needed? Had she let Chris believe his father abandoned them when the truth was more complicated?

"Get in the car, young master," William said softly. "I'll take you wherever you want to go. Your home, the penthouse, anywhere. You don't have to see your father tonight if you're not ready."

Chris stood frozen for a long moment, then walked to the car. "Take me home."

"Your father prepared the penthouse for—"

"I said take me home," Chris growled.

"Yes, young master."

The drive through the city was silent except for the whisper of the engine. Chris stared out the window, watching the streets transform from the commercial district near the police station to the modest neighborhood where he lived with Vera. His mind churned with William's revelations, with the memory of his mother's final days, with the confusion of everything he thought he knew being turned upside down.

"Your father loves you," William said suddenly. "He's made many mistakes, I won't deny that. But everything he's built, he built it thinking of you. The company was nearly destroyed when your mother left. He was broken, bankrupt, and alone. But he rebuilt it all because he hoped one day you would come home and he could give you the empire you deserved."

"I never wanted an empire," Chris said. "I wanted a father."

"Then give him a chance to be one."

The car pulled up outside Chris's apartment building. It looked even more rundown next to the Rolls Royce, the peeling paint and broken front window suddenly glaring in contrast to the luxury vehicle.

Chris opened the door and paused. "Thank you, William. For everything you told me tonight. I need time to think about it."

"Of course, young master. I'll be available whenever you need me."

Chris walked into his building and climbed the stairs to the third floor. He could hear voices before he even opened his apartment door. Loud, familiar, and unwelcome.

He pushed the door open and stopped.

His in laws were still there, seated in his living room like they owned the place. Margaret occupied the best chair, Richard stood by the window with a glass of Chris's whiskey, and Johnson sprawled on the couch with his feet on Chris's coffee table. Vera sat in the corner, her face pale and exhausted.

But what made Chris's blood boil was the fourth person in the room.

Victor Kane sat next to Vera, too close, his arm stretched along the back of the couch behind her shoulders. He was handsome in a polished way, with styled blonde hair and an expensive suit that probably cost more than Chris earned in six months. Victor owned a small tech startup that had recently secured some investors, and he'd been circling Vera like a shark for the past year.

The conversation stopped when Chris entered. Vera stood immediately and crossed the room to him, her arms wrapping around him in a tight hug.

"Chris, are you okay? What happened? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," he said, hugging her back despite his anger at the others in the room. "The charges were dropped. It was all a mistake."

"A mistake," Margaret scoffed. "The only mistake was my daughter marrying you in the first place."

They resumed their conversation as if Chris wasn't there, as if he was a ghost haunting his own home.

"Listen, Vera," Margaret said, leaning forward with her hands clasped. "Chris will only ruin this family's reputation. He's only here for your money and has nothing to offer. You should marry Victor instead. He's successful, he comes from a good family, and he can give you the life you deserve."

"Your mother is right, Vera," Victor added smoothly, his eyes never leaving her face. "I can provide for you in ways Chris never could. My company is about to close a major deal. I have connections, resources. Think about your future."

"How do you cope with such a leech, little sister?" Johnson chimed in, his voice dripping with disdain. "He's a parasite, living off your family's charity. You could do so much better."

Chris stood in his own doorway, listening to them dissect his worth like he was livestock at auction. He wanted to tell them the truth, to reveal that he had more money in his bank account than all of them combined would see in their lifetimes. That he was the heir to an empire that made their modest family business look like a lemonade stand.

But revealing his identity now would be stupid. It would show his hand before he was ready to play it. So he swallowed his pride and walked further into the room.

"Good evening, Mom," he said to Margaret, his voice carefully neutral.

She didn't even look at him.

Chris moved toward the bedroom, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. Victor stood suddenly, blocking his path.

"Running away like a baby chicken, huh?" Victor's smile was predatory. "Can't handle hearing the truth about yourself?"

"Move," Chris said quietly. "Or you'll regret this."

"What are you going to do?" Victor laughed. "Hit me? Go ahead. Give Vera's family another reason to kick you to the curb."

Something in Chris snapped. Three years of insults, of being treated like dirt, of watching his wife be pressured to leave him. Three years of biting his tongue and staying humble. It erupted out of him in a burst of movement.

His fist connected with Victor's jaw before he could think better of it. Victor stumbled backward, shock replacing his smug expression. Then Victor surged forward, throwing a wild punch that caught Chris on the nose. Pain exploded across his face, and he tasted blood.

"Stop it!" Vera screamed, pushing between them. "Both of you, stop!"

She grabbed Chris's arm and pulled him toward the bedroom, leaving Victor smirking despite his split lip. Margaret was already on her phone, probably calling her lawyer. Richard shook his head in disgust. Johnson laughed like this was the best entertainment he'd had in months.

In the bedroom, Vera closed the door and guided Chris to sit on the bed. She grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and began gently cleaning the blood from his face.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered. "You know they're just looking for reasons to come after you."

"He deserved it," Chris said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe. But now they're going to use this against you."

Her hands were gentle as she cleaned his wounds, and despite everything, Chris felt grateful for her. She didn't believe the lies her family told about him. She had stayed by his side when it would have been easier to walk away.

As she taped a bandage across his nose, Chris made a silent promise.

Victor Kane would pay for this. For the humiliation, for pursuing his wife, for everything. Chris would make sure Victor lost everything he valued, piece by piece, until he understood what it felt like to be treated like nothing.

"All done," Vera said softly. "Try not to get into any more fights, okay?"

Chris nodded, but his mind was already spinning with plans.

Victor had no idea who he had just made an enemy of, and when he found out, it would be far too late.