PRICE OF REGRET

CHAPTER 3 – The Heir’s Trial

The morning air over Foreman Tower was thick with tension. Glass and steel soared above the skyline, glinting in the rising sun like a blade poised over the city.

Jake Foreman stood at the base of it all, suit crisp, eyes cold. He looked nothing like the man who’d walked out of Daniela’s penthouse the night before. The valet opened the door. “Welcome back, Mr. Foreman.”

Jake nodded once and stepped inside. Inside the lobby, whispers trailed him. Executives, assistants, even security guards stole glances, some curious, others fearful. His face was familiar from old photographs, but his name was legend.

The elevator doors closed. A woman’s voice filled the air. “Floor fifty-seven, Board of Directors.”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Let’s end this.”

The boardroom was a theater of wealth, mahogany table, panoramic city view, twelve directors seated like judges at an inquisition. Lawrence Foreman sat at the head, cane resting across his lap.

“Gentlemen,” Lawrence said, “and ladies. Meet your new heir, Jake Foreman.”

Murmurs rippled across the room. A gray-haired man sneered. “Heir? You mean the runaway? The one who turned his back on the family?”

Another chimed in. “We’re supposed to hand over billions to someone who’s been off the grid for years?”

Lawrence’s tone dropped, cutting through the noise. “You’ll hand over what’s mine to give.”

Jake stayed silent, scanning faces. Predators, every one of them. Finally, a woman in a scarlet jacket leaned forward.

“Mr. Foreman, what exactly qualifies you to sit here? You’ve never led a company, never signed a deal, never even held stock in your own name.”

Jake smiled faintly. “You’re right. But I’ve spent a lifetime watching people like you. I know every way greed disguises itself as loyalty.”

“Bold words,” she said. “But talk is cheap.”

Jake’s gaze locked on hers. “So’s betrayal. But we both know how expensive it gets once the truth comes out.”

The room went quiet. Lawrence’s lips twitched. “You heard him. He’s not here to beg.”

Outside, the world was buzzing. Social media exploded with the news: “Foreman Conglomerate Heir Returns.”

Headlines screamed, rumors churned. Across town, in a small café, Daniela Alvarez froze mid-sip of her latte as her friend slid her phone across the table. “Isn’t this your ex?”

Daniela’s eyes narrowed at the photo, Jake stepping out of a black car, flanked by security, confidence radiating off him like a weapon. “No,” she said automatically, but her voice trembled. “That can’t be him.”

The article headline said otherwise: “Jake Foreman, The Hidden Heir of a Billion-Dollar Dynasty.”

Her stomach dropped. Her friend whistled. “Looks like your ‘nobody’ wasn’t so nobody after all.”

Daniela forced a laugh, but her hand shook as she set the cup down. “He must’ve… known someone. This isn’t real.”

Yet deep down, something inside her cracked open, a memory of his quiet eyes, his patience, the way he’d endured every insult without a word. She’d thought it was weakness. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Back in the boardroom, the meeting had turned into a storm. One director slammed a folder on the table. “This is absurd! He hasn’t proven anything.”

Lawrence’s voice cut through again. “That’s what today is for.”

He turned to Jake. “The contract on the table, Project Easton. $1.2 billion. Everyone wants it. Show them why I chose you.”

Jake opened the folder. Inside: financials, risks, projections. He scanned it once, twice, and then, smirked. “This deal’s a trap,” he said simply.

The board members exchanged looks. “Excuse me?”

Jake tapped the page. “Clause 14-C. Offshore manufacturing under a shell company. That’s a front. They’re laundering through three other firms tied to a man named Royce Henley.”

The scarlet-jacketed woman frowned. “How would you even”

“Because I built the model,” Jake cut in. “Ten years ago. Before I left the tech sector. Henley stole it.”

Lawrence’s eyes gleamed. “Continue.”

Jake leaned back. “If you sign this, you hand over 20% of Foreman assets to a man who’ll gut you within a year. But if you stall and expose it quietly, Henley collapses and we buy him out at half price.”

The room went silent again, this time with disbelief and a hint of respect. “How long did it take you to see that?” someone asked finally.

Jake looked at his watch. “About thirty seconds.”

Lawrence chuckled softly. “Gentlemen, do you still think he’s unqualified?”

The tension broke. One by one, the directors leaned back, recalculating. Power had shifted, subtly but completely.

The gray-haired man who’d mocked him earlier cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps we underestimated”

“Don’t apologize,” Jake said calmly. “Just make sure you don’t underestimate me again.”

Lawrence smiled faintly, pride flickering behind his eyes. “I believe that concludes the trial.”

He stood slowly, cane striking the floor. “Effective immediately, Jake Foreman will assume provisional authority over all major operations. The board will answer to him.”

Gasps echoed. Protests rose. “You can’t”

“This is madness”

“Foreman, he’ll destroy us!”

Jake’s voice sliced through them. “Then pray I build something better.”

He gathered the folder, closed it with a snap, and turned for the door. Lawrence’s voice followed him. “Where are you going?”

Jake didn’t look back. “To see the city I’m supposed to own.”

Outside, the tower loomed above him, cold and magnificent. The wind caught his coat as he stepped onto the sidewalk, cameras flashing from across the street. Reporters shouted his name.

“Mr. Foreman! Is it true you’re taking control?”

“Are you back for revenge?”

“Will the Foreman legacy rise again?”

Jake ignored them all, until one question cut through the chaos. “Is it true your ex-wife regrets losing you?”

He froze, jaw tightening, before turning toward the voice. “I don’t live in regret,” he said quietly. “I live in results.”

The cameras erupted. Flashes lit the air. From the top floor, Lawrence watched through the window, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Beside him, his assistant whispered, “He’s going to change everything, isn’t he?”

Lawrence’s smile faded. “If he survives it.”

That afternoon, the markets trembled. Shares rose. Every headline carried the same name, Jake Foreman.

And somewhere, in the Alvarez mansion, Daniela stared at her phone, eyes wide as a news alert blinked across the screen: FOREMAN HEIR TAKES CONTROL OF GLOBAL EMPIRE.

Her hand tightened around the glass until it cracked.

Hours later, in the quiet of his new office, Jake stood before the same city skyline that once mocked him. His phone buzzed. Unknown number again. He answered. “Foreman.”

A woman’s voice, calm, familiar, and cold, whispered through the line. “So the ghost returns.”

Jake froze. “Who is this?”

The line crackled. “Someone who’s been waiting for you to come home.”

The call ended. Jake stared at the phone, pulse steady, mind racing. Whoever she was, she knew him. And the war he’d just won… might only be the beginning.