Revenge Of The Billionaire Heir

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The cell smelled like sweat, rust, and hopelessness.

It was colder than Declan expected, even though it was midsummer outside.

The officers had thrown him inside like garbage, slamming the door without a glance.

Hours passed. It was hard to tell how long the only light came from a dim bulb flickering above his head. He sat in a corner on the hard concrete floor, arms wrapped around himself. His face still hurt from Stefan’s punches, and dried blood clung to his lip.

He finally stood and walked toward the metal bars.

“When will I be allowed to go home?” he asked the guards outside.

One of the officers didn’t even look at him.

“Bail is 10,000 dollars.”

Declan’s heart thudded painfully.

Ten thousand? He didn’t even have a hundred.

“I want a lawyer,” he said quietly.

The guards burst into laughter.

“A lawyer?” one mocked. “You think a public lawyer can go against the mayor’s team? Kid, you’re dreaming.”

Another officer unlocked the gate, stepped inside, and pulled him forward. They stripped him of everything ,his shirt, shoes, belt and leaving him only in threadbare shorts.

“Enjoy the floor,” the guard said.

Then they shoved him into a deeper cell which was darker, colder.

Declan slid to the ground, teeth clenched.

He closed his eyes and wished he had never gone to see Tahlia.

A stupid necklace.

A stupid goodbye.

Now he was trapped here, waiting for a future that already felt broken.

Tomorrow was his final medical school exam and the last step before internship, automatic placement, and a Royal Award ceremony that could secure his future.

If he missed it… everything he had worked for would be gone.

Rumors said Stefan would get the award anyway, since the system was unfair and their fathers were powerful friends. But Declan needed the internship more than pride but he needed it to survive.

He looked around.

Three other inmates sat across from him, one was older, much bigger.

Bald heads. Heavy tattoos. Scarred knuckles.

They watched him like hungry wolves sizing up prey.

Declan felt their eyes, but he didn’t flinch.

After everything he had been through, fear felt small.

One of them stepped closer. He was tall, muscular, with a silver ring through his nose and piercings running across his brows. He dragged on a cigarette made from torn paper and tobacco.

“What are you here for?” the man asked, smoke curling from his lips.

“Fighting,” Declan replied.

The man raised a brow. “Only that? Then why put you in here… with murderers like us?”

Declan only shrugged. He didn’t have an answer.

The man chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. You still gotta pay a fine for being in our space.”

Declan shook his head slowly.

“I don’t have money.”

The man’s eyes dropped to Declan’s hand , where the old emerald ring still sat safely.

“That ring,” he said. “Give it to me.”

Declan’s pulse skipped.

“No. You can’t have this. Please.”

He held the ring tightly, fingers curling around it.

“I’ll do anything… anything else, but not this. My grandma gave it to me before she died yesterday.”

His voice trembled.

It was the first time he said that out loud since yesterdayIt still didn’t feel real,The man shrugged coldly.

“No pity here. Then how do you plan to pay us?”

Declan looked around the cell.

Their bodies were covered with fresh bruises, swollen knees, old wounds. Their muscles were tense with pain.

He inhaled slowly.

“I’m a medical student,” he said. “I know Chinese and Indian healing methods. I can treat injuries… help your bodies recover.”

The man blinked, surprised.

He looked at his friends, then back at Declan.

“If you’re lying, we break your pretty face,” he warned.

Declan nodded. “Deal.”

So, in that freezing cell, he spent hours working.

He massaged swollen joints, pressed pressure points, guided breathing, used stretches he learned from stable work. He tore bits of worn cloth into makeshift wraps and tied them carefully around strained muscles.

The men hissed in pain and then relaxed when the aches eased.

Little by little, tension left their bodies.

By dawn, the bald man leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

“Feels… good,” he muttered.

His gang members grunted in agreement.

Declan’s own limbs were sore and his hands ached, but he remained awake as long as he could. Finally, exhaustion swallowed him. He lay down on the cold floor, using his arm as a pillow.

No one touched him.

The inmates let him sleep silently like he had earned a place among them.

When morning filtered into the cell, his eyes opened slowly.

Every bone hurt, but he was alive and the ring was still on his finger.

A loud bang hit the bars.

“Hey! You …out,” a guard barked. “Someone paid your bail.”

Declan sat up quickly, confused.

“Are you sure?” he asked, sleep still heavy in his voice.

“Yes,” the guard snapped. “Get moving.”

The inmates whistled and laughed.

“Look at you, doctor boy,” one teased.

“Come visit,” another said. “If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

Declan managed a tired smile and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Next time,” their leader added, “bring food.”

Declan chuckled quietly.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate properly.

He slipped his clothes back on which was wrinkled, dirty, but familiar and stepped into the hallway. He half expected to see Tahlia waiting, remorseful.

But she wasn’t there.

Instead…

Standing near the exit was a stunning woman dressed in a white suit that fit her perfectly. High heel Louboutin designer boots, pale blonde hair pulled into a sleek bun, skin glowing like she stepped out of another world.

Her posture was straight, elegant, and commanding.

She looked like someone who did not belong anywhere near a police station.

When she saw Declan, she smiled warmly and bowed her head slightly.

“Good morning, young master,” she said gently. “I sincerely apologize for this grave inconvenience.”

Declan stood still for a minute to digest what was going on.

Young master? Was she still referring to him?

Who was she?

And why did someone like her come for him?