Revenge in a Suit

Chapter 2 – The Return of Blood

The mansion loomed like a beast made of glass and thunder. Lightning cut across the sky, revealing steel gargoyles crouched along the roofline, watching the intruder step through the doors.

Ray hesitated on the marble threshold, water dripping from his coat. It wasn’t just a house. It was a memory that refused to die.

Leon Graham stood at the far end of the foyer, older, sharper, his presence filling the room like gravity.

He looked exactly like Ray remembered, and nothing like the man who’d vanished from his life.

“Close the door,” Leon said. His voice carried the weight of command. “The wind doesn’t belong in here.”

Ray obeyed, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing through the empty hall. For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Then Ray said softly, “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Leon smiled without warmth. “I’m supposed to be many things.”

“I buried you,” Ray snapped. “There was a coffin. There was a funeral!”

“A coffin, yes,” Leon murmured. “But no body. Death is a useful disguise when your enemies prefer bullets to negotiations.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “You let me think you were gone. You let her think that.”

Leon’s expression darkened. “Your mother knew what hiding meant. She made her choice.”

“She died alone,” Ray said, voice breaking. “While you hid in palaces.”

Leon’s eyes softened, barely. “I didn’t want that. But the men who took everything from us would’ve taken you too.”

Ray laughed bitterly. “So you left me to rot instead?”

Leon gestured to the vast room, to portraits watching from the walls. “I left you a name. A legacy. I just didn’t expect you to bury it under someone else’s.”

Ray froze. “What does that mean?”

Leon poured himself a glass of amber whiskey, the sound of ice cracking sharp in the silence. “It means, Ray Graham, that name isn’t just a coincidence. It’s your birthright. And now the world will remember it.”

Ray frowned. “You think I care about some family empire? I’ve spent my life trying to survive while you lived like a ghost.”

“Survive?” Leon’s tone turned cold. “You call that survival, being mocked by the Rosses, humiliated by their daughter, treated like a servant in your own marriage?”

Ray flinched.

Leon’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. “I saw what they did to you,” Leon continued. “The way they stripped you down to nothing. And you let them, Ray. You let them because you didn’t know who you were.”

Ray glared. “I didn’t want to be you.”

Leon’s smile was sharp. “Then be better. Be smarter. But stop pretending you’re not one of us.”

He slid a folder across the table. “Sit.”

Ray didn’t move. Leon raised a brow. “You walked away from a cheating wife. You can face a few papers.”

Reluctantly, Ray sat. He opened the folder. Inside were documents, birth records, estate transfers, business holdings worth billions.

At the bottom, an old photo: a boy standing between Leon and a woman with warm eyes. His mother. He swallowed. “You forged this.”

Leon tapped the page. “That’s your mother’s handwriting. She signed it before she died.”

Ray stared at the ink. It was true. He’d recognize her looping signature anywhere. Leon said quietly, “You were hidden under another name for protection. But the world never forgot. They’re still fighting over what’s left of my empire.”

“Empire,” Ray repeated. “You talk like a movie villain.”

Leon smirked. “If you knew what the Rosses did to steal it, you’d understand.”

Ray pushed the folder away. “I don’t want it.”

“Too late,” Leon said. “You’re already in the game.”

The silence that followed felt heavy. like the air before a detonation. Then the front doors opened again. Cole entered, coat dripping rain. “Sir,” he said to Leon, “we have movement. The Rosses know he’s back.”

Ray turned. “What do you mean, know?”

Cole’s gaze flicked toward him, unreadable. “They sent someone to watch your apartment. They’ll realize soon you’re gone.”

Leon’s tone turned steel. “Let them. It’s time the world remembers who they’re dealing with.”

Ray stood. “I didn’t agree to any of this. I came here for answers, not to start a war.”

Leon met his gaze. “Son, the war started the day you married Daniela Ross.”

Ray’s chest tightened. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

Leon arched a brow. “You still protecting her? After what she did?”

Ray’s jaw worked, but he said nothing. Cole poured himself a coffee at the edge of the room, pretending not to listen. The silence was full of ghosts.

Leon walked closer, his shoes echoing on marble. “Do you know what the Ross family built their empire on?”

Ray crossed his arms. “Old money and politics.”

Leon laughed once, dry. “Try fraud, extortion, and blackmail. When I controlled the Graham Consortium, they were parasites feeding off my contracts. I went underground to stop them. They thought killing me would end it.”

He pointed toward the vast window. Lightning flashed, illuminating the sprawling estate below. “What you see out there, the factories, the tech firms, the shipping lines, they were mine. And they’re still legally under the Graham name. Your name.”

Ray looked up sharply. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you’ve been humiliated long enough.”

Leon’s voice lowered, calm but dangerous. “The world laughed at my son, calling him a charity case, a failure, a nobody. While my enemies used my absence to take everything I built. I want them to see what they created.”

“You want revenge.”

Leon didn’t deny it. “I want justice. And you’re the only one who can take it.”

Ray turned away, pacing. The words hit too close, too fast. “Why me?”

“Because you’re clean,” Leon said. “They think you’re weak. A ghost. That’s your weapon. Nobody sees a ghost coming.”

Ray’s laugh was sharp. “You’re insane if you think I’ll become you. I’m done fighting for people who don’t care.”