SECRETLY The Billionaire Tycoon

REVENGE IS Eternal

Rain hit the pavement like bullets.

Adrian stood on the sidewalk outside the Thornton mansion, the jade pendant cold in his palm. Five years ago, his father had pressed this into his hand before exiling him. "Survive as nothing," the old man had said. "Then maybe you'll understand what it takes to rule everything."

He'd survived. God, how he'd survived.

Headlights cut through the rain. Not one car. Ten. A motorcade of black Mercedes-Benz S-Class vehicles rolling down the quiet street like a military convoy. Neighbors stepped onto porches. Phones came out. The lead car stopped directly in front of Adrian.

Ryker Cross emerged from the passenger seat. Six-foot-three, built like he still fought in underground rings, wearing a suit that cost more than most people's cars. He walked straight to Adrian and dropped to one knee on the wet pavement.

"Welcome back, Mr. Kane. Five years too long, sir."

Adrian pulled him up. "Get off the ground, Ryker. You're not a servant."

"With respect, sir, you're not pretending anymore." Ryker opened an umbrella over Adrian's head, shielding him from the rain. "The king doesn't get wet unless he chooses to."

Twenty bodyguards exited the other vehicles. They lined up in formation, pristine despite the downpour. Ryker gestured to the lead car. "Your transport, sir. And this—" He handed Adrian a tablet. "—is everything you asked me to maintain."

Adrian took it. Swiped through the screens. Numbers that would make most people dizzy. Holdings that stretched across continents. Power buried so deep that governments didn't know who actually moved their economies.

"Eight hundred forty-seven billion in total assets," Ryker said. "Kane Industries. Shadow Capital. Titan Properties. Apex Global Technologies. All waiting for your command."

"And the Thorntons?" Adrian's voice was flat. Emotionless.

"Thornton Enterprises is barely holding on. Your subsidiary, Titan Properties, holds their primary debt. Five hundred million dollars."

"They don't know it's mine?"

"Buried under twelve layers of shell corporations. As far as they know, they're succeeding on their own merit." Ryker smiled grimly. "Thornton thinks he built his empire. He doesn't realize he's been living in yours the whole time."

"Keep it that way." Adrian handed back the tablet. "Let them celebrate. Let them think they're winning."

Above them, Kyle Thornton appeared at a window, phone pressed against the glass. His voice carried through the rain as he narrated to his followers: "Guys, you're not gonna believe this! My loser ex-brother-in-law hired a bunch of cars to look rich! This is next-level pathetic! Hashtag FakeItTillYouMakeIt!"

Ryker's jaw tightened. "Sir, one word and I'll—"

"Leave him." Adrian climbed into the car. "Social media memory is short. But revenge? Revenge is eternal."

The motorcade moved through the city. Adrian watched the streets pass—streets he'd walked as a nobody, delivering food to people who didn't look at his face. Now those same streets bent around his convoy. Traffic stopped. People stared.

They arrived at Apex Tower. The city's tallest building, a obsidian monolith that pierced the skyline like a blade. Most people knew the building. Nobody knew who owned it. Adrian had made certain of that.

The underground garage opened without Ryker needing to call ahead. Security systems recognized the vehicle before it entered. They parked in a private section sealed off from the rest of the structure.

The elevator required five different biometric scans. As they ascended, employees began appearing on every floor. Dozens of them, lining the atriums visible through the glass elevator shaft, bowing as Adrian passed.

"Welcome home, Mr. Kane."

The words echoed through the building. A hundred voices. Two hundred. People he'd never met, who'd worked for him while he scrubbed floors for people who called him worthless.

Ryker watched him carefully. "They've waited five years for this moment, sir. Your father's test is over. The exile is done."

The elevator stopped on the hundredth floor. The doors opened onto a penthouse office that overlooked the entire city. Ryker stepped out first, entering a security code that released the sealed doors.

"Everything exactly as you left it, sir. I couldn't let anyone else touch it."

Adrian walked into the office. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A desk carved from single piece of mahogany. And on that desk, in a silver frame, a photograph of his father—Vincent Kane, the man who'd built this empire from nothing, who'd ruled with iron and ice, who'd told his son he was too soft to inherit any of it.

Adrian picked up the frame. Looked into his father's unsmiling face.

"I'm not that boy anymore, Father," he said quietly.

Ryker waited. Gave him the moment. Then: "Sir, there's something you need to know. Thornton Enterprises is finalizing a major deal tomorrow. With Silverline Corporation."

"Silverline?" Adrian set down the photo. "That's one of ours."

"Your subsidiary, sir. The CEO doesn't know you're back yet. Should I inform them?"

Adrian turned to face the city. Lights sprawled beneath him like stars. Somewhere out there, the Thorntons were celebrating. Margaret was planning Isabella's wedding. Isabella was laughing about the pathetic husband she'd finally escaped.

"No," Adrian said. "Let them celebrate their success. Let them think they've finally made it big without me dragging them down." He smiled, and there was nothing warm in it. "Their joy makes the fall so much sweeter."

Ryker nodded. Hesitated. "Sir, there's something else."

Adrian turned.

Ryker pulled up his phone. Showed him a social media post from an hour ago. Isabella Thornton's face beaming at the camera, Brandon's arm around her, a diamond ring catching the light.

The caption read: She said YES! Can't wait to start our family. Baby on the way! Blessed NewBeginnings

"She's pregnant," Ryker said carefully. "Posted it an hour ago. Claims it's his."

Adrian stared at the image. Isabella's hand on her stomach. Brandon's possessive grip. The comments flooding in—congratulations, well wishes, people who had no idea what kind of people they were celebrating.

"How far along?" Adrian's voice was steady. Too steady.

"The post says two months." Ryker paused. "Given your... situation with her, it's definitely his."

This truth hit him like a freight train.