THE BASTARD SON IS REAL HEIR

CHAPTER 2

The night air bit at Arjun's skin as he walked aimlessly through the city streets. His phone buzzed repeatedly—blocked numbers, probably Marco or Giulia calling to mock him further. He'd left it all behind: his room, his belongings, his illusions.

The streetlights blurred together as exhaustion and shock finally caught up with him. He barely noticed when a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled alongside him, its tinted windows reflecting his haggard appearance.

An elderly man emerged, moving with surprising speed for someone his age. His tailored suit probably cost more than Arjun had earned in six months. But it was his eyes—sharp, intelligent, and suddenly filled with tears—that made Arjun stop.

"It's you," the old man whispered, his voice breaking. "Dear God, it's really you."

Arjun stepped back. "I think you have the wrong person."

"No, no, I don't." The man reached out, his hands trembling. "You have her eyes. Exactly her eyes. Meera's eyes."

Arjun froze. "How do you know my mother's name?"

"Because she was my daughter." The old man's voice cracked with emotion. "My little girl. My Meera. I'm Vikram Harper. I'm your grandfather."

The world seemed to tilt again, but differently this time. "That's... that's impossible. My mother never mentioned—"

"Please." Vikram gestured toward the car. "Let me explain. Let me tell you everything. You deserve to know the truth about who you are."

Something in the old man's desperate sincerity made Arjun nod. He slid into the leather interior, feeling completely out of place in his rumpled clothes.

Vikram sat across from him, studying his face with an intensity that was almost painful. "Twenty years," he said softly. "Twenty years I've been searching for her. For you."

"Why? What happened?"

"Your mother and I... we had a terrible argument when she was young. She was headstrong, passionate. She wanted to marry for love, not advantage. I was a fool—I forbade it, threatened to disown her. So she ran." Vikram's hands clenched into fists. "She disappeared completely. Changed her name, cut all ties. By the time I realized what a mistake I'd made, she was gone."

"She never told me," Arjun said quietly. "About you. About any of this."

"I hired investigators across the globe. Spent fortunes tracking down every lead. Three months ago, I finally found her." Vikram's voice broke. "Only to learn that she had died. That I'd lost her forever without ever saying I was sorry."

Arjun felt tears burning his eyes. "She died in a car accident. It was sudden."

"I know. I know everything now." Vikram leaned forward. "Arjun, you're my only remaining family. My grandson. The sole heir to everything I've built."

"The Harper family..." Arjun's mind reeled. "You're THE Vikram Harper? The richest man in—"

"Yes." There was no pride in Vikram's voice, only regret. "All this wealth, all this power, and I couldn't save my daughter. Couldn't even find her in time. So I tried to do the next best thing—I located the Kyler family. Your father's family. I thought if I helped them, I'd be helping you indirectly."

Arjun's blood ran cold. "What do you mean, helped them?"

"I've been secretly channeling investments into Kyler Industries for the past three months. Facilitating contracts, opening doors. We just finalized a major partnership agreement last week." Vikram smiled sadly. "I thought I was securing your future."

"You were securing theirs," Arjun said bitterly. "My father just threw me out tonight. Told me never to come back."

The temperature in the car seemed to drop. "He what?"

"Cancelled my engagement. Said I was an embarrassment to the family. That I was ill-bred and would only ruin their new partnership with the Harper family." Arjun laughed without humor. "If only he knew."

"Tell me everything." Vikram's voice was dangerously quiet. "Every detail."

Arjun recounted it all—his mother's death, his plummeting status, Isabella and Marco's arrival, finding Giulia in bed with his half-brother, the cold dismissal. As he spoke, Vikram's expression hardened into something terrifying.

"They threw you out like garbage," Vikram said, his voice shaking with rage. "My grandson. My Meera's son. They dared—"

"It doesn't matter now."

"It matters." Vikram's eyes blazed. "They will pay for every insult, every slight, every moment of suffering they've caused you. I will destroy them piece by piece until they beg for mercy."

"Grandfather—"

"But first," Vikram interrupted, his voice suddenly gentle again, "first, I want to visit my daughter. Will you take me to Meera's grave?"

Arjun met his grandfather's eyes and saw genuine grief there—grief that matched his own. For the first time since his mother's death, he didn't feel completely alone.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I'll take you to her."