THE BASTARD SON IS REAL HEIR

CHAPTER 5

The night after Arjun left the Kyler estate, Marco stumbled into his father's study, clutching his broken nose. Blood stained his designer shirt, tears of rage streaming down his face.

"Father! Father, you need to see what that bastard did to me!" Marco's voice cracked with fury and pain.

Vittorio Kyler looked up from his desk, eyes narrowing at the sight. "What happened?"

"Arjun attacked me! He came back like a rabid dog and broke my nose!" Marco collapsed into a chair, his voice rising hysterically. "He assaulted me on our own property! He could have killed me!"

Isabella rushed in behind him, her face twisted with manufactured concern. "Vittorio, look what he's done to our son! That animal needs to be arrested!"

"Calm down." Vittorio reached for his phone. "I'll call him right now and—"

The call went straight to a generic message. Blocked.

Vittorio's jaw tightened. He tried again. Blocked.

"He blocked me?" Vittorio's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "That ungrateful whelp blocked my number?"

"Try mine!" Isabella thrust her phone forward.

Blocked.

"Mine too!" Marco added desperately.

Blocked.

"How dare he!" Vittorio slammed his fist on the desk. "After everything I've done for him, after the roof I put over his head, he has the audacity to assault my son and then block us?"

"He's lost his mind," Isabella said, her voice dripping with venom. "Without your support, without money, he'll come crawling back within days. Then we can have him thrown in prison where he belongs."

Marco touched his swollen nose gingerly. "I want him destroyed, Father. Completely destroyed."

Vittorio's eyes glinted coldly. "Don't worry, son. Tomorrow at the banquet, when we announce the Harper partnership and your engagement to Giulia, the entire city will see that Arjun means nothing. He'll be forgotten. Erased."

The following morning, Arjun stood outside a luxury hotel suite, his hand raised to knock. Before his knuckles touched wood, the door flew open.

A woman in her early forties stood there, tears streaming down her elegant face. Her features were refined, sophisticated—and unmistakably similar to the photographs of his mother.

"Arjun," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Oh, my darling nephew."

Priya Harper pulled him into a fierce embrace, her body shaking with sobs. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm so sorry about Meera. I'm so sorry about everything."

Arjun stood rigid for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around her. The weight of the past days crashed over him, and for the first time since his mother's funeral, he allowed himself to feel.

When they finally separated, Priya's grief had transformed into cold fury. She guided him inside, her movements sharp with barely contained rage.

"Tell me everything," she demanded, her voice like steel. "Everything that family did to you."

Arjun recounted it all—Giulia's betrayal, Marco's cruelty, Vittorio's abandonment, Isabella's thugs desecrating his mother's grave. With each detail, Priya's expression grew darker, more dangerous.

"Those animals," she hissed when he finished. "Those worthless, ungrateful animals. My sister gave up everything for that man, and this is how they repay her memory?"

"Grandfather wants me to destroy them," Arjun said quietly. "To take back everything they stole."

"Good." Priya's smile was razor-sharp. "And how do you plan to start?"

Arjun met her eyes, his voice calm and cold. "Tonight, they're throwing a banquet. The Harper-Kyler partnership will be announced. Marco's engagement to Giulia will be celebrated. They'll be at their happiest, most triumphant moment."

"And?"

"And we'll attend. We'll walk in as honored guests of the Harper Group. And at the moment of their greatest joy, we'll destroy their partnership with Grandfather's company. We'll ruin everything." His expression hardened. "That will be the first step."

Priya's laugh was musical and cruel. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Your mother would be proud."

That evening, a sleek black limousine pulled up to the Kyler estate gates. Arjun and Priya stepped out, both dressed impeccably—Priya in a stunning crimson gown, Arjun in a tailored black suit that made him look nothing like the broken man who'd fled days ago.

Giuseppe, the head gatekeeper, stepped forward with a sneer. He'd been one of the servants Arjun had always treated kindly, slipping him extra bonuses during holidays.

"Well, well, well." Giuseppe's voice dripped with contempt. "Look what the gutter dragged back. Come to beg for scraps, have you?"

Arjun said nothing, his expression carved from ice.

"Or maybe you're here to grovel?" Giuseppe stepped closer, emboldened by his colleagues' laughter. "Want to kiss Master Marco's feet? Apologize for breaking his nose like the worthless dog you are?"

"How dare you speak to him that way!" Priya's voice cut like a whip.

"Oh, and who's this?" Giuseppe's eyes raked over her dismissively. "Your sugar mama? Did you finally find some desperate woman to keep you fed, Arjun? How pathetic."

Vittorio, another servant, laughed from behind Giuseppe. "I always knew he'd end up selling himself. What else can a homeless beggar do?"

"Those clothes are probably borrowed," Isabella, a maid, added with a snicker. "Or stolen. Did you rob someone, Arjun? Is that how low you've sunk?"

"I treated you with respect," Arjun said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I gave you bonuses. I remembered your children's names. Your birthdays."

"And we took your money like the fool you are!" Giuseppe spat. "Did you really think we cared about you? You were always just the bastard son nobody wanted. Your own father threw you away like garbage!"

"Your mother must be rolling in her grave," Vittorio jeered. "Knowing what a failure her son turned out to be. No wonder Mr. Kyler never loved you—you're just a reminder of his biggest mistake!"

The words should have hurt. Days ago, they would have shattered him.

Now, Arjun felt nothing but cold contempt.

His hand moved faster than Giuseppe could react—a sharp slap that echoed across the courtyard like a gunshot.

Giuseppe stumbled backward, hand flying to his reddening cheek, shock replacing his sneer. "You... you hit me?"

"Yes." Arjun's voice was ice. "Consider it payment for every kindness you threw back in my face."

"You crazy bastard!" Giuseppe lunged forward. "I'll tear you apart! Do you know who I work for? Do you know what the Kyler family will do to you?"

"The Kyler family?" Arjun's laugh was bitter. "A family of trash elevated beyond their worth."

"Trash?" Vittorio sputtered. "You calling Mr. Kyler trash when you're the one begging at the gates? When you're the one who got kicked out for being pathetic and weak?"

"Should I call security?" Isabella pulled out her phone. "Have both of them arrested? Mr. Kyler would reward us handsomely for—"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Priya said softly, withdrawing a cream-colored envelope from her clutch.

The Harper Group seal gleamed in gold on the wax.

Giuseppe's sneer died instantly. His face drained of color. "That's... that can't be..."

"An official invitation," Priya finished, her voice laced with venom. "From the Harper Group. Addressed to honored guests. Now, tell me, Giuseppe—are you going to let us through, or shall I inform the Harper representatives inside that the Kyler family employs servants who physically assault and verbally abuse their invited guests?"

"No! No, please!" Giuseppe dropped to his knees. "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know! Please, forgive me!"

"Forgive you?" Priya's laugh was cruel. "After you insulted him? After you mocked his dead mother? After you called me his sugar mama?"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Tears streamed down Giuseppe's face. "Please don't report this! I'll lose everything! My job, my home, my family's livelihood!"

"You should have thought of that before opening your filthy mouth," Priya said coldly.

Vittorio had gone pale as death. "Mr. Arjun, please—we were joking! We didn't mean it!"

"Joking?" Arjun's eyes were dead, emotionless. "You joked while standing on property my family's money helped build. You joked about my mother's death. You joked about my homelessness."

"We're sorry! Please!" Isabella was crying now. "We have children! Families to feed!"

Arjun looked at each of them in turn—these people he'd once considered friends, people he'd helped, people who'd turned on him the moment he fell.

"Enjoy your jobs," he said quietly, "while they last."

The gates swung open automatically.

Arjun and Priya walked through, leaving the sobbing servants behind, their pleas fading into the night.

The grand hall blazed with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over guests in designer gowns and tailored suits. Champagne flowed freely. Laughter echoed off marble walls.

At the center of it all stood Giulia.

Her auburn hair was swept into an elegant updo, diamonds glittering at her throat—the same diamonds Arjun had given her. She laughed at something an elderly woman said, her ice-blue eyes sparkling with cold satisfaction.

"Congratulations, Miss Giulia!" voices called out. "Marrying into the Kyler family and celebrating the Harper partnership!"

"You're so fortunate! Marco is such a catch!"

Giulia smiled graciously, accepting their praise like a queen receiving tribute. "Thank you. I'm simply blessed to have found where I truly belong."

Across the room, Marco stood beside Vittorio, both engaged in animated conversation with a sharp-eyed middle-aged man in an impeccable suit—Alessandro Romano, the Harper Group's regional manager.

"Mr. Romano, we're honored by your presence," Vittorio said smoothly. "This partnership will revolutionize both our companies."

"Indeed." Alessandro's expression remained professionally neutral. "The Harper family takes its alliances very seriously, Mr. Kyler. We expect nothing but excellence."

"And you'll receive it," Marco interjected eagerly, his bandaged nose a testament to yesterday's encounter. "I personally guarantee—"

His words died.

Every eye in the room turned toward the entrance.

Arjun stood in the doorway, Priya beside him, both radiating an authority that made the glittering crowd seem suddenly cheap and gaudy.

Vittorio's champagne glass slipped from his hand, shattering on marble.

The room fell into shocked silence.

"What..." Vittorio's face turned purple with rage. "What is HE doing here?"

Giulia's expression remained cold, indifferent. Only the slightest narrowing of her eyes betrayed her surprise.

"Arjun?" Her voice cut across the hall, sharp as broken glass.

Whispers erupted.

"That's the ex-fiancé?"

"The one who got thrown out?"

"What nerve, showing up here!"

Arjun's eyes swept the room with clinical detachment, taking in every face, every expression of shock and contempt. Finally, his gaze settled on Vittorio.

"Good evening, Father." His voice carried across the silent hall. "Lovely party."