THE CASTAWAY HEIR: POWER UNSEEN

CHAPTER 4

Outside, Brandon’s phone buzzed.

He answered without checking the caller ID.

“Sir, it’s Joe.” The familiar voice of his most loyal subordinate carried a note of excitement.

“The transfer of shares for Scott Holdings is nearly complete. In two days, when your wife, Mrs. Scott, rings the Nasdaq bell, you can present it to her as a gift. It’ll be the perfect moment—your timing couldn’t be better.”

Brandon stopped walking and drew in a slow breath before replying.

“There’s no need,” he said finally with a flat tone.

Joe was silent for a beat.

“Sir?”

Brandon’s hand tightened around the phone.

“I asked her for a divorce today. In three days, I’ll return to collect the signed papers. As for the share transfer, you can handle it. I don’t care what’s done with it anymore. Right now, I just want peace.”

Even though he felt the pain of the divorce, his voice remained calm.

On the other end, Joe exhaled slowly.

He had been with Brandon long enough to know how much the man had sacrificed for Sophia, how many nights he’d spent working in the shadows to ensure her success.

And now, with one ruthless blow, everything had crumbled.

“Understood,” Joe said.

Yet in his heart, he felt an odd relief.

Perhaps this was what Brandon needed to finally shake off the chains of a woman who had never appreciated him.

Brandon ended the call and walked down the empty street until he reached the cemetery gates.

The caretaker nodded as he passed.

Brandon made his way to the familiar corner, where a simple tombstone stood.

His mother’s name was etched in clean lines and the stone remained spotless despite how long it had stood there.

Brandon knelt, resting his hand against the cool surface.

“Mother,” he whispered, his voice breaking in the still air.

“I’ve failed. I thought if I gave everything—if I stayed silent, invisible, and let her shine—Sophia would see me. But all she sees is a servant. Today, she…”

He stopped and for a long while he said nothing, only staring at the name carved into stone, searching for comfort.

“I asked for a divorce,” he said at last, almost to himself.

“Maybe it’s for the best. I don’t know anymore.”

Just then, a sound broke the silence.

“Help!”

A woman’s desperate voice rang out.

Brandon’s head snapped up. He rose to his feet instantly.

The cry came from beyond the line of tombs, deeper into the cemetery.

He moved quickly until he rounded a corner—and froze.

Three burly men emerged in the dim light, their broad shoulders tense and knives glinting in their hands.

In front of them, a young woman in a pale dress struggled with her back pressed against a tombstone.

Her name was Jessica Marion.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were hazy with panic.

One of the men sneered.

“Scream all you want, sweetheart. Even if you burst your lungs, no one’s coming. Be obedient, and you’ll suffer less.”

The others laughed coarsely.

Suddenly, they heard a voice nearby.

“Stop!” Brandon’s sharp command cut through the air.

All three men turned.

For a moment, they sized him up. He was lean and calm with clean but simple clothes.

Almost immediately, they burst out laughing.

“Fool!” the leader jeered, twirling his blade.

“What are you gonna do? Now, go back home before you get yourself killed!”

“Yeah,” another man chimed in, grinning.

“Stick your nose in and we’ll put a few holes in you!”

Brandon’s lips curved into a smirk. It had been a long time since anyone underestimated him.

“You picked the wrong place,” he said quietly.

He stepped forward, swift as lightning.

Before the leader could react, Brandon’s foot snapped upward, kicking the dagger clean out of his hand.

The weapon clattered to the ground, useless.

In the same motion, Brandon seized the man by the collar, lifted him as though he weighed nothing, and slammed him into the other two.

All three went sprawling, crashing against a row of tombstones.

The leader groaned, clutching his ribs.

“M-Monster—!”

“Run!” one of the others shouted.

They scrambled to their feet and fled into the shadows, tripping over each other in their panic.

The cemetery was silent again.

Brandon dusted his hands off and then turned back to the young woman, Jessica.

She had collapsed onto the ground, her chest heaving.

He moved closer, crouching beside her. “You’re safe now.”

As he looked closer, he realized something was wrong.

Her skin was unnaturally flushed and her pupils dilated.

Her breathing came in shallow gasps and her body trembled as though she were fighting against invisible chains.

Brandon’s eyes narrowed.

He had seen this before. Undoubtedly, this woman had been drugged.

Her lips trembled.

“Please…” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

“If it isn’t relieved within twelve hours… my body will collapse. I’ll… die.”

Her eyes fluttered weakly, filling with tears. “Help me… I beg you.”

And then she fainted, falling limply into his arms.