Home / Urban / THE FORGOTTEN HEIR / CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DEAD DON’T STAY BURIED
CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DEAD DON’T STAY BURIED
Author: Chrissy
last update2025-07-07 06:47:40

The intercom crackled again. That same voice.

“We warned you, Derek. Stop chasing ghosts.”

Derek was already moving—grabbing the hidden pistol from the drawer, switching his monitor feed to security cameras. Every hallway was dark. But on Camera 07, he spotted it.

A figure, tall and familiar, standing in the elevator.

Impossible.

His uncle—James Dawson—had died in a car crash ten years ago. The body was burned beyond recognition. The funeral closed-casket. Derek had been fifteen.

And yet, here he was, staring back at him through a grainy feed.

Was it a trick? A voice mimic? Deepfake?

Or worse…

The elevator stopped on his floor.

Derek turned off the monitor and killed the lights. Silent as a predator, he moved to the shadows near the door.

Footsteps.

The distinct sound of Italian leather on marble.

Then a soft knock. Just three taps.

Then silence.

Then…

“I taught you better than to freeze, Derek.”

The voice was real.

He didn’t open the door. He whispered instead: “If you’re alive… why disappear? Why let them bury you?”

From the other side: “Because I needed you to grow teeth.”

Derek unlocked the door, hand on his weapon. The man on the other side stepped in slowly.

And there he was.

James Dawson. Older. Gaunter. A silver beard framing his hardened face. But unmistakably alive.

They sat in the dark.

James lit a cigar with a calmness that bordered on psychotic. “I watched you grow, kid. Saw you fall. Saw you get married. Even saw that leech you called a wife cozy up with your enemies.”

Derek didn’t speak. His world was still spinning.

“I had to vanish,” James said. “Your father and I—” he paused. “We discovered something. A rot inside Dawson’s legacy. Deeper than embezzlement. We tried to cut it out. But they came for us.”

“I thought your car crash was—”

“A message,” James said flatly. “They let you live. You were young. Useless to them.”

He leaned forward. “But now you’re not.”

Across town, Tahlia sat in a luxury suite she hadn’t paid for.

Miles Beckford lounged on the sofa, swirling red wine.

“I told you he’d ignore you,” Miles said, smirking. “He’s not the same broke boy begging for love.”

Tahlia was silent. She couldn’t get the look in Derek’s eyes out of her head. He was colder now. Sharper. Deadlier.

“He’s changed,” she murmured.

“Exactly what we needed,” Miles replied, rising. “Now that he’s exposed the board, they’re vulnerable. Your uncle Martin’s next move is already in place.”

Tahlia flinched. “You said no one would get hurt.”

Miles laughed. “Sweetheart, everyone’s going to get hurt.”

Back at the penthouse, James placed a leather file on Derek’s desk.

“Inside this are names. Offshore accounts. And something bigger — the real reason they killed your father.”

Derek’s hands shook slightly as he opened the file. Dozens of photos. A ledger. Transaction records. Hidden arms deals. Connections to corrupt government officials.

And then one photo caught his eye.

Tahlia.

Smiling beside Martin Cray… years ago.

“She was planted,” James said.

“No,” Derek muttered, shaking his head. “I chose her. She loved me.”

“She was sent to love you,” James growled. “And now that you’re rising, they’re pulling her strings again.”

Derek felt like the ground had opened beneath him.

“I don’t believe she’s part of it. Maybe… maybe she was used too.”

James narrowed his eyes. “Then test her. Give her a chance to prove her loyalty.”

Derek looked up. “How?”

James smiled grimly. “Lie to her. Feed her bait. And see who bites first.”

The next morning, Derek made his move.

He sent Tahlia a message.

Derek: “You’re right. We need to talk. Come over tonight. Alone.”

Then he told Wyatt to plant a fake document on his desk — one hinting at a massive upcoming acquisition in Dubai. A file worth millions to anyone watching from the shadows.

Now, he waited.

Night fell.

Tahlia arrived, all soft smiles and timid footsteps.

She sat across from him, nervously playing with her ring — the same one she once threw back at him during their fight.

“I meant it, Derek,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Derek watched her carefully. “Then tell me one thing. Did Miles know about the Dawson family’s offshore ventures?”

Her breath caught.

Just a second too long.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She lied.

Derek said nothing. He nodded slowly, stood up, and stepped out of the room.

James was waiting in the hallway, listening through a feed.

“She’s compromised,” James said.

But Derek’s eyes were colder than ever. “She’s mine to deal with.”

Cliffhanger Ending

The next morning, the fake Dubai file was missing.

And within hours, a leaked press statement hit global news.

“Dawson’s Assets Planning Illegal Expansion into Middle East — Insider Leak Claims.”

Derek stared at the headline.

Then at the surveillance feed.

It showed Tahlia.

Copying the file.

And calling someone under a blocked number.

But the voice on the other end?

It wasn’t Miles.

It was Martin Cray.

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