THE FORGOTTEN HEIR

CHAPTER THREE — TRIAL BY FIRE

Derek had barely slept.

By morning, the house had transformed into a machine. Assistants buzzed through the marble halls, stylists hovered over him like he was a product, and his tailored suit was delivered with surgical precision.

Alaric watched from the corner of the room, arms crossed. “Remember, today isn’t about being liked. It’s about being undeniable.”

Derek stared at himself in the mirror. The reflection didn’t look like the man who’d been kicked out of a cramped apartment days ago. He looked like a Dawson. But inside, he still felt like the intern who had to fight for respect.

They arrived at the Dawson Corp headquarters at 9:00 a.m. sharp.

Twenty stories of polished steel, glass, and power. Security guards nodded as he passed. But not everyone looked thrilled. Some employees stared like they were seeing a ghost. Others whispered, some smirked.

Then the press hit.

Flashes. Microphones. Shouted questions.

“Mr. Dawson, how long have you known you were heir?”

“Did you really grow up in poverty?”

“Why did the Dawson family hide you?”

“Are you qualified to run a multibillion-dollar empire?”

Alaric stepped in like a shield, brushing them off as they entered the gold-trimmed elevator. As the doors closed, Derek exhaled.

“You did fine,” Alaric said.

“That was the warm-up, wasn’t it?”

Alaric nodded grimly. “Now the real war begins.”

The boardroom was a battlefield disguised as luxury.

Twelve men and women sat in a crescent arc, all older, all dangerous. They had built the empire. Derek was here to inherit it—and they hated that.

At the head of the table sat Victor Lang, Acting CEO, known in the finance world as “The Snake in a Suit.”

He gave Derek a practiced smile. “Ah, the prodigal grandson. Or should I say, the PR disaster we didn’t ask for.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the table.

Derek straightened his back. “I came to listen. But I won’t apologize for my blood.”

Victor laughed lightly. “Let’s test that blood, then.”

He clicked a remote.

Behind him, a massive screen flickered to life—showing Derek’s entire financial history, every bounced check, every hospital bill he couldn’t pay, his divorce court filing, and even a photo of him sleeping in his car one night.

“This is who you want to make President?” Victor said, voice sharp. “He’s not a Dawson. He’s a liability.”

The room fell silent. Derek’s heart pounded, but he didn’t flinch.

He stood slowly.

“You’ve made your point,” Derek said. “You’ve dragged every low moment of my life onto that screen. But here’s what you left out—”

He pulled a flash drive from his pocket and plugged it into the screen’s port.

Alaric had prepared him for this.

The screen switched.

Now, slides of secret documents, internal corruption, embezzlement traced to two board members—one of them Victor himself—flashed across the screen.

Gasps erupted.

“While I was poor, you were bleeding this company dry,” Derek said. “So if you’re going to talk about liabilities, start with the man at the head of this table.”

Victor’s face went pale.

One of the board members cleared his throat. “Is this… verified?”

Alaric stepped forward, dropping a folder on the table. “Signed audit reports. Hard copies. Witness affidavits. We’ve had them ready for months.”

Victor stood abruptly. “This is absurd—”

“You can either step down quietly,” Derek said, voice cool now, “or I’ll take this to the press and the feds.”

Silence.

Then a voice from the end of the table—an older woman, head of international investments—said, “Let’s vote.”

Within minutes, Victor Lang was stripped of his position.

And Derek Dawson, the man they all laughed at hours ago, was named Interim President of Dawson Corp.

After the meeting, Alaric handed him a glass of whiskey.

“You just made more enemies in an hour than most men make in a lifetime.”

Derek drank it in one gulp. “Let them come.”

But as they walked toward the private elevator, a young intern passed Derek a folded note.

No name. Just a warning.

“Watch your back. Not everyone on the Board voted honestly. One of them wants you dead. — A Friend.”

Derek froze.

For the first time since he arrived, he felt the weight of what he was stepping into.

Power didn’t come free.

And now the war had truly begun.