THE KASTELLAN HEIR.

THE HEIR'S AWAKENING.

“Sit down, Master Ronan,” Emeric said kindly, pointing to a couch worth more than Ronan had made in his whole life.

Ronan sat, but his head was spinning. How was any of this true? Just hours back he was nothing, a man cheated on, shamed, and kicked out of his job like garbage. Now he was being told he was heir to the Kastellan fortune. Was this good luck? Or was fate about to trick him?

“This is a lot to take in, Mr. Kastellan,” Ronan said, looking at the weak old man in the wheelchair. “Nobody ever spoke about my parents. I lived my whole life thinking I came from nothing.”

The old man coughed, a rough, wet noise that shook his thin body. “Of course. I don’t expect you to understand twenty years of quiet in a single night. But trust me, Ronan, my grandson, everything I’ve said is true. And everything I own is now yours.”

Ronan wanted to ask exactly how much that meant, but looking at the marble floors and the silent guards around him, he already knew. This wasn’t just riches. This was something far bigger.

“You said my parents died in a crash,” Ronan said softly. “Are they buried here?”

Mr. Kastellan leaned back, his eyes wet with tears. “That was the last time I cried. But seeing you today might end that streak.” A guard stepped up and handed him a cloth to dry his eyes. “They’re buried here, in the private garden. Come, let’s visit them.”

Emeric gave Ronan a bunch of white flowers as they walked outside. The whole place looked like something from a magazine.

“This is one of the most well-known homes in the country,” his grandfather said, a hint of pride in his tone. “People are always curious about what’s behind these gates. Reporters would love a peek at what you’re seeing now.”

They walked to a quiet garden that smelled of wet grass and blooms. Beside a tall tree stood a white stone tomb with gold patterns carved into it.

“Patrick and Elena Kastellan,” Ronan whispered, reading the names. He turned to his grandfather. “Why is there only one grave?”

“Your father’s last wish was that they stay together forever. His final words were a plea to find you,” the old man said, his voice cracking. “It was a dark night, Ronan. I’m thankful you were too young to feel that pain.”

Ronan set down the flowers and said a few quiet words to the parents he never knew. As they walked slowly back toward the house, his grandfather said something that made Ronan’s blood turn cold.

“I’m glad I found you, son,” he said, smiling calmly. “Because I’m dying. The doctors say if I last another month, it’ll be a miracle.”

Ronan stopped in his tracks. “What? How can you say that so calmly?”

The old man’s smile only grew. He looked like a man who had finally put down a heavy load he’d carried for years. “Don’t look so shocked. Yesterday, I was scared out of my mind. But now that you’re here, I can accept whatever comes. I can die at peace.”

Ronan said nothing, a mix of feelings pulling at him. He was still a stranger to this man, yet somehow he’d given him peace.

“You need to stay near me for the next few days,” his grandfather went on, his voice suddenly firm. “To see everything the Kastellan company owns, we’d have to travel to more than half the world. Everything is being put in your name. You’ll have your own credit card with no spending limit within two days.”

Ronan could hardly take in what he was hearing. He didn’t grasp the size of what was happening. He was about to become one of the richest men alive. The Kastellan family owned homes in every big city in Europe, vacation houses in famous spots, private planes, boats, and fleets of cars. But more than that, they owned shares in the companies that ran the world.

Back inside the house, tiredness finally caught up with the old man. He gripped Ronan’s hand tightly, his fingers thin and cold.

“Ronan, I don’t care what your life was like before today. Forget all that. You’re a Kastellan now. The world is yours, and anything you want can be yours in an instant. That’s what this name means. There are no limits.”

“I’m still in shock, Mr. Kastellan,” Ronan admitted.

The old man frowned, though his eyes stayed warm. “Nonsense. Call me Grandpa. You’ll get used to this power soon enough. It runs in your blood.”

Ronan offered to help him to his room, but the old man waved him off, letting his nurses take over instead. “It’s a clear night, son. Go get a drink, look around, do whatever you like. It’s all yours now.”

Standing alone in the huge living room, the weight of it all hit Ronan at once. He felt thrilled. He finally had family, even if it might not last long. He had more money than he could dream of. But under all that thrill, a small, cold fear began to grow.

No matter how costly his suit was, he was still the same “useless designer” that Preston and Vivienne had betrayed. How was a man who’d been treated like trash supposed to run a company this huge?

He was afraid of failing. He looked down at his hands. They were steady now, but pale in the moonlight. He couldn’t just be rich. He had to become someone new. He had to become the one who ruined the people who hurt him. He wouldn’t fail. By the time he was done, Preston and Vivienne would wish they’d never crossed him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​