The Almighty Heir's Return

Chapter 03

Kayle Jamerson, standing at nearly 6’5” with muscled arms, dirty blond hair, and icy blue eyes gleaming with malice, was inside the room. He held a camera, flanked by his grinning friends.

Brandon’s mind raced to Erika, but before he could process the situation, she emerged from the bathroom—only to be immediately pulled into Kayle’s grasp.

Kayle kissed her.

“Did you really think she’d want you?” Kayle sneered, his words laced with venom. “She’s my girlfriend, you idiot!”

Brandon’s stomach sank as Kayle’s gang erupted into laughter. He glanced at Erika, searching for the warm, kind girl he’d spoken to earlier, but her expression was cold, her demeanor unrecognizable.

Kayle smirked, raising the camera. “Let’s show the world Mr. Brandon Ashford’s incredible body!”

Brandon froze. He wasn’t rail-thin, but he wasn’t muscled either. Worse, his body bore countless bruises—proof of the torment Kayle and his gang had inflicted over the years.

“What are you doing here? How… how did you even find me?” Brandon’s voice trembled, anger mixing with despair. He thought escaping Helena would free him from the hell these bullies created, but Kayle had found him again.

Kayle’s smirk widened as he advanced toward Brandon, his presence menacing. “You’ll never get rid of us, you piece of shit.”

The gang prepared to strike, but the door to the suite opened again. This time, an older man stepped inside, his posture straight, his gray hair neatly combed, and his butler’s suit pristine.

“The party is over,” the old man said calmly, his voice steady and authoritative.

Kayle’s laughter echoed through the room, soon joined by his gang’s mockery.

“Tell me, Brandon, is this your bodyguard?” Kayle sneered. “Was this all you could afford? Did you scrape together change for this clown?”

The old man remained expressionless, giving a slight nod. Moments later, ten men in black suits entered the room, their silent presence suffocating the laughter.

Confused, Kayle scoffed, pointing at them. “What is this, some kind of joke? My father is one of the richest men in this city! Get out before you regret it!”

Ignoring him, the old man stepped forward, his gaze fixed solely on Brandon. He extended a hand, and one of the suited men placed a neatly folded bag in it.

“Here are your clothes, sir. Apologies for the delay,” the old man said, bowing slightly as he handed the bag to Brandon.

Kayle exploded into hysterical laughter. “Holy shit, Brandon! Did you hire these guys? What, did you take out a loan just to play dress-up?”

“Maybe he’s deaf from all the beatings he’s taken!” one of Kayle’s friends jeered, the others joining in.

Neither Brandon nor the men in black reacted. Their silence only infuriated Kayle.

“Still ignoring me, huh?” Kayle snarled, his grin turning into a dangerous scowl. “I was being nice because you’re old, but you’ve pushed it too far!”

With a nod from Kayle, his friends lunged at Brandon and the elder man.

The suited men moved as one. In a matter of seconds, the gang was on the ground, groaning in pain. Kayle, the last to fall, staggered back to his feet, blood dripping from his split lip.

“You think this is over?” Kayle growled, his voice shaking with rage. “You’re going to pay for this, Ashford. My father will ruin you!”

Erika cowered against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. She’d always thought Kayle was untouchable, his power derived not just from his strength but his family’s influence. Yet here was Brandon—her poor, quiet victim—turning the tables.

The old man, unbothered by the threats, turned to Brandon. “Sir, how would you like to proceed?” His calm demeanor was chilling, as if nothing that had just transpired fazed him.

Brandon’s hands clenched into fists. He looked at the bullies who had tormented him for years, their faces twisted in pain and confusion. Memories of their relentless harassment burned in his mind, but now, something inside him had snapped.

“It’s simple, Harold,” Brandon said, his voice cold and unfamiliar, sending chills through the room. “I want them to lose everything.”

The sinister smile that curved across Brandon’s lips was unlike anything Kayle had ever seen. For the first time, a flicker of fear crossed his face.

Harold bowed again. “As you wish, sir.”

He retrieved his phone and began making calls.

Kayle’s bravado faltered as he watched Harold speak in hushed, commanding tones. Something about the old man’s unwavering confidence made him hesitate.

“What the hell is going on?” Kayle barked, but his voice wavered.

Brandon turned his steely gaze to Kayle. “You wanted to ruin me, Kayle. Now it’s your turn to see what that feels like.”

The sound of Harold’s final words on the phone hung heavy in the air: “It’s time.”