The Billionaire Heir's Replacement

3. The Heir's Death

The white and green colours of an unfamiliar place came first, before a tang of antiseptic smell hit his nose.

Haze woke up in a hospital room, feeling weak and very out of place. The room itself was wider than his studio apartment, definitely better with that wide TV screen and nice air conditioning. The window's curtains were opened, giving him a good view of several high buildings in the city.

"Mr. Blackwood, how are you feeling?" A nurse called from the doorway, holding a clipboard in her hand.

Haze was so out of it that he didn't hear her open the door. He tried to tell her that his surname was Wilburn, not Blackwood, but he only managed to croak like a toad and coughed heavily.

"Take it easy, sir," the nurse rushed to his side, checking his vitals. She took a glass of water from the bedside table, "Do you want some water?"

Haze nodded, and the nurse helped him. He drank half a glass, then asked, "What day is it?"

"It's Friday, sir."

"So, I was out for a day."

"More like a week and a day." The nurse blurted, then corrected, "I'm sorry, but you have internal bleeding, broken ribs, and concussion, so we have to keep you asleep far longer than a day, sir."

Haze nodded, sighing. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

"Your father is expecting you outside. I'll let him know now, okay?"

The nurse ignored his confusion as she strode to the door, his protest died before it reached his mouth.

'What father?'

As far as he knew, he didn't have a father. His mother didn't talk about his father, and Haze always thought he was just an accident baby from a one-night stand. So, the nurse telling him his father was outside the door was one shock he never expected.

A minute later, two men came into his hospital room, a stern middle-aged one, followed closely by a short and older gentle-looking man. He supposed the one in front was who the nurse dubbed as his father.

"Who are you?" Haze was quite glad when his voice no longer sounded like a toad. First impressions mattered, whoever this man who came to be his father was.

"My name is Leonard Blackwood," the stern middle-aged man said in certainty, "And you will be Cassius Blackwood, my only son and heir."

“…”

Obviously, Haze didn't know what to say, so he remained silent as a heavy frown formed on his face. When a minute passed and no one said anything, he sighed, "My name is Haze Wilburn, and I will not be your son or whatever."

"The decision is final."

"No, it isn't." Haze grew perplexed. "Who are you again, anyway?"

The stern man didn't reintroduce himself again, but he merely held his hand out towards the short older man behind, palm up. A piece of paper was placed there by the short older man without saying anything.

"Haze Wilburn is dead." The stern man holds out the paper. "If you don't do as I told you, then you will die just like what it stated here."

Eyes widened at the request, Haze quickly read the words written on the piece of paper. Indeed, it was a death certificate with his name boldly placed in the middle. It was said that the cause of his death was suffocation from drowning.

Still in disbelief, Haze reread the paper again, trying to make sure he was seeing the right thing. How could he be dead when he was sitting here, breathing and definitely alive?

The death certificate was pulled back, and the stern man, Leonard, gave it back to the shorter, older one behind him. "There's proof of your death."

Haze's confusion was muddled with outrage. "You can't do that!"

"I did. There's nothing you can do, except what I ask of you."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to be my son."

"Like," Haze tried to devise a logical thing, "You want to adopt me? I'm twenty-three; you can't adopt an adult."

"No." Leonard strictly denied. "I want you to be my son, Cassius."

That name sounded familiar.

Haze's eyes widened at the realization. "Cassius, I've met him." It was the stranger who almost died in his arms. The one who shared his face.

"Yes, since you came to this hospital with him. I don't know how, but you have to take his place since he died."

"Wait, wait, wait," he held up a hand, "Slow down, will you? What do you mean he died?"

Leonard didn't even blink an eye when he explained. "Exactly as it sounds. My son died from drowning, but you're not. Since you looked so similar to him, I decided you must replace him as my son and heir."

What a fucking–

"You have no choice, unless you want to be buried alive six feet underground."

"You're threatening me?" Haze couldn't believe how confident the man sounded. "Maybe you should be the one lying in this hospital bed, since you certainly have lost some parts of your mind. Sir."

Leonard didn't respond right away. But when he did, he sounded no less threatening. "You have lost everything. Even you have been proclaimed dead, legally speaking. What are you fighting for? This is your only choice, boy."

"No," Haze resisted, "Wh-where is he? I-I want to see him."

The two men shared a look, and Leonard nodded. The shorter older man was stronger than he looked. He single-handedly transported Haze's weak body to a wheelchair brought from the corner of the hospital room. He pushed Haze, while Leonard led the way.

Haze didn't expect they would really go to the morgue. The shorter older man talked to the staff there, and they were led inside.

The morgue was particularly cold to keep the dead body from rotting. Haze shivered from it. But, trepidation finally sunk in when the staff left and he was pushed close to one of the cold, dead bodies in the morgue.

It was his face.

His features.

His name is written on the identification card.

It could have been him, except–

"You're still alive, but not him. My son is dead. Nothing can bring him back." Leonard sounded like a bad omen. "Nothing, but you. So, be Cassius Blackwood for me, as Haze Wilburn is dead. At least, for a meeting that will be held in three months."

Haze gulped from fear. It could have been him, lying on the cold, hard table of the morgue.

"You only need to say yes," Leonard explained, "After replacing my son for the meeting in three months, you can do whatever you want. I will give you a new identity, a big mansion, a private island, a billion dollars or more, you name it as long as you do as I told you to. Leave your old life, and fill in my son's place in the meeting."

Haze didn't know what to say. Everything happened too fast, too unreasonable, too out of control, and he couldn't do anything about it.

His head hurt. It was too much. "Bu-but, but what about my… my plant? Yes, I have a plant in my apartment," he rambled, "I don't- I can't leave it there. It's important to me."

"My men will retrieve it for you."

"No, I–"Haze tried to put his thought in his mouth, "I have to take it myself. I have to make sure–"

"Then, you will do that." Leonard didn't give him enough time to process it all. "So, do we have a deal?"

A hand was offered in front of him. Without fully realizing it, he took it.

"It's good to see you alive, Cassius. I hope you don't disappoint me."

From now on, his life would forever change.