The Billionaire’s Lost Heir

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Chapter 3

“I am innocent, please I didn't do anything.” Ethan cried, pressing his back against the wall. He pulled his knees to his chest, shaking. His ribs ached with every breath. Another trail of blood dripped from his swollen nose down to the collar of his torn blue jumpsuit.

Down the hallway, a small TV was on, airing the evening news.

"Police arrested a suspect today at Hart Group headquarters..." the news anchor said.

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. But he could still hear it. He opened them and looked through the steel bars. He saw his bruised, terrified face flashed on the screen. Below his picture, the bold red letters read: ‘CORPORATE THIEF CAUGHT.’

"No," Ethan choked out. He wiped his nose, smearing the blood across his cheek. "I didn't do anything. I am honest. I'm just a cleaner."

While he was crying, he heard someone coming towards the cell. ‘Clack. Clack. Clack.’

A police guard stopped in front of Ethan's cell. He held a wooden baton and tapped it against the steel bars. ‘Clang.’

"Quiet in there," the guard sneered. "Watching yourself on TV? Better get used to this room, buddy. You stole from the Hart Group. You’ll be rotting in here for a long, long time. You should get used to it."

Ethan crawled forward. Scraping his bruised knees against the rough floor. He grabbed the steel bars. "Please. Officer. I swear I didn't steal anything."

"Yeah, yeah. Save it for the judge." The guard turned to walk away.

"Please wait!" Ethan shoved his face between the bars. "Please! My mom. She’s at City General Hospital. Her bill was due today. If I don't pay, they’re cutting off her machines. Just... Please, can you call them? Can you check on her? I want to know if she's still there."

The guard stopped. He looked over his shoulder, he slightly reduced his annoyed expression. He stared at Ethan’s bloody tired face and desperate eyes. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"City General?" the guard asked.

Ethan nodded frantically. "Yes. Room 402. Mary Cole."

The guard pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "Look. My wife is a nurse on the fourth floor over there. I’ll text her. One favor. That’s it. Then you shut up for the rest of your stay here."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Ethan slumped against the bars, breathing hard. 

The guard walked away, typing on his phone.

Ethan waited. There was nowhere to check the time but he kept staring at the hallway, praying. ‘Just let her be okay. I'll stay here forever if she just lives.’

It took like forever but Ethan heard a footstep matching toward the cell. Ethan stood up waiting for him to come closer. The guard walked much slower this time. He stopped in front of the cell. Then he took a deep breath and looked down at his phone, frowning.

"Officer?" Ethan asked, already sensing there was a problem. "Did your wife reply to you? Is my mom okay?"

The guard swallowed hard. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and looked at Ethan. "Kid..."

"Sir?" Ethan’s heart was beating too fast, gripping the bars so tight that it felt hot. "What happened? Please, tell me."

"My wife checked. The TVs in the patient rooms were playing the local news." The guard pointed his thumb toward the small TV in the hallway. "Your mom saw your face on the screen. She saw them dragging you out."

Ethan froze. The air left his lungs. "No."

"She went into cardiac arrest, kid. Heart attack. The doctors rushed in, but..." The guard looked away. "She’s in a deep coma. They don't think she's going to wake up. I'm sorry."

The guard walked quickly down the hall, leaving Ethan alone in shock. Ethan’s hands slipped off the bars. His legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor.

"Mom..." he whispered.

A loud sob tore out of his throat. He curled into a tight ball on the dirty floor. He grabbed his own hair, pulling it as he cried. The pain in his ribs meant nothing now.

"Mom, I'm sorry!" he screamed. "I'm sorry! I didn't do anything! I was just trying to get the money! I'm sorry!"

He cried until his throat felt like it was bleeding, his eyes swelled shut and his body physically could not shake anymore. He cried his heart out until he fell into a restless sleep.

CLANG.

The loud screech of metal sliding against metal jolted Ethan awake. He blinked, looking confused and disoriented. He wasn't seeing clearly. It was dark. 

He rubbed his crusty eyes.

Then, the iron gate of his cell opened. A tall guard stood by the door, holding a ring of keys. But the guard wasn't looking at Ethan. He was looking at the man walking into the cell.

The man was elderly, but he looked perfectly healthy. From what he wore, Ethan could tell he was a wealthy man. Ethan stepped backward, pressing his back tightly into the corner of the cell. He held his hands up over his face, shaking in fear.

"Please," Ethan begged, his voice sounding raspy and skeptical. "Please don't hurt me. I didn't do anything. I swear."

The old man stopped, he stared at him and took a deep breath. Without taking his eyes off Ethan, the man raised one hand and waved his fingers at the guard. The guard immediately nodded, and walked back into the hallway, leaving them completely alone.

The old man stood in the middle of the filthy cell. He leaned on his silver cane and studied Ethan's bruised face, his torn clothes, and his terrified eyes. Slowly, a soft, genuine smile spread across the old man's face.

Ethan lowered his hands just an inch. "Who... who are you? What do you want?"

The man took one step closer. "Finally," the old man whispered. "We have found you. Ethan Sterling."

Ethan just stared. "What?"

The old man stood tall. "I am Victor Sterling."