The Discarded Son-in-Law Is a Billionaire Heir

Chapter 8

Zade's breath caught as he examined the faded photographs of a crumpled black car at the bottom of a ravine.

"My parents died on impact," he murmured, the words tasting like ash.

"Yes," Wynn replied quietly. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

"The paramedics found you miraculously alive in your car seat, thrown clear of the wreckage. But before the main family security team arrived, the local rescue crew mishandled the perimeter. Amid the confusion, a rogue ambulance driver or a panicked passerby took you, and you disappeared into the night. We searched for decades, but the trail went cold."

Wynn placed a trembling hand over Zade's knuckles.

"For twenty-five years, I believed I had lost my son, my daughter-in-law, and my grandson in one terrible night. It was an awful, heartbreaking misfortune."

An unfortunate accident.

That was the official explanation the family had accepted for a quarter of a century.

Yet as Zade studied the police reports, a cold sensation crept down his neck. His instincts, sharpened by the betrayal and murder he had suffered in his previous life, warned him that something was wrong.

His eyes narrowed as he read the technical forensic summary.

Brake line fluid pressure dropped to zero instantly before the turn.

A luxury Benson-custom vehicle equipped with triple-redundant mechanical safety systems had suffered a total hydraulic failure on a routine turn.

Then, in the chaos that followed, a five-year-old child had vanished from a heavily guarded accident site before the main family security team arrived.

That wasn't an accident, Zade thought, a chill running down his spine. That was a hit.

In his first life, he had believed people were inherently good, that love conquered all, and that tragedies were sometimes nothing more than bad luck.

That naivety had cost him his daughter and left him bleeding to death in a cold hospital room while his ex-wife laughed.

He would never make that mistake again.

If someone had tampered with his father's car twenty-five years ago, the culprit was no ordinary criminal.

Someone inside or close to the Benson family might have arranged the murder of the main heirs and ensured that the surviving five-year-old boy disappeared before he could reclaim his place in the family.

Dark anger surged through Zade. Beneath the table, his hands curled into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Someone murdered my parents, he realized, his heart pounding. And whoever did it might still be sitting in this very family, waiting to see what I'll do.

For a moment, he wanted to slam his hands on the table and demand a full reinvestigation. He wanted to call in federal agents and have the entire estate searched.

Instead, he took a slow breath and forced himself to suppress his rage.

No. If I raise the alarm now, whoever orchestrated their deaths will know I'm onto them. They'll cover their tracks, destroy the evidence, or worse... they might target Jemima.

The thought of anyone threatening his daughter brought a chilling calm over him. He couldn't afford to act on emotion. He had to play the long game.

"Zade?" Patriarch Wynn asked softly, noticing his silence. "Are you alright, my boy? I know reading these old reports is painful."

Zade lifted his head and composed his expression. He reached out and gently closed the velvet folder.

"It's just hard to read, Grandfather," he replied, his voice steady. "To know how close I was to having a normal life with my mother and father."

Wynn squeezed his shoulder.

"I know, Zade. But they are watching over you and little Jemima from heaven now."

"Yes," Zade murmured, gazing through the grand window at the sunlit gardens.

And I will make sure their killer joins them in the ground.

He turned back to the elders, his tone shifting to business.

"Let's put the old files away for today, Grandfather. Show me the current management structure of the subsidiary companies. If I'm going to protect this family, I need to understand who holds power in every department."

"Of course," Wynn said, visibly pleased by his grandson's resilience. "Thomas, pull up the executive board chart."

Elder Thomas tapped his tablet, displaying the corporate leadership structure. Zade memorized every face and name on the screen.

Somewhere on that chart was the person who had stolen his childhood and murdered his parents.

He leaned back in his chair, his expression calm, while an unshakable vow echoed through his mind.

I will find you, he promised his late parents. I will uncover every secret and tear down every lie. And when I find the person responsible, I will crush them completely.