The Drowned Heir Returns

Chapter 4. Long Time No See, Dad

The city lights blurred past the window as Ethan drove Olivia home.

His hands rested easy on the steering wheel, but his mind was nowhere near the road. It was stuck on one image. Sandra Voss. Handing a ring to Olivia. Smiling like a mother.

*Liv's mother. The woman who helped destroy my family is Liv's mother.*

"Liv, can I ask you something?" He glanced at her.

She leaned back in the seat, smiling. "Ask me anything. A hundred questions. I'll answer every single one for my handsome boyfriend."

He almost smiled. Almost. "The woman at the mall. Is she really your mom?"

Olivia turned to face him fully. "You saw her? Why didn't you come over? I would've introduced you." She pouted.

"I wasn't ready." His voice was quiet. "So. She is your mother."

"It's fine, really. I can introduce you to my stepmom instead."

"Stepmom?"

Olivia nodded. Her expression shifted — softer, sadder. "My biological mom divorced my dad a few years ago. She married some businessman named Richard Carter. I stayed with my dad because we've always been closer." She paused. "Not long after the divorce, Dad remarried too. A woman around his age."

Ethan nodded slowly. The pieces clicked into place.

So Sandra was Olivia's biological mother. They lived apart, but Olivia still loved her. That much was clear from the way she'd talked about the ring. The way she'd called her *Mom* without hesitation.

*How do I do this?* Ethan thought, his jaw tightening. *How do I burn Sandra Voss to the ground without burning Liv too?*

The question had no answer. Not yet.

---

The knock on Ethan's office door came at nine the next morning.

"Come in."

A man in a black suit entered, crossed the room in three strides, and placed a brown envelope on Ethan's desk. He bowed his head slightly.

"The man matching your sketch has been located, sir. He's still working as one of Richard Carter's bodyguards. One of six."

Ethan picked up the envelope. "Bring him to me. Quietly. Richard can't know." He slid a finger across the sealed flap. "He's my key to finding my mother. They took her three years ago. He knows where."

"Yes, sir." The man turned and left without another word.

Ethan tore the envelope open. Photos spilled out. Faces. Names. Addresses. And there — the man who had held the needle. The one who'd pumped poison into Ethan's arm while he screamed.

Ethan stared at the photo. His fingers didn't shake. His voice didn't waver.

"You won't get to live in peace. Not after what you did to her. To me."

---

Richard Carter's black sedan crawled through evening traffic. The highway was jammed, red taillights stretching for miles.

"Take the side streets," Richard muttered from the back seat, loosening his tie.

Patrick Hayes, his driver and assistant, nodded and swerved onto a quieter road. The buildings thinned. The streetlights flickered. The road stretched empty ahead.

Then something moved in the darkness. A shape. Fast.

Patrick slammed the brakes. Richard lurched forward, his seatbelt catching him hard across the chest.

"What the hell—" Richard gasped.

"Someone crossed in front of us, sir," Patrick said, already reaching for the door handle. "Let me check."

Patrick stepped out. The car door swung shut.

And in the same breath, the rear door on the opposite side opened. Someone slid in beside Richard. Smooth. Silent. Like smoke filling a room.

Richard opened his mouth to shout.

Nothing came out.

His body locked. Every muscle. Every joint. Frozen solid, as if the air itself had turned to stone around him. Only his eyes could move — darting sideways, wide with terror.

The young man beside him smiled.

He wore a school uniform. Baggy jeans. A hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. Bangs hung over his forehead. And on his ears — hearing aids. Old, clunky ones. The kind a sick kid would wear.

"Long time no see, Dad."

Richard's eyes bulged. His face went red. He strained, fought, tried to move a single finger. Nothing.

Ethan tilted his head, amused. "What, no hug? Three years and not one hug? Right. You never wanted me around, did you?" He laughed. A light, airy sound. Wrong for the words. "When I disappeared, you didn't send a single person to look for me. Oh, wait. I forgot. You were the one who sent them in the first place. To take Mom. To kill me."

Richard's eyes flicked toward the window. Outside, Patrick was walking around the front of the car, checking the road. Oblivious.

Ethan leaned closer. His voice dropped. Cold. Flat. The kind of cold that doesn't shout because it doesn't need to.

"Listen carefully, Richard. I'm going to collect every debt. Every single one. You and that wife of yours — you don't get to sleep easy anymore. Not one night."

He opened the car door. Stepped out. And just like that, the lock on Richard's body shattered. Air rushed into his lungs. His hands flew to his throat.

By the time Patrick opened the rear door, Ethan was gone. The street was empty.

"Sir? What happened?" Patrick asked, staring at Richard's white face.

Richard shook his head. Climbed back in. Said nothing.

Patrick drove. The silence in the car was thick as tar.

*How?* Richard's mind screamed. *My people said he was dead. They said he drowned. How is he here?*

---

The Carter residence. Fairview.

Richard stormed through the front door like a man chased by ghosts. Within minutes, every guard, every assistant, every person on his payroll stood in a rigid line in the living room. Sandra stood at the far end, arms crossed, face tight.

"You told me he was dead!" Richard's voice cracked like a whip. "Every single one of you looked me in the eye and said Ethan Carter was gone. And tonight — *tonight* — he sat in my car. Breathing. Talking. Wearing that damned school uniform like he never left."

One of the guards stepped forward. "Sir, we followed Mrs. Voss's orders. We injected him with the paralytic. We dumped him in the river. No one survives that."

"But you didn't confirm the body! You didn't stay to watch him sink!" Richard grabbed his own hair, pulling at it. "Someone could've reached him. Someone could've pulled him out before the drug hit. *ARGH!* You're all useless!"

Sandra stepped forward. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise.

"Richard. I saw him first."

He spun on her. "What?"

"Before tonight. At the office. He came to a board meeting as a client." Her hands trembled at her sides. "He's alive. He's healthy. No hearing aids. And he's rich. He owns Vanguard Group. Operations in twelve countries."

Richard stared at her. Then he sank into the nearest chair, both hands pressing against his forehead.

---

Seventeen meters away, behind the wheel of a parked car with the window cracked open, Ethan heard every word.

Every shout. Every excuse. Every tremble in Sandra's voice.

He leaned back in the leather seat. A slow smile spread across his face.

"I'll be waiting for your next move, Richard. Let's see who hunts and who gets hunted."

He tapped the divider between the front seats. "Drive."

The car pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the dark.