The Graham Heir—I Am Not An Adopted Nobody

Chapter 3: The Last Straw

Morris Emmett leaned back into his chair, legs crossed casually, watching Robert and Anna with a detached amusement—as though they were nothing more than insects trapped in a glass jar. 

“You want to know why I hate you guys so much?” Morris finally said, his voice calm, almost conversational.

Robert raised his swollen face, blood drying at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me.”

Morris laughed.

A dry, humorless laugh that echoed across the hall.

“It’s simple, I hated my brother, Dylan,” Morris said. “And now, you and that woman are simply inheriting that hatred.”

Robert’s heart pounded. “Then answer me,” he demanded weakly. “Were you responsible for Dylan’s death?”

Morris’ eyes glinted.

“Oh?” he said. “Straight to the point.”

He stood up slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “Let me put it this way, boy. I’ve been responsible for many things in my life.”

He paused.

“And Dylan’s death was just one of them.”

Anna gasped.

“No…” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “You’re lying.”

Morris shrugged lightly. “Believe whatever helps you sleep—if you live long enough to sleep again.”

Robert’s entire body trembled with rage. “I swear to you,” he growled, “I’ll deal with you for this.”

Morris burst into laughter.

“You?” he mocked. “Deal with me?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “There is no world of existence where someone like you ever becomes powerful enough to stand before me.”

Then his expression darkened.

“Enough of this.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Take the girl.”

Anna froze.

“What?” she screamed. “No!”

Two large men stepped forward.

Morris spoke calmly, as though discussing business. “I have a friend. A mafia lord. He enjoys… collecting young girls.”

Anna’s scream pierced the room.

“He’ll keep her until she comes of age,” Morris continued. “Then marry her. Or maybe he’ll get bored and do whatever he wants with her. Either way, I don’t care.”

“No! You can’t do this!” Anna cried, struggling violently as the men grabbed her.

She turned desperately toward Jane. “Jane! Please! Help me! We’re the same age!”

Jane laughed.

“Aww,” she said mockingly. “Why would I help you? You’ve always been my competition in this family.”

Robert lunged forward. “Touch her and I’ll—”

Edward moved instantly.

“Hold him.”

More guards grabbed Robert from behind.

“Let her go!” Robert roared.

Edward sneered. “You still don’t know your place.”

The guards slammed Robert to the floor and began to beat him—fists, boots, batons—until his vision blurred and blood spilled from his mouth.

Anna broke free with a desperate scream and ran to him, throwing herself over his body.

“Stop! Please stop!” she cried.

Robert wrapped his arms around her tightly, shielding her with what little strength he had left. “Don’t touch her,” he coughed. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

For a moment, the room was quiet.

Then—

Laughter.

Morris, Edward, and Jane laughed openly.

“Oh, relax,” Morris said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. “We were just playing.”

Robert and Anna stared at him, confused and terrified.

“You should have seen your faces,” Edward added, grinning. “Priceless.”

Morris gestured lazily. “Edward, bring the briefcase.”

Edward walked to the corner of the room and returned with a black leather briefcase. He placed it on the table and snapped it open.

Inside—bundles of cash.

Different currencies. Crisp. Shining.

Morris smiled down at them. “One million dollars. Cash. Right here.”

Anna gasped. Since Dylan died, she hadn’t seen that much money in one place. Her eyes lit up with desperate hope. “You’re… you’re going to give it to us?”

Jane burst out laughing again. “Oh my God, she’s so stupid. Even for an Emmett.”

Morris ignored her. “Edward, take this and distribute it. Share it with every staff member, every guard in the house. Make sure each one gets more than the fifty thousand this boy was begging for earlier.”

Edward grinned like a kid on Christmas. He walked out of the room, briefcase in hand. Minutes later, excited voices floated in from the hallway—gasps, thank-yous, laughter.

Robert watched it happen, numb. This wasn’t cruelty. This was pure, deliberate wickedness.

Morris looked down at them again. “My one cent will never go to you. Or that woman you call mother. You can all rot in hell for all I care.”

Anna started crying again, begging. “Please… just help Mom. She’s dying.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Security! Throw them out. They’re stinking up the place.”

Rough hands grabbed them once more. Robert tried to fight, but his body hurt too much. They dragged him and Anna toward the gate.

Just then, headlights swept across the driveway. A familiar white Range Rover pulled in.

Robert’s heart stopped.

Chloe stepped out first, followed by Silver, Tracy, and Julie. All of them dressed to kill, laughing and chatting like they were arriving at a party.

They saw Robert and Anna being dragged, bloody and bruised, and burst into fresh laughter.

Robert stared at Chloe, searching her face for anything—regret, concern, even pity.

Nothing.

She smiled, bright and empty, and walked right past him without a word.

His chest caved in. Two years. Two years of dates, promises, late-night talks. Dylan and Chloe’s father had practically arranged their future. They used to joke about the wedding. And now… this?

He whispered her name. “Chloe…”

She didn’t even glance back.

The guards shoved them through the gate and slammed it shut.

Robert pressed his face to the bars, peering inside. Chloe walked straight to Edward. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Edward pulled her close, grabbed her waist—then her butt—right in front of everyone. He looked toward the gate, straight at Robert, and smirked. Then he kissed her, slow and deep, eyes never leaving the spot where Robert stood.

Everything clicked.

She hadn’t just dumped him today.

She had been waiting for this. Maybe even before Dylan died.

Robert’s hands shook on the bars. “Chloe! Come out here! Explain this!”

No answer.

Only the guards yelling at him to leave.

His phone rang.

Hospital.

He answered with trembling fingers.

“Mr. Emmett? Have you gotten the money?”

“No… not yet.”

The doctor sighed. “You have less than one hour. After that, we can’t wait. We’ll lose her.”

Robert begged. “Please. Just a little more time—”

“There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

The line went dead.

Robert stared at the phone, then at Anna. Her eyes were red, terrified.

He pulled her into a hug. “Go back to the hospital. Stay with Mom.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to solve all of this.” His voice cracked, but he forced it steady. “When I come back, Mom will be safe. You’ll be in the best school in the city. And I’m going to make sure we never want for anything again. We’ll have more money than we can ever spend. And I’m going to make them pay for what they did to Dad. To us.”

Anna stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “How? We’ve tried everything.”

“Just trust me. Go. Be with Mom.”

She hesitated, then nodded. Robert flagged a taxi, paid with his card, and watched it disappear down the road.

He stood alone under the streetlight, chest tight.

Then he opened his contacts.

There it was. Saved under “Dad – Abram Graham.”

A number he had sworn he wouldn’t call for at least another ten years.

His thumb hovered.

Then he pressed it.

One ring.

A deep, powerful voice answered—warm, fatherly, desperate. “Son? Is that you?”

“Yes, Dad,” Robert said quietly. “And… I’m ready to come home.”

The line went silent for a heartbeat. Then Abram Graham’s voice cracked with joy. “Stay right where you are. I’m sending the helicopter. Don’t move.”

The call ended.

Less than ten minutes later, the night sky lit up with rotor blades.

A massive, gleaming helicopter—$200 million worth of black and gold, emblazoned with the Graham family sigil—descended on the empty field across from the Emmett residence. The downdraft flattened grass and rattled windows.

Everyone inside the mansion saw it.

They rushed to the rooftop terrace.

Morris narrowed his eyes. “That’s Abram Graham’s personal bird. What the hell is he doing here?”

Edward puffed out his chest. “Dad, relax. I told you—we’re closing that deal with one of Graham’s subsidiaries. It’s happening. Once it’s signed, our net worth jumps from fifty billion to five hundred billion. We’ll be the fourth richest family in the country.”

Chloe’s eyes sparkled. She turned to Silver. “Thank you. Seriously. Working me with Edward was genius.”

Silver grinned. “Told you.”

Tracy laughed. “And that whole ‘clear my cart’ drama? Perfect excuse to dump the loser.”

Julie nodded. “Just don’t forget us when you’re Mrs. Edward Emmett and swimming in billions.”

They clinked glasses.

Morris shook his head. “Don’t listen to Edward’s bragging. He’s just like his father.” He smiled. “But he’s right. The deal is real. Tomorrow we host a celebration at the Bertha Graham Memorial Hotel. High-ranking Graham executive will be there. It’s done.”

They toasted again, laughing, dreaming of even more wealth.

None of them noticed the helicopter lifting off.

None of them saw who stepped inside.

And none of them had any idea that the boy they had just beaten, humiliated, and thrown out like trash… was the only son of Abram Graham.

The lost heir.

The one who had walked away from billions to live a normal life.

Until tonight.