The Heir Behind Bars

Charter Nine

Nathan slipped out of the estate before dawn, he clutched a crumpled flyer for a delivery job. It was honest work, a small chance to stand on his own again. Maybe it could wash off the oil stains and broken glass that still clung to his pride.

The city’s underbelly welcomed him in a way the Hayes estate never could. The alleys were littered with trash, the air thick with diesel and grime. But to Nathan, it felt more real,more truthful, than the polished marble halls of the Hayes family. 

He walked fast, his boots crunching against the frost-covered pavement. Every step pulled him toward something that looked like freedom.

The delivery hub was a small, rundown warehouse on the edge of town. Its walls were marked with rust and graffiti, like scars on old skin. Nathan checked in with the boss, a gruff man named Vic, who barely looked at him. A cigarette dangled from Vic’s lip as he handed Nathan a clipboard and muttered, “You start now and don’t screw up.”

Nathan nodded. The weight of that clipboard felt like a lifeline. He was ready to work, to haul crates, lift heavy boxes, and sweat for something that didn’t have the Hayes name on it. For once, he wanted to be just a man with a job, not a convict, not a pawn.

But something shifted barely an hour in.

Whispers started floating through the warehouse. Nathan could feel eyes on him, hard and judging stares. As he lifted a crate into a truck, one voice cut through the noise.

“Thief.”

Then another, colder. “Convict.”

His hands froze mid-lift. His heart pounded. Slowly, he turned to Vic, hoping for some kind of support. But Vic’s eyes were changed now, hard like chipped stone.

“You’re out,” Vic said, voice flat and unforgiving. “Heard about your record. We don’t want any trouble.”

Nathan tried to speak, but his throat closed up. The sneers around him were louder than anything he could’ve said. It had to be Liam. Only Liam could poison a job Nathan hadn’t even started. The words hit like another oil spill, another slice of glass, just more bruises on a pride that was already bleeding.

He left the warehouse with his head held high, but inside, he was sinking. The word thief followed him like a shadow.

Back at the estate, Mr. Hayes waited in the drawing room, his face unreadable behind a crisp newspaper.

“You thought you could run?” he said without looking up. His voice was clipped and quiet, the kind that warned of storms. “You’re a Hayes only in name. Prove your worth, or lose even that.”

The punishment came fast.

Nathan was given nothing but small, humiliating chores. Scrubbing floors, polishing silver and carrying logs. Each task chipped away at whatever dignity he had left. The staff wouldn’t look him in the eye. 

That night, Cassandra stepped into the maid’s quarters, the cream of her coat too clean for the cracked walls around her. She leaned against the doorframe, perfume strong in the air. Her expression wasn’t cruel, not exactly, but it wasn’t kind either.

“Sign the inheritance papers,” she said, voice soft but tight. “Do that, and I’ll protect you.”

He looked up, meeting her gaze. There was fear there, fear not just for him, but for herself.

“Protect me?” he asked, voice low. “Or protect yourself?”

Her jaw clenched. She didn’t answer. From prison gates to auction halls, their paths had always sparked against each other. Cassandra turned to leave, her heels echoing like a warning across the floor.

Nathan’s voice stopped her.

“You’re scared I’ll break your cage too.”

She paused, hand on the doorknob. But she didn’t look back.

Later that night, Nathan sat alone in the dim room. His fingers turned the pages of his journal, rough and stained. Between two entries, he found it, an old photo, nearly worn to dust. It showed Liam, younger, smiling beside a sleazy lawyer in a cheap suit. “This man probably had cleaned the Hayes family's dirty secrets. He’d helped Liam become the heir, while Nathan rotted behind bars.”

Nathan’s breath hitched. He traced the faces with his thumb. That photo could be proof. Proof of the past. Proof of Liam’s betrayal.

He found Cassandra outside, standing in the garden where fairy lights blinked over the hedges. Their glow made everything look warm, but Nathan knew better. It was all fake.

She smoked in silence, the cigarette between her fingers like a fuse burning down. Nathan held the photo out to her.

“Look at this,” he said. His voice was quiet but full of urgency. “Liam’s lies start here. Help me prove it.”

She glanced at the photo. Her face gave nothing away. For one second, he thought she might actually listen. That she might choose truth over family.

But she moved fast.

She grabbed the photo and pressed it to the burning end of her cigarette. Flames ate Liam’s smile, the lawyer’s smug face, until all that remained was ash. Her hands trembled.

“You’ll ruin us all,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, but the regret never spilled past her eyes.

Nathan’s chest burned. He couldn’t speak. Before he could even react, Liam’s voice sliced through the night.

“Detective work, Nate?” he taunted, stepping from the shadows. His tuxedo was flawless. His grin was sharp enough to draw blood. “Digging through trash for fairy tales?”

He’d been watching. Always watching.

Liam grabbed Nathan’s arm, yanking him toward the house. “You don’t leave this estate,” he snarled, just loud enough for a servant to overhear. “Not a step. You’re done running.”

Inside, Mr. Hayes was waiting. His gaze was colder than the marble floors beneath them.

“Defy us again,” he said, voice like stone. “And you’ll have nothing—not even this roof.”

Liam shoved Nathan toward the hallway. His laughter followed behind—low, sharp, and cruel.

Nathan sat back on the cot, the air in the room heavier than ever. His fingers still smelled of ash, and the memory of the photo burning hadn’t left his eyes. Through the cracked window, he watched Cassandra’s shadow slip away.

You’ll ruin us all.

He repeated her words in his head. He’d seen something real in her eyes, something like regret. But in the end, she made her choice. She picked Liam. She picked the cage.