The Heir's Return

Chapter 3

"Fifty million."

The words hung in the desolate villa, heavier than the silence itself. Serana stared at Javon as if he’d just suggested draining the ocean with a thimble.

Javon set down his teacup with a precise movement. A flash of sharp calculation crossed his eyes, replacing the cold calm he had shown earlier. "I'll get it from the Edelweiss family."

Serana laughed, a sound more like a weary hiss than amusement. "The Edelweiss family? Javon, you've been locked away for five years. The world has changed." She rubbed her temples, dizzy from exhaustion and the absurdity of the situation. "You think Aleesha, your fiancée, is just going to give you the money? Don't be delusional. Ever since the news of your arrest broke, they've drawn a thick line in the sand. They're vultures, waiting for us to die so they can peck at the remains of our market share."

Javon fell silent. His memory drifted to Aleesha—the girl with the sweet smile and eyes that always looked at him with admiration. He remembered when a financial crisis had nearly crippled the Edelweiss family's jewelry business. His father, Gerald, had been hesitant to help. But Javon, who was then secretly managing his own investment portfolio, saw potential.

Show me your plan, he had told Aleesha’s father back then.

And he saw it—a good plan, merely lacking capital. One hundred million. Not as a gift, not as a dowry, but as a loan between partners with clear terms. A loan that had allowed their business to soar and had, on paper, multiplied Javon's own wealth. That money, technically, was still his.

"It's not a request," Javon said softly, more to himself. "It's collecting a debt."

Serana looked at him with a strange expression, a mixture of pity and exasperation. "A debt? Javon, listen to me. Money you give a woman when you're drunk on love is never considered a debt. Aleesha is the belle of Westenia City now. Men are lining up for her. Why do you think she'd spare a glance for an ex-convict from a bankrupt family?"

The words echoed in Javon's mind, feeling like shards of glass. Yet, the memory of Aleesha's smile persisted. "I have to see for myself," he said, then stood up. "Whatever it takes, I will come back with that money."

Without waiting for a reply, he walked out, leaving Serana to shake her head. ‘Hah! Let him,’ she thought. ‘Sometimes, reality is the cruelest teacher. Let him see for himself how the world really works.’

***

The Edelweiss Villa district was a monument to ostentatious success. Located in the heart of Westenia City's most affluent district, every European-style mansion here competed in grandeur. At the main gates of the Edelweiss residence, a pair of white jade lion statues—rumored to be worth millions—stared out at the world with cold arrogance.

However, behind that luxurious facade, inside a master bedroom dominated by white and gold, the atmosphere was far from serene.

Aleesha Edelweiss, the girl Javon remembered as pure and gentle, was resting her head on a man's bare chest. Her thin silk nightgown had slipped from her shoulder, revealing fresh red marks on her snow-white skin. The scent of expensive perfume and lingering passion still hung in the air.

"Javier, darling..." she cooed, her fingers dancing across the man's broad chest. "When are you going to propose? I can't wait to be Mrs. Conner."

Javier Conner, the eldest son of the powerful Conner family, smiled condescendingly. He brushed a strand of hair from Aleesha’s face. "Patience, my little kitten. As soon as I secure my position on the board, I'll give you the grandest wedding this city has ever seen. The Forger family is a sinking ship, Aleesha. And the smartest rats are always the first to jump. You're a smart rat."

The ambiguous compliment made Aleesha smile with satisfaction. She didn't care about the metaphor, only the result.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

A frantic knock on the door made them jump. A bodyguard entered with a pale face. "Miss, it's an emergency! He... your fiancé... Javon Forger is here! He's in the lobby!"

Aleesha's beautiful face instantly tightened. A cold panic spread through her stomach. Javon?

That name felt like a curse from the past. She had assumed he would rot in prison, or at least emerge a broken loser. Why did he have to show up now?

"What is that loser doing here?" she hissed. "He must be here to beg! How disgusting!"

Javier frowned. "Calm down," he said, a note of amusement in his voice. "He's just a stray dog that's lost its master. Let's go see him. This could be fun."

Aleesha looked at him, her fear slightly eased by Javier's confidence. She straightened her nightgown, slipped on a silk robe, and polished her fake, sweet smile.

As they descended the magnificent marble staircase, the scene in the main lobby was already a silent drama. All the important members of the Edelweiss family had gathered. Her father, her mother, and several uncles stood stiffly. On the seat of honor, Grandfather Edelweis, the family patriarch, sat upright. His wrinkled face and sharp eyes stared straight at a single point.

There sat Javon.

He was alone on a plush white leather sofa, a stark contrast to his simple, worn-out shirt. He didn't look intimidated. On the contrary, he looked relaxed, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes swept the room with a disturbing calm, taking in the new oil painting on the wall, the flawless sheen of the marble floor, and the tense expression on every face.

He could feel it—the thick, unspoken hostility. He could smell the scents of fear and greed. Serana’s words were true. He was 99% certain.

Then, he saw Aleesha appear at the top of the stairs, clinging to the arm of Javier Conner. And his certainty became 100%. The sweet smile he remembered now looked like a cracked porcelain mask.

Javon waited until they had all assembled. He let the suffocating silence stretch until it was nearly at its breaking point. He didn't look at Aleesha. Nor did he look at Javier. His eyes were fixed straight on the patriarch, the head of the pride.

Finally, he spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence like a scalpel.

"Five years ago," he said, his tone flat and factual, "I transferred one hundred million into this company's account as a capital loan."

He paused, letting the word ‘loan’ echo in the cold room. Then, for the first time, his eyes shifted to Aleesha—without warmth, without anger, only the gaze of a creditor.

"Today, I don’t need much. Just return half of it. Fifty million."