The Hidden heir’s revenge

CHAPTER 2 THE HEIR WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO EXIST

“Adrian Thorne has evidence proving that Varek is not the rightful heir.”

The words hung in the room like a death sentence.

Varek stared at the old man.

“What evidence?”

The old man retrieved his phone from the floor and ended the call.

“We need to leave this room.”

“I asked you a question.”

“And I will answer it when I know who else has access to this information.”

Varek’s jaw tightened.

For twenty-nine years, he had lived inside a lie. His grandfather had been murdered, his inheritance stolen, and his own family had attempted to kill him. Now, even the legal documents that could restore his position were being challenged by the brother who had buried him.

He was done waiting for explanations.

“Tell me your name.”

The old man studied him before responding.

“Sebastian Blackstone.”

Varek’s eyes narrowed.

The Blackstone family was not merely wealthy. Its influence stretched across banking, energy, technology, real estate, and private investments. Its companies operated in countries where ordinary businessmen could not even obtain a meeting with government officials.

For years, financial analysts had speculated about the identity of the person controlling Blackstone International.

Nobody knew the full truth.

“You own Blackstone International?” Varek asked.

“I built it.”

“Why would a man like you involve himself in my family’s affairs?”

“Because your grandfather saved my life.”

Sebastian walked toward the windows.

“Twenty-nine years ago, I was a young businessman with more ambition than sense. I had borrowed heavily to finance an international acquisition. When the deal collapsed, my creditors came after everything I owned. Your grandfather discovered what had happened and gave me enough capital to survive.”

Varek listened silently.

“He didn’t ask for shares. He didn’t demand repayment. He told me that one day, when I had enough power to help someone who deserved it, I should remember what he had done for me.”

Sebastian turned around.

“When I learned he had died, I investigated the accident. By then, your father had already taken control of the family business. Every witness disappeared, every important document was altered, and the official investigation was closed.”

“Yet you did nothing.”

The words came out sharper than Varek intended.

Sebastian accepted the accusation without flinching.

“I did not have sufficient evidence to destroy Richard Thorne without exposing my own companies to the same people who had arranged your grandfather’s death. I spent years tracing their money, identifying their allies, and finding the original inheritance agreement.”

“And you waited until they tried to kill me?”

“I was searching for you long before that night.”

“Then why didn’t you contact me?”

“Because I did not know whether you were anything like your father.”

Varek laughed bitterly.

“So you watched me work for a company that should have belonged to me while my family prepared to destroy me?”

“I watched you turn a failing division into a billion-dollar business without knowing who was responsible for your success. I watched you protect your brother from the consequences of his own mistakes. I watched you refuse opportunities to destroy people who had humiliated you.”

Sebastian approached the bed.

“I needed to know whether you wanted power because you could use it wisely or because you wanted to become the very thing you hated.”

Varek looked away.

He had spent years believing that patience would eventually earn him respect.

Instead, patience had made him an easy target.

“I’m not interested in your judgment of my character,” he said. “I want my inheritance, my company, and the truth about my grandfather’s death.”

“Then you must understand something. Your grandfather’s estate contains more than money and shares.”

“What else?”

“A controlling interest in several companies. Private investment accounts. Property holdings across three countries. And an encrypted archive containing records of every major transaction made by the original Thorne empire.”

Varek stared at him.

“How much is it worth?”

“Based on the most recent valuation, approximately thirty-two billion dollars.”

For the first time, Varek had no immediate response.

Thirty-two billion.

His father had spent years presenting himself as the unquestionable head of the Thorne empire, yet the foundation of that empire had been built on an inheritance that belonged to his eldest son.

“Why would my grandfather leave everything to me instead of dividing it among his children?”

“Because he believed you were the only person in the family who would protect what he built.”

Sebastian picked up the inheritance agreement.

“Unfortunately, your brother has discovered a document that could invalidate the trust.”

“What document?”

“A birth registration.”

Varek frowned.

“My birth registration?”

“According to the original agreement, your grandfather’s inheritance could pass only to his legitimate biological descendants. If your brother can prove that you were adopted, substituted at birth, or otherwise not the biological son of Richard Thorne, he can challenge the trust.”

Varek’s expression hardened.

“My mother gave birth to me. My father acknowledged me. There are photographs of me as a baby in that house. What nonsense is this?”

“Your grandfather’s legal team recorded a discrepancy in your birth records shortly before his death.”

“What discrepancy?”

“The hospital where you were supposedly born has no original record of your delivery.”

Varek felt something tighten in his chest.

“That hospital was demolished years ago.”

“Correct. But its archived records were transferred to another medical institution. Three months ago, someone paid a substantial amount to retrieve your file.”

“Who?”

“Your brother.”

Varek stood completely still.

He remembered the conversation he had overheard between Adrian and their father several months earlier.

They had been discussing an old family matter. When Varek entered the room, they had immediately changed the subject.

At the time, he assumed it concerned another failed investment.

Now he wondered whether they had already known the truth.

“Can you obtain the records?” he asked.

“I have someone working on it.”

“Someone?”

“Someone who has spent the last fifteen years uncovering the financial crimes of powerful families. She is very good at her job.”

“Get her here.”

Sebastian shook his head.

“You are not ready to meet anyone.”

“I’m perfectly ready.”

“You can barely walk.”

“Then I’ll sit down while she explains how my brother intends to steal thirty-two billion dollars from me.”

Sebastian stared at him for a moment before reaching for his phone.

“You remind me of your grandfather.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It was a warning.”

Sebastian made the call.

“Bring her to the estate. Now.”

He ended the call and looked at Varek.

“Until we know the truth, you must not contact anyone connected to your old life. Your family believes you are dead. We will use that advantage.”

Varek returned to the bed.

“Tomorrow night’s celebration. I want to attend.”

“You will.”

“And I want access to Blackstone International.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“You have been alive for less than two days, and you are already asking for control of my company?”

“I am asking for the resources necessary to recover what belongs to me.”

“Blackstone International is not a weapon you can borrow whenever you feel angry.”

“Then consider it an investment.”

“In what?”

Varek met his gaze.

“The destruction of the people who thought they could bury me.”

For several seconds, Sebastian said nothing.

Then he smiled.

“Perhaps I was right about you.”

Before Varek could respond, three sharp knocks sounded at the bedroom door.

The suited man entered.

“Sir, she’s here.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Send her in.”

The door opened.

A woman in her late twenties stepped inside, carrying a black laptop bag. She wore a fitted navy suit, her dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail, and her expression suggested that she had little patience for unnecessary conversation.

Her eyes moved from Sebastian to Varek.

Then she stopped.

“You said he was dead.”

“He was supposed to be,” Sebastian replied.

The woman slowly placed her bag on the table.

“That’s going to complicate things.”

Varek studied her.

“Who are you?”

“Naomi Cross. Forensic accountant and private investigator.”

“Can you prove my brother is lying?”

“I can prove almost anything if the evidence exists.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I find out who made it disappear.”

She opened her laptop.

“I’ve spent six weeks investigating the Thorne family. Your brother has moved more than two hundred million dollars through shell companies over the last eighteen months. Your father approved several of the transactions, but the final destination of the money remains hidden.”

Varek leaned forward.

“Could those transactions be connected to the eight hundred million I was accused of stealing?”

“Possibly. The amounts are different, but the transfer dates overlap.”

She turned the laptop toward him.

On the screen was a list of bank transfers, company names, and account numbers.

“These are the companies that received the money. Three are registered overseas. One is registered locally, but its ownership records have been sealed.”

Varek recognized one of the company names.

His expression changed.

“That company belongs to my father.”

Naomi looked up.

“You’re certain?”

“I negotiated a contract with them two years ago. They supplied equipment to one of our subsidiaries.”

“Then you should know the director’s name.”

“Daniel Mercer.”

Naomi’s fingers moved quickly across the keyboard.

“That’s interesting.”

“What?”

“Daniel Mercer died six years ago.”

Silence filled the room.

Varek looked at the screen.

“Then who has been signing the documents?”

“Someone using his identity.”

Naomi opened another file.

“And there is something else. Two days before you were arrested, someone transferred forty million dollars from one of the company’s private accounts. The transaction was approved using your credentials.”

“I never authorized it.”

“I know. The authorization came from a device located inside the executive chairman’s office.”

Varek’s face went cold.

His father’s office.

The room where Richard had spent years teaching him that loyalty was more important than ambition.

The room where Adrian had learned how to manipulate the people around him.

“Can you prove who used the device?”

“Not yet. But I found a recording from the building’s security system.”

She played the video.

The footage showed a man entering Richard Thorne’s office shortly after midnight.

The image was grainy, but the man’s face was visible when he turned toward the camera.

Varek stopped breathing.

It was not Adrian.

It was not his father.

It was a man Varek had never seen before.

Yet the man wore a ring Varek recognized immediately.

A silver ring bearing the original Thorne family crest.

The ring had belonged to his grandfather.

Varek had watched his father place it inside the family vault after the funeral twenty-nine years earlier.

He had been told it was the last personal possession recovered from the accident.

“How did that man get the ring?” Varek whispered.

Naomi paused the recording.

“That’s what I want to know.”

Sebastian’s expression had become unreadable.

“Show me the man’s face again.”

Naomi replayed the footage.

The elderly billionaire stepped closer to the screen.

For the first time since Varek had met him, Sebastian appeared genuinely shaken.

“Impossible,” he murmured.

Varek turned toward him.

“You know him?”

Sebastian did not answer immediately.

Instead, he reached into his jacket and removed a photograph.

It showed three men standing outside the original Thorne headquarters decades earlier.

Varek recognized his grandfather in the middle.

Richard Thorne stood on his right.

The third man was the stranger from the security footage.

Sebastian placed the photograph beside the laptop.

“His name is Jonathan Thorne,” he said quietly.

Varek stared at him.

“Who is Jonathan Thorne?”

“Your grandfather’s younger brother.”

“My grandfather never had a brother.”

“According to the official family records, he didn’t.”

Sebastian’s voice dropped.

“Jonathan was declared dead twenty-nine years ago. His body was supposedly recovered from the same accident that killed your grandfather.”

Varek looked back at the screen.

The man in the footage was alive.

And he had entered his father’s office two days before Varek’s arrest.

Naomi closed the laptop halfway.

“If Jonathan Thorne is alive, then the entire inheritance dispute is about to become much more complicated.”

Varek slowly looked at Sebastian.

“Why?”

“Because if Jonathan is your grandfather’s biological brother, he may have a legitimate claim to the original estate. And if he was involved in your grandfather’s death, he may know why your father has spent twenty-nine years hiding the truth.”

Varek’s hands curled into fists.

His father had tried to kill him.

His brother had stolen his position.

His former fiancée had celebrated his death.

But someone else had been moving behind them all.

Someone who had supposedly died before Varek was old enough to speak.

“Find him,” Varek ordered.

Naomi closed her laptop.

“I’ll need access to the original family records, the old estate accounts, and any documents your grandfather left behind.”

“You’ll have them.”

“And I need one more thing.”

“What?”

She looked directly at him.

“Your DNA.”

Varek’s expression darkened.

“You think I’m not who I say I am?”

“No,” Naomi replied. “I think someone has spent a great deal of money convincing the world that you are.”

She picked up her bag.

“Until we establish your biological identity, your brother has a weapon he can use against the inheritance. And if the birth records were altered, there is a possibility that someone switched more than a document.”

Varek felt the room grow colder.

“What are you suggesting?”

Naomi hesitated.

“I’m suggesting that before we fight for your grandfather’s empire, we should find out whether you were born into the family that raised you.”

Before Varek could respond, Sebastian’s phone rang again.

He answered.

A man’s urgent voice came through the speaker.

“Sir, we’ve found the original hospital records.”

Sebastian straightened.

“Where?”

“In a private archive belonging to the hospital’s former chief administrator.”

“And what do they say?”

The man paused.

Then he delivered the words that changed everything.

“Varek Thorne was not the only male child recorded as being born to Richard and Eleanor Thorne on that night.”

Varek stared at the phone.

“What?”

“There were two boys,” the man continued. “But only one was registered under the Thorne name.”

Sebastian slowly lowered the device.

Varek’s heart hammered against his ribs.

“Where is the other boy?”

The voice on the phone trembled.

“Sir, that is the problem.”

A pause.

“The second child was registered under a different name.”

Varek stepped closer.

“What name?”

The answer came.

“Adrian Thorne.”