The Last Inheritance

Chapter Eight

Alan Voss stood in his BrightStar office, his heart pounding.

The image of Elias Kane wouldn’t leave his mind — the Rolls-Royce, the black SUVs, the tailored suit. It all felt too real, like something a broke janitor couldn’t possibly afford or fake.

“KaneTech’s heir?” Alan whispered, his hands shaking as he picked up his phone.

He called Victor Dray.

Victor answered, his voice slightly distorted. “Alan, what’s going on? I’m with Mara.”

Alan took a deep breath. “Elias Kane came to my office. He says he’s Amelia Kane’s son — the CEO of KaneTech.”

Victor let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Mara’s ex? The janitor? He’s bluffing.”

Alan’s voice trembled. “He had a Syndicate keycard. A full security convoy. It didn’t feel fake — it felt real.”

There was a long pause on the line. Then Victor said, quietly but firmly:

“Say that again.”

Dray put the call on speaker as he stood in Mara’s bedroom with her,

Mara, holding a glass of wine, froze when she heard Alan’s voice coming through the phone:

“Elias Kane, Mara’s ex, claims he’s Amelia Kane's son, and the heir to KaneTech.”

Her eyes widened. “Elias? KaneTech?, isn't that company dead already”

Dray’s expression turned cold. “A janitor pretending to be rich. He’s a fraud, Mara.”

She slowly set her glass down, her voice tight. “He wasn’t always nothing, Victor.”

Dray scoffed. “You’re still too soft on that loser. We need to talk to the family.”

Mara gave a tense nod, her stomach churning. “Call them. Now.”

Dray quickly sent a message to Trent, Carla, and Vivian —Mara’s mother.

“Let’s meet in the living room in five minutes. Emergency meeting.”

Carla had been living with the Vosses since college —more than an assistant, less than family.

The Voss family living room glowed under the chandelier’s soft light. Trent was stretched out on a leather couch, with Carla sitting beside him, slowly sipping her coffee. Vivian, Mara’s mother, sat upright and tense, her silver hair neatly tied back. 

Dray was walking back and forth, while Mara stood near the fireplace, clearly on edge.

“We’ve got a serious problem,” Dray began, with a low tone. “Alan Voss just called. Elias Kane showed up claiming he’s Amelia Kane’s son — and the heir to KaneTech, which was worth trillions when Amelia died, and is the only tech company bigger than ours — the one we’re still in debt to.

Trent burst out laughing. “The janitor? There’s no way he has that kind of influence —or that kind of inheritance.”

Carla leaned forward, her expression pale. “Alan sounded really shaken. He said Elias came in a full Rolls-Royce convoy, dressed like royalty.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “He went to BrightStar, she added.”

Dray nodded. “He’s digging into the 2015 contract. Trying to stir things up.”

Vivian’s face turned pale. She folded her hands tightly in her lap. “KaneTech… Amelia Kane,” she said quietly.

Trent raised an eyebrow. “What, Mom? You know something?”

Vivian glanced at Mara, then quickly looked away. “I knew Amelia. A long time ago.”

Mara stepped toward her. “What do you mean, Mom?”

Vivian’s voice softened, her gaze far away. “Back in the ’90s, during KaneTech negotiations. She was — always one step ahead of everyone. And she always had a little boy with her, holding on to her skirt.”

Trent scoffed. “So what? That doesn’t prove Elias is really her son.”

Vivian frowned, thinking hard. “She used to call the boy her son. I never saw his face clearly—he was just a little kid, maybe four. Could that have been Elias?” She shook her head, confused.

Mara’s heartbeat quickened. “Amelia’s son? Elias?” her voice trembled.

Dray rolled his eyes. “He’s a fraud, Mara. A janitor can’t run KaneTech.”

Mara shot him a look. “Forget who he used to be — just look at what’s happening right now. Everything’s pointing to him.”

Her chest tightened, remembering what she’d said at the gala: “He’s nothing.”

Carla leaned in to Trent, whispering, “She’s defending him again. She’s slipping.”

Trent nodded, face hard. “She needs to choose—us or him.”

Vivian heard them and cut in, her voice sharp. “If Elias really is Amelia’s son, then he’s not a nobody.”

Dray folded his arms. “Amelia’s gone. KaneTech is finished. Elias is just trying to stir things up.”

Vivian narrowed her eyes. “Amelia didn’t play games. She built a trillion-dollar company from nothing. If that boy is her son... we’ve got a problem.”

Carla frowned. “But is he really her son?”

Mara walked back and forth, her heels clicking on the floor. “I called him nothing,” she said quietly. “But what if I was wrong?”

Dray rolled his eyes. “You’re letting this mess get to you. I’ll check everything about KaneTech’s — he’s lying.”

Mara said nothing, just gave a pale look.

Vivian leaned back, thinking hard. “I remember a board meeting back in ’95,” she said to Mara. “Amelia brought the same little boy with her — he was drawing on papers. She told me he’d inherit everything one day. If that boy was Elias…” Her voice faded.

Trent laughed. “A janitor inheriting trillions? Be serious, Grandma.”

Vivian gave him a sharp look. “Don’t mock Amelia’s bloodline. She crushed anyone who got in her way. Her son might be just like her.”

Carla shifted uncomfortably. “Then why was he a nobody all these years?”

Mara stopped walking and turned to Vivian. “You really think Elias could be her son?”

Vivian nodded slowly. “It’s possible. Amelia kept her personal life quiet, far away from the media. I haven't seen the boy’s face in over 20 years.”

Mara’s chest tightened. “Maybe I judged him too soon,” she whispered.

Dray’s phone buzzed — a text from his Voss lawyer: “Amelia Kane’s records show she had a son, It might really be him.”

Dray’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t over,” he said, staring at Mara.

“I’ll prove he’s lying.”

Mara didn’t back down. “Or maybe he’s not.”

Carla pulled Trent aside and whispered, “Mara’s starting to turn on Dray. If Elias is really rich, we’re in trouble.”

Trent smirked. “Let Dray deal with him. This Janitor won’t come out on top.”

Carla nodded slowly, as her eyes drifted to Vivian, unsure.

After everyone left, Vivian sat by the window, thinking all alone.

“Amelia Kane,” she whispered. “Your son’s shaking things up now.”

She thought back to that meeting in ’95, her little boy beside her.

Was it really Elias? She just couldn’t remember his face.