The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed

Chapter 008

The next morning, Silas stood at the grand gates of the sprawling estate.

The towering iron structure loomed over him, intricate patterns carved into its surface. Behind it lay the heart of the clan he had never known.

“This is it,” Silas muttered, gripping the strap of his bag.

The butler, a composed man with a graying beard, approached him. “Young Master, they’re waiting.”

Silas swallowed hard. The term still felt foreign, like a coat that didn’t quite fit.

But he nodded, stepping through the gates and into a world that felt like it belonged to someone else.

The estate was massive—manicured lawns, fountains that sparkled under the sun, and a mansion that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Inside, the halls were just as grand, with chandeliers casting soft light on marble floors.

They entered a room filled with people. Conversations halted as heads turned. Silas felt their eyes on him—some curious, others cold.

A few older women whispered behind their hands, their disapproval evident.

“This is Silas,” the butler announced, his voice steady. “He is one of us.”

A middle-aged man with sharp features stepped forward, his gaze piercing. “He doesn’t look like much,” the man muttered.

“He’s the Young Master,” the butler replied firmly, though Silas noticed the hesitation in his tone.

A younger woman approached, her smile warm. “Welcome,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Clara. It’s nice to meet you.”

Silas shook her hand, grateful for the kindness. “Thank you.”

“Apparently we’re cousins!” She added with a chirpy smile. Silas flashed a smile back at her.

But the warmth was fleeting. Another voice cut through the tension. “Is this a joke?”

Silas turned to see a man standing near the back of the room. He was tall, his expression a mix of disdain and disbelief.

The butler cleared his throat. “Please, everyone. Let’s move to the study. The Patriarch will meet him there.”

The murmurs followed them as they walked, but Silas kept his head high.

---

In the study, the Patriarch sat behind a massive desk, his presence commanding.

His hair was silver, his eyes sharp, and his posture spoke of a man who had seen and done more than most.

“So,” the Patriarch began, his voice low but powerful. “You’re the one.”

Silas shifted uncomfortably. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

The Patriarch studied him for a long moment. “Tell me about your background.”

Silas hesitated. “I don’t know much. I grew up in foster care. Never knew my parents.”

“And yet you’re here,” the Patriarch said. He leaned forward. “Do you know what this means? To claim to be one of us?”

Silas met his gaze. “I didn’t come here to lie. I don’t want anything that isn’t mine.”

The Patriarch’s expression softened, just slightly. “Let’s see the proof.”

Silas blinked. “Proof?”

“Your birthmark,” the Patriarch said. “If you are who you claim to be, it will be there.”

The butler stepped forward. “May I?”

Silas nodded, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the brown star sign on his forearm.

The room fell silent as the Patriarch leaned closer, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“It’s real,” the Patriarch murmured. “He’s the long lost heir.”

The weight of the moment hit Silas like a tidal wave as everyone bowed their heads towards him.

For years, he had been no one. He had been told he was a nobody and now, he was someone.

---

“Come with me.” The butler told Silas.

“This is the clan’s family home. Under the care of the leader and patriarch but since he’s well advanced in age, that responsibility will also fall on you.” The butler explained to Silas as he led him through the mansion.

Silas was shown to a luxurious room that felt more like a palace than a living space.

“This is your personal suite,” the butler said. “And if you wish to live alone, there is a penthouse ready for you in the city.”

Silas looked around, overwhelmed. “This is... a lot.”

“You’ll get used to it,” the butler said with a small smile. “Now, there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The company,” the butler said. “The Patriarch wants you to see it. You’ll meet the interim leader.”

---

The clan’s conglomerate headquarters was a towering skyscraper that pierced the city skyline.

Inside, it was a hive of activity—executives rushing past, the hum of conversations, and the click of heels on polished floors.

Arriving at the company, the butler led Silas into the elevator.

“We’re here.” He said as the door of the elevator opened.

Silas took a deep breath as they both stepped into the boardroom, where a man in a tailored suit stood at the head of a long table.

His jaw tightened as Silas entered.

“So, you’re the golden boy,” the man said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Silas frowned. “I’m Silas.”

The man smirked. “I know who you are. I’m Mat, your foster brother. Well, ‘brother’ might be a stretch.”

Silas could feel the hostility radiating off Mat. “Nice to meet you.”

Mat’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t think for a second that you’ve earned this. I’ve been running this company, holding it together. And now they’re just handing it to you? You can’t just show up out of nowhere and take over.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Silas said calmly.

“Of course not,” Mat sneered. “That would require ambition.”

Silas clenched his fists but held his tongue. He wasn’t here to fight—not yet.

The door opened, and the Patriarch entered. He placed a hand on Silas’s shoulder.

“Everyone, meet the new leader of this conglomerate,” the Patriarch announced.

The room erupted in murmurs, but Mat’s glare said it all.

Silas took a deep breath. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was clear: his fight was just beginning.