The Pauper heir rises

Chapter 4

I hadn't noticed it approaching, and now the vehicle sat idling, matching my pace as I walked.

I stopped, a chill creeping up my spine. Who could this be? The window on the passenger side rolled down slightly, revealing a man in a suit. His face was shadowed, but his voice was clear and authoritative.

"Jason Walker?"

I tensed. "Who are you?" I asked looking around to make sure I was safe. I had heard lot of young kids being taken away and whisked into some part of the country to be used as either a sec slave or an houseboy. I wasn't going to be added to the chart.

"We need you to come with us," the man said calmly, his tone leaving little room for argument.

I took a step back, my eyes narrowing. "And why would I do that?"

The man didn't answer. Instead, the back door opened, and two more men stepped out, dressed in similar dark suits. They moved toward me with an unsettling calmness.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I snapped, my fists clenching. "Who the hell are you?" I shouted trying to create an attention for myself.

The men exchanged glances but remained silent. My pulse quickened as they stepped closer. Something about them felt off—too professional, too poised. They weren't regular thugs, but they definitely didn't have good intentions.

I backed away, my heart racing. "I said I'm not going anywhere with you!"

One of the men lunged forward, grabbing my arm in a vice-like grip. Instinct took over, and I twisted, using the adrenaline coursing through me to break free. My other fist shot out, connecting with the man's jaw, sending him stumbling backward.

But the men didn't fight back. Instead, the one I had hit wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded to the others. "He's putting up a fight. Grab him."

My breath hitched. They weren't retaliating—not like normal attackers. It was as if they were under orders not to harm me. But that didn't mean they wouldn't force me into the car.

Two more grabbed me, holding my arms as I struggled. Despite my best efforts, they were stronger and more coordinated. One twisted my arm behind my back, forcing me toward the open door of the car.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, my voice raw with anger.

But they didn't let go. With one final shove, they pushed me into the back seat and slammed the door shut. My heart pounded in my chest as the car sped off, leaving the quiet street behind.

My head spun as I tried to figure out who they were. I racked my brain—had I crossed someone without realizing it? I wasn't involved in anything shady, so why would someone want to abduct me? And why didn't they fight back when I resisted?

The car cruised smoothly through the city streets, heading toward a part of town I had never seen before. The buildings grew taller, the streets wider, and the wealth more apparent. After what felt like hours, they pulled up to a massive estate, its gates looming high with intricate designs. Security guards stood at attention, and the car was waved through without question.

My confusion deepened as we approached the house. It wasn't just large—it was luxurious. The kind of mansion that belonged to the city's elite, with sprawling gardens and fountains. The car pulled up to the grand entrance, where more guards stood waiting.

"Get out," one of the men said, opening the door.

I hesitated but realized I didn't have much of a choice. I stepped out, feeling the cool evening air hit my face as I took in my surroundings. The mansion in front of me was unlike anything I had ever seen—its towering columns, gleaming marble steps, and expensive sculptures screamed wealth and power.

I was led through the front doors, the interior of the house even more extravagant. The floors were polished to a mirror-like shine, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and expensive artwork lined the walls. Whoever lived here had money—serious money.

"Why am I here?" I demanded, my voice echoing in the grand hallway.

None of the men answered me as they escorted me through the mansion, their footsteps barely making a sound on the pristine floor. My anxiety grew with each step, my mind racing with possibilities. Was this some kind of ransom? But why would anyone think I was worth something? My family wasn't rich, and I hadn't done anything to attract the attention of someone like this. My mind went back to what happened in the school and my heart beat increased.

"Could it be that Ethan has called his father?" I asked myself and I got scared again.

They finally led me to a large sitting room, where an older man sat in a high-backed chair, staring out a window. His posture was rigid, his hands clasped in front of him. I could only see the back of his head, his silver hair neatly combed.

The guards left the room without a word, leaving me alone with the stranger.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

The man didn't answer right away. Slowly, he stood up, turning to face me.

My breath caught in my throat. The man's face was lined with age, his eyes sharp and calculating. But it wasn't his appearance that shocked me—it was the way the man stared at me, as if he had just seen a ghost.

"You," the man said, his voice trembling slightly. "You look exactly like him."

"Like who?" I asked, my confusion growing by the second.

The man took a step closer, his eyes never leaving my face. "Your father."

I blinked, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. My father? What did this man know about my father?