The Rebirth Of The Hidden Heir

Chapter 2

Logan didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. Ethan didn’t press, just waited.

Finally, Logan exhaled, his voice rough. “It’s time. But no one must know it’s me.”

Ethan’s lips curved slightly. “Good. How do we begin?”

Logan turned his gaze toward him, his eyes dark but steady. “You asked how we begin?” He leaned forward,his voice low. “We dismantle every tie Isabella’s family has. Every contract, every partner, every ally. They’ll look around one day and find no one left to stand with them.”

Ethan’s brows arched. “Cold. I like it. And the rest of the city?”

A faint smile ghosted Logan’s lips. “Corrupt families, politicians, businessmen, those who think wealth makes them untouchable. I’ll drag them all down, one by one. The city won’t know who’s striking, only that someone is cutting out its rot.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “An invisible executioner.”

“It’s not an execution,” Logan corrected, his eyes narrowing. “It’s called Justice. I’ll do what the law won’t. What no one else dares.I’ll just do my job as a detective.”

Ethan gave him a look. “You’re certain about staying in the shadows?”

Logan’s smile was thin, sharp. “The shadows are where hunters live.”

With that, he pushed the door of the Bentley open and stepped in,Ethan followed behind him. The convoy left Isabella's family mansion that night, leaving behind the mansion where Logan Blackwood’s marriage had been torn to pieces.

***

The next morning, Logan hadn’t slept. Isabella’s laughter clung to him like smoke, the sting of Damian’s words replaying in his mind. Still, as the car slowed before the towering headquarters of Bliss Corporation, Logan’s jaw was set.

This was his company. His empire. But to the world, he was still just a janitor.

He pushed the glass doors open and stepped inside.

The lobby gleamed with polished marble floors, crystal lights overhead, and employees in tailored suits hurrying across the hall. His worn shirt and scuffed shoes stuck out like a stain.

The security guard at the door gave him a once-over, lip curling. “Here for janitorial work?” he asked, half-smirking.

Logan said nothing, walking past.

The guard shook his head. “My eyes are on you.”

Whispers began almost immediately. A few employees glanced his way, then looked again, nudging their colleagues. Logan’s face wasn’t unknown, word of his divorce had already spread like wildfire across the city’s elite circles.

“Logan?” The familiar voice sliced across the lobby like a whip.

He turned.

Isabella stood near the private elevators, dressed in a fitted ivory suit, her hair styled to perfection. At her side was Damian, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other resting casually at the small of her back. Together, they looked like a glossy magazine cover.

Isabella’s lips parted in disbelief before she threw her head back and laughed. “You really followed me here?” Her voice carried, drawing more curious eyes. “Damian, can you believe this? He thinks he belongs in this building.”

Damian’s smirk was quick and cruel. “He looks more like he’s here to polish the floors than to sign contracts.” He tilted his head, studying Logan as though he were some amusing insect. “Tell me, janitor, do you even know what department takes pity on strays?”

The mockery drew chuckles from bystanders. Several employees leaned closer to whisper.

“Isn’t that her ex-husband?”

“The one who used to mop floors?”

“No wonder she left him.”

Logan stood silently, his shoulders straight, eyes locked on Isabella.

The secretary at the reception desk frowned, stepping closer with her tablet clutched against her chest. She looked Logan up and down, nose wrinkling in disdain. “Excuse me,” she said sharply. “Are you lost? This isn’t the janitorial entrance. Service staff report from the rear gate.”

Isabella seized the moment, her eyes lighting with cruel delight. She laughed again, linking her arm with Damian’s. “Lost? No, he’s not lost. This is what he does best wandering into places he doesn’t belong.”

Damian squeezed her hand, smirking wider. “Maybe he came to sweep the lobby himself. Saves the company a little on cleaning bills.”

More laughter rippled through the hall.

Logan’s voice cut through the noise, calm but firm. “I’m here to see the Vice President, Victor Lane.”

The laughter stopped for a heartbeat. Then it exploded, sharper, and louder than before. Even the security guards smirked.

The secretary blinked, then scoffed openly. “The Vice President? Do you honestly think he has time for someone like you?” She leaned closer, her voice dripping with venom. “Is the Vice President a joke to you?”

Damian burst out laughing. “No, no, don’t be so cruel.” He raised his voice so the whole lobby could hear. “Maybe he’s here to check if the air conditioning is working, so he could hang around a bit. That’s more his level. He obviously can't afford one, not to take of a little handfan.”

The chuckles swelled again, the crowd savoring every word.

Isabella stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. Her smile was pure cruelty. “Logan, do you even hear yourself? Dressed like that, standing here, talking about meetings with the vice president. Take a look around here, do you honestly believe anyone in this building would take you seriously?”

Logan didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

She folded her arms, scoffing. “This is exactly why I divorced you. You spread poverty like a plague. Every second with you dragged me further down. Standing next to you is like standing next to failure itself.”

Damian leaned down, brushing his lips against her temple. “Don’t waste your breathe on him, darling. Even if he begged to meet the lowest employee here, he wouldn’t qualify. This company doesn’t take in trash.”

“Exactly,” Isabella agreed, her voice rising so the crowd could hear. “Maybe he should try HR. They might point him to the charity desk for the homeless.”

The laughter grew merciless, echoing across the gleaming lobby.

The secretary rolled her eyes. “Enough of this circus.” She straightened her blazer, turning to Logan. “Mr Man, leave now before I call security. You’re disrupting our business and creating a scene.”

Logan’s expression didn’t change. “I’m here to see the Vice President, Victor Lane.” he repeated.

The secretary’s eyes widened, as if she couldn’t believe his persistence. She gave Damian an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, Mr Rhodes. I’ll handle him.” Then she signaled discreetly to the guards near the door.

“Logan!” Isabella snapped, her voice sharp. “Stop this embarrassment right now. You’re making a fool of yourself and of me. Even if we’re divorced, your stupidity still reflects on me. Just get out before you humiliate yourself any further.”

Damian’s laughter was smooth, confident. “Let him stay. The building needs its entertainment. Nothing like a janitor who thinks he can walk into a boardroom.”

The two guards approached, ready to drag Logan out. The secretary had already turned her back on him, focusing on Damian and Isabella instead. She bowed politely, gesturing toward the private elevators. “This way, please. The Vice President is expecting you both in the VIP reception.”

Isabella smirked as she swept past Logan, deliberately brushing her shoulder against him. “Stay out of places you don’t belong,” she hissed.

Damian followed, chuckling. “Don’t scuff the floors on your way out, janitor.”

Their laughter lingered as the elevator doors slid shut.

Upstairs, behind a wide oak desk, the Vice President of Bliss Corporation, Victor Lane sat watching the live feed from the lobby cameras. His face darkened with every word, every sneer. By the time the secretary ushered Isabella and Damian into the VIP lounge, his hand was already gripping the phone.

“ My office, now,” he said coldly.

A few minutes later, the secretary entered, her expression smug, rehearsing polite greetings in her head. But the moment she saw his face, her stomach sank.

“Sir?” she said carefully.

He leaned forward, his voice low and sharp. “Are you ready to join the millions of unemployed people in this country?”

Her breath caught. “S-sir? I..I don’t understand..”

His glare was icy. “You don’t understand? Then let me make it clear. Why did you just send away my VIP guest?”

She blinked rapidly, panic rising. “VIP… guest?”

“Yes.” His voice was thunder now. “The one you signaled security to drag out. Tell me, was that your idea of hospitality?”

Her face went white. “Sir, I… I thought he was just..he looked like..”

“A beggar?” The Vice President slammed a hand on the desk. “Do you think appearances tell you everything in this company? Do you think this corporation runs on your judgment?”

The secretary shook her head frantically. “I didn’t know, I..”

“Then you’d better fix it,” he snapped. “Right now. Go. Bring him back. Do it properly this time, or consider your position here over.”

Her hands shook as she clutched her tablet to her chest. “Y..yes, sir. I'll do that right away.”

She turned and ran, her heels clacking against the polished floor, heart hammering. She was still confused about everything, why the shabbily dressed man was the Vice President's VIP guest.