The Rebirth Of The Hidden Heir

Chapter 5

The study smelled faintly of paper and old leather. Logan sat behind the heavy oak desk, his eyes on the stack of files spread open. The names,hidden contracts, stashed funds, photographs. Every one of them circled back to the Rhodes.

Ethan closed the door softly behind him. “You look like a man ready to go to war,” he said, strolling toward the desk.

Logan didn’t look up. His fingers tapped against a folder stamped with the Rhodes hotel insignia. His voice was low, steady. “Not war, justice.”

Ethan raised a brow, pulling out a chair and sitting. “Justice sounds a lot more than revenge when you say it.”

Logan finally lifted his eyes, and the coldness there made Ethan pause. “The Harts destroyed me once. Now they rely on contracts, partnerships, and powerful allies to stay afloat. I'll cut those ties, and watch them crumble. No one will even want to be seen beside them.”

Ethan leaned back, studying him. “And the Rhodes?”

A faint, humorless smile ghosted across Logan’s lips. “Damian Rhodes humiliated me thrice. Once in the Hart’s mansion. Once in the lobby, once at the gala. His family owns the biggest hotel chain in the city, and they think that makes them untouchable.” His gaze hardened. “That’s the first tie I’ll cut for the Harts. The Rhodes family. If the Harts think Damian is their salvation, I’ll make him the beginning of their downfall.”

Ethan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That’s cold. You don’t even flinch when you say it. So what’s the plan? Walk in and tell the Rhodes to pack their bags?”

Logan pushed a thin folder across the desk. Ethan opened it and saw news articles, suspicious accidents, quiet lawsuits buried before reaching trial.

“They’ve buried their crimes under luxury and power,” Logan said. “But no one buries everything. There’s always a crack, once you find it, and the whole wall collapses.”

Ethan leaned forward, his grin fading into something sharper. “You want dirt.”

Logan nodded once. “Not rumors, but proof. Their political connections, their hidden deals, their cover-ups. Everything.” He gestured toward the folder. “And the moment we have enough, we cut them loose from everything and every other ally they cling to. Without the Rhodes, the Harts lose their strongest partner.”

The room went quiet for a beat. The grandfather clock ticked in the corner.

Finally, Ethan said, “You’re serious. You want me to dig into every inch of their history.”

“Yes, history, present, and future,” Logan replied flatly. “I want their rise mapped out and their fall planned step by step. No detail is too small.”

Ethan exhaled slowly, then leaned back with a smirk. “Lucky for you, I heard the Rhodes are hosting a political meeting tomorrow night. A small crowd, only insiders. Perfect for talking dirty.”

Logan’s expression didn’t change, but his voice was sharp. “Good. That’s where we’ll start.”

“I’ll send Joey,” Ethan said. “Nobody notices a waiter carrying wine glasses.”

Logan nodded. “Tell him to listen and watch. If there’s leverage,documents, recordings, even a whisper, we move on it.”

Ethan gave him a long look, his grin fading. “Logan, the Rhodes aren’t like the fools you’ve crushed before. They’ve got politicians in their pocket, judges who look away. You stir this pot, they’ll come after you very hard.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. His voice was calm, almost too calm. “That’s funny. The Hart already came after me twenty years ago. Fate brought me here. Now it’s my turn.”

The silence stretched until Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, sometimes I think you enjoy this more than you admit.”

Logan didn’t answer. He only said, “When the Rhodes fall, the Harts will follow. And Damian will realize too late that mocking me was the biggest mistake of his life.”

***

The next night, Joey wiped his tray with a practiced hand and smiled as he moved through the hotel’s service corridors. He looked like every other waiter in a black vest and white shirt, useful, invisible, forgotten. That was exactly how Ethan wanted him.

He slipped into the ballroom kitchen, listened for instructions, then took his station near the doorway that led to the private meeting rooms. Through that door tonight would pass the Rhodes inner circle, men who spoke softly but meant hard things.

The first half hour was just normal routine, top-ups, passing canapés, refilling champagne flutes. Joey watched faces more than plates. He learned where the hospitality staff gathered, where the entrances were, and who walked alone. Every pattern was a doorway to a secret.

When the private meeting broke, Joey followed the staff flow not too close, never obvious. He passed by the conference door. Voices leaked out, low and ridged with anger.

He paused.

Two men were talking inside. One voice was deep and polished. The other was flatter, urgent. Through the key slot, Joey heard snatches.

“and the renewal with Bliss,” the deeper voice said, flat and calm. “We need it closed fast. My nephew’s counting on it. Make sure your people make things easy.”

Joey stiffened. The voice belonged to Senator Gerald Rhodes.

Across from him, the other man, Director Martin Cole from Bliss Corporation, rubbed his temple. “Senator, these things take time. There are procedures, audits. If the chairman’s back in town, he’ll want to know everything. We can’t just..”

The senator laughed, soft and dry. “Chairman? Let the chairman come back. He won’t save you if you cross us. You know how the city works, Martin. You clear a little mess here, move a file there. Close a case quietly. No one asks questions.”

Martin swallowed. “But the chairman.”

“Is he back?” the senator asked, leaning forward. “That would be trouble for fools who think they can hide behind a suit. But listen to me clearly, you do as I say. You make resend the contract, you sneak it into the President or chairman's office,you forge audits if needed. Make sure Bliss Corporation renews the contract, or you end up like everyone else who stood in our way.”

A chill ran through Joey. He could hear the menace under the senator’s words like ice.

Martin paled. “Everyone who… who stood in your way?”

The senator smiled without warmth. “You remember Major Alvarez? Stubborn man. He wanted his conscience to cost him a vote. He wouldn’t bend. We handled him quickly. A robbery turned bad, that's what was reported. No one came forward. The case was closed. No link back to us. That’s how we do things.I have everything in my safe, the evidence, everything about every damn thing we've done to stay at the top. I have it in my hotelroom. I have evidence against you too, so it's easy to end you.”

Joey’s stomach dropped. Major Alvarez, he’d read the reports three months ago. A respected officer, found dead after a late-night walk. Everyone called it a robbery. But the articles had odd details, a blunt-force trauma, closed-circuit cameras that malfunctioned. Joey had thought maybe it was just another shady corner of the city.

Now he heard the senator recount it like a routine. The word handled felt like a blade.

Martin’s voice trembled. “I..I don’t want trouble. If the chairman is back, he’ll ask questions. He watches hard.”

“You know what the chairman watches,” the senator snapped. “But right now, what matters is the contract. We give you something to buy whatever you need. You get us the contract renewal. You keep your job and your life. You don’t? We make sure there’s nothing left to save.”

Joey pressed his back against the wall, the tray sweating in his hands. He could feel the room tilt. The senator named judges, inspectors, men who had simply vanished from public view. The language was calm, businesslike,like arranging lunch orders.

The senator leaned back, finishing his drink. “Do what I said, Martin. Or remember Major Alvarez. That was mercy. We can do more, we can be brutal.”

Martin swallowed hard and nodded quickly. “I’ll see to it.”

The senator laughed and the conversation slid to other things, votes to buy, favors to call in, lines to pull. Joey backed away the way he’d come, slowly, because any sudden move could catch a glance through the door.

He stepped into the corridor and breathed as if he’d just run. The tray in his hand balanced like a shield. He felt sick, then angry. He slipped down the service hall, keeping his face neutral. He dropped the tray midway.

He turned his face from the building, the ballroom’s glitter and music muffled now, when he slipped out the back and into a taxi, his hands trembled a little. He called Ethan’s secure number and spoke in short bursts. Ethan told him to come straight to the safehouse.