The Silent Heir

The Will

(The Next Day)

Rowan’s father’s funeral was being carried out while he stood at the back, watching coldly, his hands resting in his pockets, face calm like he was observing a stranger’s burial rather than the man who gave him life.

The air was filled with low sobs and murmurs, but his attention stayed on the front where the woman dressed in black cried loudly, her body shaking as if she had lost everything, while Alan, her son stood beside her, holding her shoulders and speaking softly to comfort her.

To everyone else, it looked like grief, but to Rowan, it looked forced, like something practiced too many times.

The tears came too easily and the reactions too timed. He didn’t care enough to call it out. Whether it was real or fake made no difference to him. He just wanted it to end.

After everything was done, family headed back inside, and the moment the doors closed, the atmosphere changed.

The noise died down, and what remained was tension. Rowan walked in without hesitation and took a seat calmly, like he belonged there, while Alan and his mother stared at him with eyes that didn’t bother hiding their hostility.

It wasn’t just dislike. It was the kind of look people give when they wish someone didn’t exist at all. Rowan ignored it completely, his expression unchanged as the lawyer arrived shortly after.

The lawyer stepped forward, adjusted his suit, and spoke in a formal tone. “I was entrusted with the will of late Mr. Ashford.”

Rowan didn’t react.

The document was opened, and the reading began.

Properties, Shares, Assets, The company.

Everything.

Every single thing went to the mistress and her son, and not a single word mentioned Rowan.

There was no line about him or even his name; it was like he doesn't exist.

Rowan sat there quietly as the lawyer continued to read, his voice steady and professional, listing everything that had been handed over like it was just another routine case.

Alan tried to keep a straight face, but the satisfaction was obvious, while the woman beside him lowered her head slightly, pretending to be emotional, but the relief was clear if you looked closely.

Rowan smiled just a little like something had been confirmed.

He didn’t say anything as the lawyer finished reading the will, his gaze resting on the two people in front of him, calm and steady.

Rowan already knew the truth.

The company they had just inherited… belonged to his mother.

That was the only reason he had come back, and not for the man in the coffin or for this house.

His fingers tapped lightly against his knee as his thoughts settled, and his expression turning colder and sharper, but still controlled.

People like them… they didn’t build anything, but waited and hovered.

Circled like vultures around something they didn’t create, then claimed it the moment it was handed to them, acting like ownership meant they deserved it.

Alan… a man who probably thought profit margins were something you guessed, and strategy was just luck.

And the woman beside him… someone who treated everything like decoration, including the life she stepped into.

Rowan let out a faint breath.

They were unqualified, short-sighted, and damn greedy.

The kind of people who ruin everything they touch.

A faint smile returned to his lips; he didn’t need to argue or fight them here.

Let them hold it and sit comfortably for now, thinking they had won something, because people like them always make the same mistake… they think getting something is the same as keeping it.

Rowan’s gaze stayed on them, calm and unreadable.

He would make sure they lost everything.

Every last piece of it.

And when it was done… he would take back what belonged to his mother from two people who didn’t even understand what they were holding.

After everything, silence lingered for a moment before Alan suddenly broke into a grin, the kind that came from thinking he had already won.

He stood up and walked over to Rowan slowly, his steps relaxed, eyes filled with mockery as he looked down at him like there was nothing worth taking seriously anymore.

“So…” Alan said, dragging out the word with a low chuckle. “How does it feel?”

Rowan didn’t respond.

Alan leaned slightly closer, his grin widening. “Standing here… watching your own father leave you nothing. Not a single cent.” He clicked his tongue. “That’s got to hurt.”

Rowan’s eyes rested on him, calm and unreadable, like he was looking at something beneath notice.

That look only made Alan’s expression turn ugly.

“What?” he scoffed. “You think staying quiet makes you look proud?” He let out a short laugh. “You’re just a broke fool who got kicked out and came crawling back hoping for scraps.”

Rowan said nothing.

Alan continued, his voice getting sharper. “Let me make it clear for you… you’ll never be rich in your lifetime. Not even close. People like you? You struggle just to survive. You count coins while people like us move money.”

He took a step back, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick bundle of cash, waving it casually in front of Rowan’s face.

“You’ve probably never seen this much at once,” he said with a smirk. “Tell you what…”

He lifted one foot slightly, tapping his shoe against the floor.

“Get on your knees,” Alan said, his tone turning mocking and cruel. “Lick my shoes, and I’ll give this to you.”

The room went still and even the mistress didn’t interrupt; instead, she chuckled silently. Other members saw it and stayed quiet. Alan and his mom hold the Ashford family power now.

Alan laughed lightly. “Come on. It’s a good deal for someone like you. Or is your pride worth more than your empty pockets?”

Rowan looked at him for a second longer, then he smiled a faint calm and cold smile enough to make something in the air shift.

He stood up slowly without rush or warning.

Alan frowned slightly, still holding the cash, not understanding the change, but he still stood tall, thinking the arrogant son had finally yielded.

Rowan stepped closer.

His gaze dropped slightly, meeting Alan’s eyes, deep and steady, like something had finally decided to move.

Then his hand shot forward fast and clean.

Before anyone could react, Rowan grabbed Alan by the back of the head and slammed it down onto the table.

Bang.

The sound cracked through the room.

Alan didn’t even get a chance to shout as Rowan didn’t stop.

He pulled his head up slightly and slammed it down again.

Bang.

This time, there was blood.

The bundle of cash slipped from Alan’s hand, scattering across the floor as his body went weak, his breath breaking into a sharp whimpering gasp.

Rowan released him.

Alan collapsed against the table, one hand clutching his head, blood already dripping down his face, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

The room froze, but no one dared moved.

Rowan stood there, his expression calm and breathing steady like nothing had just happened.

He looked down at Alan briefly, then kicked the scattered bundle toward him, his voice dropping, calm but carrying a quiet weight.

“Keep it… you’ll need every note to put your face back together.”

With that, he turned; didn’t wait or look back, and walked out of the house like the entire scene behind him had already stopped existing. He heard Alan’s mother cussing, but he just grinned.

He wasn’t done with them.