The True Heir Returns

Chapter 9: Never been this alone before

The mansion had become a prison. Anthony woke each morning to cold silence. The servants avoided him. The sisters glared at him.

Vivica refused to be in the same room. And Reginald had transformed from distant father to active enemy.

The board meetings were the worst.

Anthony sat at the conference table, his documents spread before him. The other board members shifted uncomfortably. Reginald sat at the head, his face carved from stone.

"I propose we reject the new logistics partnership," Reginald announced. "The risk is too high."

Anthony looked up. "Father, I analyzed the numbers. The partnership would increase our efficiency by twenty percent. The risk is minimal."

"I said no." Reginald's voice was ice. "My decision is final."

Marcus Webb, seated as a guest observer, smirked. "Maybe the country boy doesn't understand how business works. Sometimes you have to listen to your elders."

Jonathan, watching via video call from his bed, smiled. "Father knows best, Anthony. You should trust him."

Anthony kept his face calm. "I'm not questioning Father's judgment. I'm presenting data. If we reject this partnership, we're leaving money on the table."

"Money you don't have," Reginald snapped. "Just because you won the lottery doesn't mean you understand corporate strategy."

The board members exchanged glances. Some looked uncomfortable. Others looked amused.

Anthony folded his documents. "Understood. I'll withdraw the proposal."

"Good." Reginald turned away. "Now, about the quarterly projections..."

Anthony sat back in his chair. He'd expected resistance. But this was different. This was targeted. Reginald was publicly humiliating him, showing everyone that Anthony had no power.

Fine, Anthony thought. Let him have his moment. I'll wait.

The humiliation continued at home.

Anthony walked into the dining room to find his seat missing. Not occupied but missing. The chair had been removed, leaving an empty space at the far end of the table.

Beatrice giggled. "Oh, I'm sorry, Anthony. Did we forget your chair?"

Giselle waved a dismissive hand. "He can stand. He's used to it, I'm sure."

Evangeline added, "Farmers work on their feet, don't they? Standing for dinner should be natural."

Anthony stood in the doorway. His face was calm, but his hands tightened at his sides.

"Does Father know about this?"

"Father approved it," Giselle said sweetly. "He said if you're going to act like a servant, you can eat like one."

Vivica appeared in the doorway, her eyes cold. "You pushed my son down the stairs. You don't deserve a seat at this table. You don't deserve anything." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "I don't know who you really are, but you're not my son. My son would never harm Jonathan. My son would never hurt this family."

Anthony met her gaze. "I didn't push him."

"Liar." Vivica's hand shot out. She slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed through the dining room.

Anthony's head snapped to the side. His cheek stung. He tasted blood on his lip.

He didn't move. He didn't react.

Vivica stared at him, breathing heavily. "That's for Jonathan. And if you ever touch him again, I'll do worse."

She swept out of the room.

The sisters watched, their faces a mix of shock and satisfaction.

Beatrice whispered, "He didn't even flinch."

"He's used to it," Giselle said. "Animals don't feel pain the same way we do."

Anthony wiped the blood from his lip. He looked at the empty space where his chair should have been.

Then he turned and walked out of the room.

In the corridor, he found Carmen.

She was crying. "Anthony, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop them. I told Jonathan it was too much, but he just laughed."

Anthony touched his swollen lip. "Don't apologize. This is what they want. Let them have it."

"It's getting worse. Jonathan is planning something bigger. He wants to destroy you completely."

"I know."

Carmen grabbed his arm but he withdrew from her hold. She instinctively understood her mistake. "What are you going to do?"

Anthony looked at her. "I'm going to wait. And when the time comes, I'm going to show them exactly who I am."

***

The next morning, Anthony found his office in the west wing ransacked.

Papers scattered everywhere. His laptop screen cracked. His clothes thrown across the floor. And on his desk, a single note: Leave now, or worse will come.

Anthony picked up the note. He recognized the handwriting as Giselle's. She'd always had messy, dramatic penmanship.

He didn't clean the mess.

Instead, he took a photo and sent it to Reginald with a message: Is this your idea of family?

Reginald replied an hour later: If you can't handle a little roughhousing, maybe you should leave.

Anthony smiled.

He had the evidence now. The threats. The violence. The complete rejection. When the time came to expose Jonathan, he'd have everything he needed.

***

At the office, Reginald continued his campaign.

"I don't want Anthony in any more meetings," Reginald announced to his assistant. "He's a distraction. A liability."

"But sir, he's a major shareholder—"

"I don't care. Keep him away from me."

Anthony heard about the order within hours. He wasn't surprised. Reginald had made his stance clear.

But Anthony had other cards to play.

He contacted Dr. Morrison.

"Dr. Morrison," Anthony said calmly, "I know about the bribe. I know you're lying about Jonathan's recovery time."

The doctor's voice trembled. "I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't insult my intelligence. You've been paid to exaggerate his injury. You're not a criminal yet, but you're close. If I go to the medical board, you'll lose your license."

"What do you want?"

"I want the truth. When the moment comes, you'll tell the family that Jonathan is faking. You'll admit to the bribe. And you'll do it publicly."

The doctor was silent for a long moment. Then: "Jonathan will destroy me."

"Jonathan is already destroyed. He just doesn't know it yet. Help me, and you'll be protected. Refuse, and you'll lose everything."

Dr. Morrison agreed.

By evening, Anthony returned to the mansion.

He found the family gathered in the sitting room, their faces grim. Reginald stood in the center, his arms crossed.

"Anthony," Reginald said, "we need to talk."

Anthony walked in slowly. "I'm listening."

"The board has been discussing your position. We've decided to formally limit your influence."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're barred from all future board meetings. You can keep your shares, but you have no voting power. You're a silent partner now. Nothing more."

Anthony felt the blow. He'd expected something, but this was worse than he'd imagined. Reginald had stripped him of his power entirely.

"On whose authority?" Anthony asked.

"Mine. And the board's." Reginald stepped closer. "You thought you could buy your way into this family. You thought money made you one of us. It doesn't. You'll never be one of us. You're a mistake. A complication. An embarrassment."

Vivica nodded. "We've been too lenient with you. Jonathan was right. You're not family. You're just a burden."

Anthony looked at each of them—Reginald, Vivica, Giselle, Evangeline, Beatrice. Their faces were hard with contempt.

He said nothing.

He turned and walked out of the room.

In the hallway, he stopped. He leaned against the wall, his breathing shallow.

I've never been this alone, he thought. In my past life, I had no family. No one. But here, I have the memory of a family that hated me. Is that worse?

His phone buzzed. A text from Carmen: Jonathan is meeting with Apex tomorrow. He's going to finalize the deal. What do I do?

Anthony typed back: Let him. I have a plan.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and walked toward the east wing.

Jonathan's room was dim, lit only by a single lamp. Jonathan lay in bed, his face peaceful, his leg elevated in its cast.

Anthony knocked on the doorframe.

Jonathan opened his eyes. "You again? Haven't you had enough humiliation for one day?"

"Almost." Anthony walked into the room. "I just wanted to congratulate you."

"Congratulate me?"

"You've won. Everyone hates me. I've been stripped of my power. I'm nothing."

Jonathan smiled. "You're finally understanding. Welcome to reality, country boy."

Anthony nodded slowly. "But I want you to know something."

"What?"

"I'm not finished. You might have won today. But the war isn't over."

Jonathan laughed. "What are you going to do? You have nothing. No power. No allies. No family."

Anthony smiled. "That's what you think."

He turned and walked out.