Wheel of Time: The Heir who isn't Useless

Chapter 7 – Ex’s First Desperate Approach

LYON POV

"Get out of my way," Lyon said.

He did not stop the manual wheels of his chair. The metal pushed forward against the pavement outside the university engineering building.

"Lyon, please just listen to me for one minute," Kelly said. She stepped directly into his path, her eyes red and swollen. She reached out, trying to grab the armrest of his wheelchair. "I made a terrible mistake. Oscar was using me. He took advantage of how stressed I was about finals. I never cared about him."

Lyon did not look at her face. His gaze stayed fixed on the stone steps twenty feet ahead. "Move."

"I know you hear me," Kelly sobbed, dropping to her knees on the concrete so she was at eye level with him. She grabbed the edge of his jeans. "You loved me for two years. You paid for my tuition, Lyon. You gave me everything. I know you still care. We can fix this. I dropped Oscar. I blocked his number."

"You filmed my humiliation," Lyon said. His voice was flat, devoid of any pitch or anger. "Keep the video. You will need the memory."

Kelly froze, her hands slipping from his clothes.

Around the courtyard, three students stopped their walking to point their phones.

"Is that Kelly?" one student whispered to another. "She dumped the guy in the wheelchair last week for Oscar, right? Why is she begging on her knees now?"

Lyon pushed past her without a second glance. The small front casters of his chair rolled right over the hem of her jacket.

He moved toward the library courtyard, where the quiet shadow of the oak trees offered space away from the noise. He pulled out his personal tablet, opening the encrypted interface for Blackwood Medical Holdings. A quiet line of code was executing in the background, liquidating mid-tier assets tied to the Darlington family's supply chain.

"Hey! You piece of trash!"

A heavy hand slammed onto the top of Lyon's left push-rim, forcing the wheelchair to a sudden halt.

Oscar stood over him. His designer jacket was open, his tie crooked, and his face flushed red with alcohol and rage. A small crowd of students quickly gathered around the edge of the paved circle.

"You think you can ruin my father's credit line?" Oscar shouted, leaning down until his face was inches from Lyon's. "You think because some old butler handed you a black card, you can walk around campus like you own it? You're a cripple! You're nothing! Kelly came back to you because I threw her out, not because you're special!"

Lyon did not flinch. He did not pull back from Oscar's breath. "Remove your hand from my wheel."

"Or what?" Oscar sneered. He raised his right hand, pulling his fist back. "You going to hit me? You going to stand up and fight me?"

Before Oscar's fist could move an inch forward, a thick hand wrapped around his wrist. The sound of bones grinding against each other echoed across the quiet courtyard.

Oscar shrieked. He dropped to his knees instantly, his arm twisted unnaturally behind his back.

Lancelot stood behind him. Dressed in a sharp black suit with a pin on his lapel representing Blackwood Security, the former special forces officer looked down at Oscar with dead eyes.

"Mr. Blackwood asked you to remove your hand," Lancelot said quietly.

"Let go of me! Do you know who my father is?" Oscar screamed, sweat pouring down his face as Lancelot increased the pressure on his wrist. "My father is the director of the City Commerce Board!"

"Your father's director position was revoked twenty minutes ago," Lyon said. He did not turn his head to look at Oscar. "Lancelot, drop him."

Lancelot released his grip. Oscar fell flat on his face against the dirt, clutching his broken wrist. His phone slipped out of his pocket and landed right in front of Lyon's footrest.

The screen of Oscar's phone was still recording.

"Pick up your phone, Oscar," Lyon said, his voice cold. "You filmed me last week. Now you have something for your own collection."

The surrounding students gasped. Dozens of phone cameras were flashing, capturing the image of the campus playboy groveling in the dirt beside a wheelchair.

"You... you monster..." Oscar whimpered, his face pressed against the dirt.

Lyon rolled past him without stopping. Lancelot walked two steps behind, his arms crossed, shielding Lyon from the growing crowd.

They reached the black sedan parked at the edge of the university perimeter. Lancelot opened the rear door, effortlessly lifting Lyon from his chair and placing him into the customized leather seat before folding the wheelchair into the trunk.

Inside the quiet vehicle, an elderly man in a formal grey suit was already waiting in the front passenger seat.

Mandolin turned around, holding a thick leather folder. His expression was solemn.

"Young Master," Mandolin said.

"Report," Lyon said, staring out the tinted window at the passing city lights.

"The Darlington family believes they have secured the new artificial joint patent," Mandolin reported, handing the folder back to Lyon. "They spent seventy percent of their liquid capital this morning purchasing the manufacturing rights from an offshore shell firm."

Lyon opened the folder. His fingers flipped through the financial pages with mechanical speed. "The shell firm was set up by Nathaniel."

"Yes," Mandolin said softly. "Nathaniel Darlington has been leaking their internal financial data to the old enemies for over eighteen months. The patent they bought is completely fake. It infringes on Blackwood Medical's primary patents. The moment they launch the product, the legal damages will destroy them entirely."

"They wanted a perfect heir," Lyon said, his face cold in the dark interior of the car. "They threw out the son who built their foundations, and embraced the snake that feeds on their chest."

"Dean Darlington is currently hosting a celebration dinner at the Grand Palace Hotel," Mandolin added. "He believes the family has finally crossed into the top-tier elite class."

Lyon closed the folder with a sharp click. "Let him celebrate. The higher he climbs, the harder he hits the ground."

Mandolin reached into his pocket and pulled out a encrypted satellite device. "Also, Young Master... an emergency encrypted message was just routed through your father's old private channel. It bypassed all our firewalls."

Lyon took the device. The red light on the top of the dark casing began to flash rapidly.

A single line of text appeared on the screen, sent directly to Dean Darlington's personal secure line, mirrored on Lyon's screen.

The debts you never knew about are coming due. All of them.

Before Lyon could trace the IP address, the screen went completely black, and a loud, high-pitched alarm began to blare from the vehicle's dashboard.