CHAPTER 4 – PROJECT HEIR
CHAPTER 4 – PROJECT HEIR
The emergency lights flickered to life, bathing the underground corridor in a dim crimson glow.
Every shadow looked alive.
The janitor was gone.
Only the sound of dripping water remained.
Then the footsteps stopped.
A calm male voice broke the silence.
"Leave the box, Edward."
I recognized that voice instantly.
Richard.
"You've murdered enough people already," I shouted.
His laugh echoed through the tunnels.
"I've never murdered anyone."
"I simply protected what your father built."
"What did he build?"
Silence.
Then—
"A dynasty."
Four armed men emerged from the darkness.
Black suits.
Silenced pistols.
Snake tattoos winding around their wrists.
One stepped forward.
"Give us the files."
I slowly closed the metal box.
"No."
The man sighed.
"I hoped you'd make the intelligent choice."
Instead of shooting...
He smiled.
That frightened me even more.
Because men who smile before violence usually don't intend to leave witnesses.
The first punch came from behind.
Another man I hadn't seen drove his fist into my ribs.
Pain exploded through my side.
I fell but refused to release the box.
Someone kicked my hand.
Bones cracked.
The brass key slid across the concrete.
Another man reached for the files.
Suddenly—
A deafening explosion shook the tunnel.
Not a bomb.
A smoke grenade.
The corridor disappeared beneath thick white smoke.
Gunshots erupted.
Men shouted.
Someone grabbed my arm.
"This way!"
I couldn't see his face.
Only a dark hood and tactical gloves.
He dragged me through a maintenance door before sealing it behind us.
We sprinted through narrow service tunnels until the gunfire faded.
Only then did he stop.
He pulled back his hood.
A woman.
Early thirties.
Sharp green eyes.
Short black hair.
A fresh scar crossed her left cheek.
"My name is Claire."
"Who are you?"
"I worked for your father."
My instincts screamed not to trust her.
She noticed.
"Good."
"You shouldn't trust anyone."
"Not even me."
She handed me a flash drive.
"The files in that locker were copies."
"What?"
"The originals disappeared years ago."
"Then why save me?"
"Because the originals are hidden somewhere only one person can access."
"Who?"
She looked straight into my eyes.
"Your daughter."
I stared at her.
"I don't have a daughter."
Claire's expression filled with pity.
"You've believed that for twelve years."
She reached into her pocket and removed an old photograph.
It showed a little girl around five years old laughing in a sunflower field.
Around her neck hung the same silver lion pendant.
On the back was one handwritten sentence.
Charlotte Drummond. Age Five. Primary Heir.
My breathing stopped.
Charlotte.
The same name the kidnappers had called Sophia.
Claire spoke softly.
"Sophia was never just an orphan."
"She has been hiding under a false identity for seven years."
I looked back at the photograph.
At the smiling little girl.
Then at the terrified child who had stood on my doorstep carrying a baby.
The eyes were the same.
The smile was gone.
"Oh, my God..."
Claire nodded.
"Yes."
"Sophia..."
"...is your daughter."
Before I could even process the revelation, Claire's encrypted phone vibrated.
She answered.
Her face drained of all color.
"They found the mansion."
My heart lurched.
"The baby?"
She looked at me with horror.
"They're not trying to kill him anymore."
"They've learned something."
"What?"
Claire whispered the words that turned everything upside down once again.
"They just confirmed the baby's DNA."
I grabbed her shoulders.
"Tell me!"
She swallowed hard.
"The baby isn't your son."
A long silence followed.
May you like
Then she finished the sentence.
"He's Richard's."
