Chapter 4: The Hidden Heir

Jackim's mind spun. Heir? My parents? What the hell is going on?

Victor Harrington leaned back in his chair, his sharp gray eyes locked onto Jackim as if he were a puzzle to be solved.

Jackim swallowed hard. "I don't understand… My parents—"

"—never told you the truth," Victor interrupted, his voice firm. "Because they couldn't."

The fire in the marble fireplace crackled softly, the only sound in the vast room. Jackim felt as if the walls were closing in.

"Who were they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Victor studied him for a long moment before he spoke. "Your father was a man of great influence, far beyond what you can imagine. Your mother… she was the key to everything."

Jackim's hands tightened into fists. "Then why did I grow up poor? Why did I struggle for every damn meal while everyone else had everything?" His voice rose, frustration leaking out.

Victor's expression didn't change. "Because power and wealth come with enemies. Your father made a choice—to keep you hidden."

Jackim clenched his jaw. Hidden? From what? From whom?

Victor reached into a drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope, placing it on the table between them. "This was left for you."

Jackim hesitated before picking it up. The envelope was old, the edges worn. His name was written on the front in familiar handwriting.

His mother's.

His fingers shook as he tore it open. Inside was a single letter.

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> My son,

If you are reading this, then my greatest fear has come true. I wish I could have been there to tell you myself, but fate is cruel.

You are not meant for an ordinary life, Jackim. You were born with a legacy that many would kill for. That is why we had to hide you.

There are people who will seek to destroy you, not because of who you are now, but because of what you could become.

Trust no one easily. Be careful with your heart, for those closest to you will be your greatest test.

And most of all, never forget who you truly are.

Your father believed you would rise above all of this. So do I.

We love you, always.

—Your mother

Jackim's grip on the letter tightened. His vision blurred for a second, but he refused to let the emotions overwhelm him.

His mother's words felt like a puzzle missing its last piece. He had always wondered why he had no real past, why there were no photos of his parents, why everything about his family seemed… erased.

And now, the answer was here.

They had hidden him. On purpose.

He exhaled sharply and looked at Victor. "If my father had so much influence, why didn't he fight back? Why not leave something behind for me?"

Victor studied him carefully before responding. "Because it wasn't about money, Jackim. It was about survival. And now… it's your turn to decide whether you'll take what's yours."

Jackim glanced at the letter again. What's mine? What does that even mean?

Victor rose from his chair and walked toward a massive bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling. Without hesitation, he pulled on an old leather-bound book.

A click echoed through the room.

The bookshelf slid open, revealing a hidden vault behind it.

Jackim's breath caught.

Inside the vault, documents and small ornate boxes lined the shelves. Stacks of gold bars and unmarked black credit cards sat in perfect order.

Victor stepped aside. "Your father left you this."

Jackim took a slow step forward, his heart hammering.

He reached out, fingers grazing the cool metallic surface of the gold. A small box caught his attention, sitting separately from the others. It was black with golden carvings.

"This…" Jackim whispered.

Victor nodded. "Your father said you'd understand when the time was right."

Jackim opened the box.

Inside was a ring.

A simple silver band, yet its center shimmered with an eerie blue glow.

The moment his fingers touched it, a sharp shock ran through his body.

Jackim's vision blurred for a moment. A cold, heavy feeling settled in his chest.

Victor watched carefully. "It's reacting to you."

Jackim clenched the ring in his fist. "What is this?"

Victor didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed the vault door behind them.

"There's more to your inheritance than wealth, Jackim," he finally said. "The world you know is only the surface. There are forces at play that most people can't even comprehend."

Jackim's mind whirled. He thought this was about money—about some long-lost fortune.

But this was bigger.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice low.

Victor gave him a knowing look. "I'm saying that your bloodline is not ordinary. And soon… others will realize that you are back."

Jackim didn't like the way that sounded.

"Who exactly are these 'others'?" he asked.

Victor's expression darkened. "Enemies. People who will do anything to make sure you never claim what is rightfully yours."

Jackim exhaled, his mind trying to process everything. He had spent his entire life as a nobody—mocked, abandoned, looked down upon.

Now, he was being told he was the heir to something bigger than himself.

And with it came danger.

Victor folded his arms. "You have two choices, Jackim."

Jackim looked at him, waiting.

"You can walk away from this now. Forget everything. Go back to your life—being ignored, being insulted, having nothing."

Jackim's fingers tightened around the letter. He already knew what was coming next.

"Or," Victor continued, "you can accept your inheritance. But be warned… once you step into this world, there is no turning back."

Jackim's mind raced. The logical part of him screamed walk away.

But deep down, something else whispered to him.

Isn't this what you wanted? A chance? A way out?

No one had ever given him power. No one had ever treated him as more than a worthless nobody.

Until now.

His fingers closed around the ring. His mother's words echoed in his mind.

> Trust no one easily. Be careful with your heart.

Jackim looked Victor in the eye.

"I'm in."

Victor's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Good."

He walked to the side of the room, opening a cabinet. Inside were several neatly folded black suits and coats. He pulled one out and tossed it toward Jackim.

"Then it's time to get started."

Jackim caught it, his grip firm. He exhaled slowly.

No more begging. No more being looked down upon.

This was the start of something new.

But deep down, he had a feeling…

This was just the beginning.

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