PART 2 — The Heir’s Revenge
The crystal glasses were clinking inside the mansion when Eleanor stepped out onto the sunlit marble steps, deeply annoyed by a distraction. Security had reported a trespasser at the front gates. Today of all days.
The intruder was a small, ten-year-old boy, swimming in a filthy white T-shirt. A fresh, bloody scratch marked his cheek, evidence of a brutal journey. Beside Eleanor stood Marcus, the family’s towering, black-gloved head of security.
Eleanor let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
The boy didn’t flinch. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a terrifying, unnatural calm.
“My grandfather sent me,” the boy said, his voice completely