Chapter Two: The Four Heirs

There’s a certain kind of silence that settles in a room right before your life changes forever.

The man standing in front of me—tall, cold, controlled—was the same one who’d asked about Paris. As if I was just going to blurt out, “Oh yeah, I totally took a spontaneous trip to France and forgot about it. Oops.”

I hadn’t. I was sure of that.

…Wasn’t I?

“What do you mean Paris?” I asked, carefully watching his expression.

He studied me with those glacier-blue eyes like he was reading a lie I hadn’t even told yet.

“You were seen there. With someone. Around the time your father’s deal went sideways.”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not possible.”

“You don’t remember,” he said—not a question. A conclusion.

“No,” I admitted, because lying felt pointless. “I’ve never even left the country.”

His jaw twitched, just slightly. “Then we have a bigger problem.”

And with that cryptic little gem, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind him.

I should’ve run. Bolted down the hallway, screamed, fought, something.

But instead, I stood there, staring at the folder on the bed and the open door beyond it, wondering what the hell kind of rabbit hole I’d fallen into.

Ten minutes later, I was being escorted—more like herded—down a winding staircase by the elegant woman who had dropped me off in my room earlier. She still hadn’t told me her name, and honestly, I wasn’t sure she ever would. She moved like someone who wasn’t used to being questioned.

The house was ridiculous. Like the kind of mansion you see in magazines that rich people buy just to show off. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Art on the walls that probably cost more than my entire life.

We entered a massive room that looked like a private lounge: dark velvet furniture, a fire glowing in the hearth, a bar in the corner stocked with more bottles than I could name. Low lighting, smooth jazz humming from invisible speakers, and tension thick enough to choke on.

And there they were.

The four heirs.

All deadly. All entirely different.

They sat like kings in their den, each owning a corner of the space in a way that told me exactly who they were—without them saying a single word.

I didn’t want to admit it, but something about them all together was… magnetic. Dangerous, yes, but captivating in that slow-burn, ruin-your-life kind of way.

The blond one—confident and clean-cut—stood first. The one who’d called me “sunshine” earlier.

“Nikolai,” he said with a small nod. “But you can call me Nik.”

Like we were at some kind of twisted meet-and-greet.

Next to him, lounging with his boots kicked up and a whiskey glass in hand, was Tattoo Guy. Still grinning like the devil on vacation.

“Jace,” he said. “No nickname. No touching my stuff. And no running.”

I blinked. “Is that… something you say to everyone you kidnap?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Nik rolled his eyes.

The one with the coin stood next, spinning it between his fingers with almost lazy grace. His curls fell just into his eyes, but his expression was anything but relaxed. He was watching me too closely, like he was trying to peel my skin back to see what was underneath.

“I’m Enzo,” he said. “I like games. Don’t play one unless you plan to win.”

Then finally, the one who had questioned me earlier—Kai. All-black clothes, ice-cold stare, and the kind of aura that warned you to keep your distance.

He didn’t bother standing.

“Kai,” he said simply.

That was it.

One word. No emotion. No interest.

Just Kai.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust my voice not to betray the panic still tightening my chest.

“Don’t look so scared,” Jace said, his smile widening. “We’re not going to kill you.”

“Yet,” Enzo added with a wink.

Nik sighed like he was already tired of the theatrics. “Enough. We’ve brought you here because your father’s betrayal cost us dearly. You being here balances the scales—temporarily.”

“And what does that actually mean?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound steady.

“It means,” Kai said coolly, “you follow our rules, stay out of trouble, and we don’t bury you in the backyard.”

That sounded like a joke, but no one laughed.

I swallowed hard. “And if I don’t?”

“Then things get… unpleasant,” Jace said, and for the first time, his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nik took a slow step toward me. “We don’t want a prisoner. But don’t mistake that for mercy. You’re here because you’re useful. You cooperate, and we’ll treat you as… a guest.”

I met his gaze. “And when the ‘debt’ is paid?”

His expression didn’t change. “Then we decide what to do with you.”

Something cold slid down my spine.

“Cool,” I said, forcing a smile. “You should really write Hallmark cards.”

Jace laughed, genuinely. “Oh, I like her.”

Kai stood abruptly, the scrape of his chair loud in the silence. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

I was sent back to my room, still under “escort,” which basically meant the mystery woman followed me like a silent shadow. The folder with my name on it was still on the bed, untouched. I didn’t open it again.

Not yet.

I didn’t sleep much. Not with the cameras watching, not with the knowledge that four dangerous men were just down the hall, and definitely not with the Paris comment bouncing around my head like a loose marble.

There were things I didn’t understand.

Things I didn’t remember.

And that scared me more than anything.

The next morning, I was summoned.

Yeah. Summoned.

Like I was some medieval peasant and they were royalty.

The same woman guided me down to what I assumed was the dining room—except it looked more like a luxury boardroom with food. A long mahogany table. A chandelier that probably weighed more than I did. And food. So much food.

Fresh fruit. Eggs. Toast. Pastries. Bacon. Sausages. Everything.

Nik was already seated, reading something on his tablet. Enzo was sipping coffee like a Parisian prince, legs crossed, unbothered. Jace was buttering a croissant like it was an act of war. And Kai? Kai wasn’t there.

I hovered awkwardly near the door.

“You can sit,” Nik said without looking up.

“I’m good here.”

Jace smirked. “Suit yourself.”

Enzo gestured at the spread. “Eat. Or don’t. But we’re not going to poison you. Not this early, anyway.”

“Comforting,” I muttered, but sat anyway. My stomach was in knots, but I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before, and I wasn’t about to let them see me fall apart.

I reached for a piece of toast, avoiding eye contact.

Nik looked up then, setting his tablet down. “We need to talk.”

“Shocker.”

He didn’t rise to the sarcasm. “You may not remember what your father was involved in, but the consequences are real. There’s a war brewing. You’re now part of it—whether you like it or not.”

“Great. Can’t wait to update my resume.”

Jace chuckled.

Nik’s tone stayed serious. “You’re going to be watched. There are rules. You’ll be informed of them. Break them, and there are consequences.”

“Let me guess—those ‘unpleasant’ ones you mentioned yesterday?”

Enzo leaned forward. “Smart and sarcastic. We’re going to have fun with you.”

Before I could respond, the door opened again.

Kai stepped in, eyes locked on me.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

Behind him was someone I didn’t expect.

Someone I hadn’t seen in three years.

Someone who should’ve been dead.

My heart stopped.

“Dad?” I whispered, the toast slipping from my hand.

He looked right at me.

Alive. Unscarred. Breathing.

And then he spoke:

“You weren’t supposed to see me, Rory.”