CHAPTER 8 NEXT HEIR

 

Max's mouth went dry. 

"Dad, I... I can explain. They overreacted to a simple confusion, I didn't mean to—"

"Really? That's all you have to say, that you didn't mean it? Max, you idiot! How will I ever die in peace, knowing that a disaster- maker like you is going to be my heir?”

Max was stunned into silence. Meanwhile, his father's voice boomed. 

“Do you have any idea what you've done? All our partners are claiming they can't work with us because you offended the Houston family! If that happens, there won't be anything left for you to inherit, except a mountain of debt!"

"Dad, I—"

"Save it!" Lucas Delacroix cut him off angrily. "I have no doubt that your careless actions must have offended someone important. So shut up and listen to me! Go back right now, and beg for forgiveness. I don't care what it takes, go on your knees, grovel, whatever! Do whatever you have to, to make this right. Fix it by tonight, or don't bother coming back!" 

The call ended abruptly, leaving Max standing there, on the verge of a nervous breakdown himself. But he didn't have time to waste on self-pity.

He looked around frantically, and his gaze finally landed on Matthew, who was being helped towards the manor house by Lady Houston. Without thinking, Max rushed forward with desperation.

"Master Houston, wait!" he cried out, throwing himself at Matthew's leg and hugging it tightly. 

His hands were wrapped around Matthew’s lower leg; while he placed his face, wet with tears, against the other side of his thigh. 

"Please, forgive me! I was blind, stupid, arrogant, just an idiot! I insulted you… I dared to say all those foolish things to a man of your status, and I can't tell you how sorry I am. Please, I beg you, forgive me… please, please, you can slap me, punch me… I'll do anything to prove how serious I am!"

As Max spoke, his grip around Matthew's injured leg tightened, squeezing it, and Matthew winced as pain shot up his leg.

A hiss of pain escaped his lips as he brought one hand to his thigh, trying to ease the burning pain.

"Let go of him!" one of the security guards shouted, rushing forward.

In an instant, he had kicked Max away, who tumbled onto the ground. Within seconds, four guards came to a stop between him and Matthew, like a solid wall of protection. 

But Max wasn't about to let them stop him; he ignored the scratches on his body and scrambled to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

"Please, I beg you," he cried out, hoping that at least his voice will be able to reach past the guards, even though he himself wouldn't.

"Forgive me, Lady Houston, Matthew, everyone. My family's future depends on it. I'm sorry, truly sorry!"

However, his pleas were met with absolute silence. Lady Houston and her guards continued moving towards the manor; nobody even spared him a glance. 

Apart from the security guards, who remained vigilant, their eyes locked on Max, almost like they were warning him not to make another move.

However, Max knew that he had already caused this dire situation for his family. And now, he didn't dare to even move a muscle.

He stayed on his knees, afraid to leave, the weight of his father's threats feeling like a mountain on top of his shoulders. 

–

As Matthew was led out of the reception hall, his gaze was drawn towards the huge manor house that stood in front of him. It was grander and more magnificent than anything he could have ever imagined. 

Although it was just late afternoon yet, this morning’s events, tainted with heartbreak and humiliation, already seemed like an old memory to him… almost as if they had happened ages ago. 

Once he was escorted inside the manor, Matthew was taken to a luxurious room on the first floor. The opulence of the room was unlike anything he had ever seen, with polished floors, rich tapestries, and gleaming chandeliers that awed him.

However, he barely had any time to take in the grandeur of the room before he was met with the team of doctors and nurses waiting for him. 

They moved with efficiency, examining his injuries. After they had cleaned and disinfected the wounds, one of the nurses led him to a large bathroom with a marble tub filled with warm water.

“Please, take a bath before we apply ointment to your wounds and change the dressing. It will help you feel better, and please just call out if you need anything."

Matthew just nodded gratefully before he sank into the tub, feeling the warmth from the water seep into his aching muscles. 

As soon as he stepped back into the room, the doctors and nurses again hovered around him, their hands gentle yet precise as they treated the injuries and gave him some painkillers. 

By the time the sun had set, Matthew had changed into a fresh set of clothes, his wounds had been bandaged and he was resting comfortably in a soft bed, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. 

The door to his room opened quietly, and the old lady entered. Without waiting for him to say anything, she moved closer to his bedside, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

“How are you feeling now, dear? Are you in any pain?" 

She asked, her voice filled with genuine concern as she looked at his bandaged hand. 

Matthew bowed his head respectfully. 

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you. The doctors have taken good care of me." 

A look of relief washed over her face. She nodded, seeming to gather herself. "Good. I'm glad you're being well looked after."

And then, she took a deep breath before she spoke again. 

"Matthew, I am here to introduce myself properly."

Matthew inhaled sharply, deciding to avoid the awkwardness by confessing that he already knew the truth. 

“Mr. Donovan has already told me about everything, Lady Houston–”

Before he could say anything further, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, surprised to see tears in the old lady's eyes.

With her voice trembling with emotion, she said, 

"I'm not Lady Houston for you. I'm your grandmother, my son."

With that, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Matthew felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he hugged her back. 

Tears fell from their eyes without any breaks, as both grandmother and grandson hugged each other; he was the closest family member that Lady Houston had left in this world, and vice versa. 

When they finally regained control of their emotions, his grandmother pulled back and looked at him with a mixture of pride and sorrow. Her grandson, the heir to the Houston family, was born with a golden spoon. If everything had gone perfectly, he wouldn't lack anything in this world!

But alas! Her grandson was too thin, almost like he was struggling to even buy proper food. How cruel life was!

With this thought, she reached into her pocket and handed him a bank card.

Matthew looked at it, puzzled. 

"What is this?" 

She smiled through her tears. 

"Every year, for the last twenty years after your disappearance, the family has deposited fifty million dollars into this account. With the interest, it now amounts to a total of 1.653 billion dollars."