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The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 11
The sterile air of the hospital felt heavy, almost suffocating. Nurse Syma stood quietly in the room, her hands steady as she adjusted the syringe in her gloved fingers. The heavily bandaged and ironically fragile figure lying unconscious, had no idea of the darkness that loomed over him. She felt an obvious disconnect with the figure and sighed at the thought of not having a personal attachment to him. To her, he was just another target, another cog in the machine of a larger, ruthless scheme that had drawn her in. Syma knew that she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. She carefully inserted the syringe into his IV line, pushing the plunger slowly. The content of the syringe was designed to eliminate him within 5 minutes. Once she had emptied the syringe, she dipped it into her scrub’s pocket which hid the slight tremble of her hand at that moment. She knew what came next. The job would be done, and she would move on. ‘No emotional attachment, no second thoughts’, she thought as
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 12
It was not until 5 days later before he was sucked back into full consciousness. As he became more conscious, Jason’s eyes fluttered open, but the sight before him was not what he was expecting to see. The room smelt like antiseptic, lavender and was unnervingly quiet except for the beeping sounds coming from behind his head. His body felt heavy, like it belonged to someone else. He felt the throb of pain in every inch of his body ached as the air around him felt too thick for comfort. He tried to lift his arm, but it refused to budge. His limbs felt as though they were made of stone. Jason felt the sudden rush of panic from somewhere deep inside him, but it was muffled and too distant to appear on his face or prompt any reflex action. He tried again, pushing against the invisible weight that held him down, willing his right hand to move. Slowly, agonizingly as the ache in his joint rose in intensity, it twitched, and then, crawled toward his face. His fingertips brushed the mask th
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 13
Dr. Mark Atkins sat behind his table in his office as the steady hum of the fluorescent lights above was doing little to break the eerie silence surrounding him. His gaze was fixed on the screen in front of him, but his mind was far from the rows of data staring in his face. The cursor on the page blinked rapidly as his fingers hovered above the keyboard, but there was no pressing need to type. His mind was lost, more like entangled in the grief of Syma’s passing, which has made it harder for him to focus. For a fleeting moment, the world around him felt distant and empty, as if he were disconnected from everything that used to matter to him. The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat was his only companion in that stillness. The memories of Syma, her infectious laughter, the way her dark hair like her father's framed her face, the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled, everything ccame rushing back that he felt tears stinging his eyes. It had only been 5 days since he heard the nerve wrecking
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 14
2 days before Jason's assumed final moments at the hospital, Daisy heard something she shouldn't have and the events that followed till Jason's miraculous recovery were a blur in her memory as she had been constantly injected with a high dosage of valium 5. ...Suddenly, Daisy felt something restricting her body in an awkward manner as she began to regain consciousness after days of her inertia. Her head pounded with each breath she took as if a drumbeat was been rattled in its highest volume through her skull. She could feel the remnants of something cold, something suffocating clinging desperately to her consciousness. Her hands felt somewhat numb and when she tried to move as the sharp and constricting feeling of rope around her wrists stung her skin. She tugged as she took in her surroundings, but the ropes held firm. Her body, too, felt as if it were suffocating in the darkness which she was. The sudden urge to scream made her realise that something had been shoved and taped in
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 15
It had been ten months since the accident, yet Jason felt like he had only just begun to breathe again. His body, which had been broken and bruised beyond recognition, had recovered at an alarming rate that surprised his doctor. Dr. Mark Atkins had been certain it would take years for him to regain any semblance of his old strength, but Jason had defied expectations. His bones had mended quicker than anticipated, and his muscles had followed suit. However, his mind remained locked away, trapped in a burning fog and no matter how hard he tried, the memories eluded him.There were too many unanswered questions that gnawed at him in his quiet moments. What had he looked like before the accident? Was he the same person now that he had become? What had his life been like? And, most pressing of all, how had the accident happened? Every time he asked, his father, Mr. ArkWrath, his Aunt May, and even Dr. Atkins, they would change the subject or keep their responses vague.The more time passed
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 16
Jason woke up to the familiar soft sunlight creeping through the thick curtains of his room. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know where he was. The plushness of the bed, the faint scent of lavender in the air, and the quiet hum of the mansion’s air conditioning system all pointed to one undeniable fact: he was still in his father’s mansion on Danslen’s Island. It felt strange to be so used to the place, yet so unfamiliar with it at the same time.He stretched slowly, feeling the stiffness in his limbs—a faint reminder of just how far he'd come since the accident. The ache had faded long ago, but every so often, a small twinge would flare up, like the echo of the pain that once consumed him.Jason glanced at the bedside clock. *10:15 AM.*"Dammit," he muttered to himself, quickly sitting up. He had to wash up and get ready to meet his father before his 11:00 AM meeting. His father’s meetings were always a rigid schedule, a daily routine that began at that time and lasted until
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 17
Jason stared blankly at the three diaries laid out before him. The leather covers were worn, edges frayed, and the paper within yellowed with age. Each one was roughly the size of his hand, but the weight they carried was far heavier. He wondered, almost in disbelief, how much of his own life he had experienced to have filled three separate books with such deep, personal thoughts. It felt... surreal. He could hardly imagine himself diligently documenting every passing thought. He was the kind of person who couldn’t even trust his own memories anymore. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, bitter and tinged with irony as his memories were fleeting, like wisps of smoke that had dissolved the moment the accident occurred. Every time he tried to reach for one of those fleeting memories, it felt like it slipped through his fingers. Perhaps that was his punishment for some unknown mistake in the past. Jason reached for the nearest diary. His fingers brushed over the cover, a dark, cracked le
The Billionaire's Masked Heir CHAPTER 18
Jason sat in the stillness of his room, the faint light from the desk lamp casting long shadows against the walls. The quiet felt suffocating, his mind was a jumbled mess, disjointed fragments of a life he couldn’t remember. The accident had taken so much from him, not just the memory of faces and names, but the very essence of who he was. He had decided earlier to leave the diaries untouched. They were too much to handle, too personal, too far removed from the man he was now becoming. The first one had been dismissed in a heartbeat, too juvenile, too meaninglessness and reckless for an adult like him. But there was something about the second diary. Something about the way it had sat on his desk, its leather cover worn but sturdy, as though it was waiting for him. It was almost as if it had been calling to him all along.He picked it up.The weight of it in his hands was different from the first. With a resigned breath, Jason opened it to the first page. As his eyes fell on the words
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CHAPTER 43
Mauve’s eyes narrowed as he studied Cain, who seemed visibly disturbed, his words hesitant and strained. Mauve had seen his son in various states of frustration, but never like this, there was something more to Cain's discomfort, something that was eating at him. The older man’s gaze hardened, and his voice dropped to a low, commanding tone.“Cain,” Mauve said, his voice steady but laced with impatience. “Why do you look so distressed? Speak now.”Cain’s eyes flickered for a moment, as though struggling with something lodged deep within his chest. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. “It’s not you, Father. It’s... something bigger. There are problems here that you’ve not even begun to grasp.”Mauve’s brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" he pressed, leaning forward, his piercing eyes fixed on Cain as if trying to dissect every emotion his son was trying to hide.Cain hesitated again, clearly weighing t
CHAPTER 42
Cain, Abel, and Adam walked into Mauve’s office, their steps synchronized in the polished luxury of their suits. The tense air from the meeting still lingered in their minds, and the click of their shoes on the marble floor seemed louder than usual. As the door closed behind them, Cain immediately cut to the chase, his frustration palpable. "What was that in the meeting?" Cain demanded, his voice sharp. "What was all that nonsense? It was upsetting, embarrassing even. I’m sure everyone could tell. The way the room was reading us… it was clear." He stood there, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Mauve, unwilling to let the awkwardness of the earlier exchange go.Mauve, seated at his desk, let out a short laugh, his voice smooth, but tinged with something colder beneath the surface. "Don’t worry yourself too much about how things played out in the room, Cain," Mauve replied, leaning back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. "What you should worry about are the things that
CHAPTER 41
Jason walked through the corridors of the building, his thoughts drifting toward the office that had once belonged to his father. The space that had been a symbol of power for decades now felt like a hollow echo of the past. His father’s legacy loomed large in the room, and Jason could already feel the pressure of expectations weighing on his shoulders. His own office was still under construction, a temporary arrangement that seemed to perfectly mirror his own temporary state of mind. The presidency was his, but it was still something he had yet to fully claim.As he continued down the hallway, something nagged at him, adetail he had overlooked earlier in the rush of his new responsibilities. He had yet to choose his personal assistant, someone who would be his right hand, his confidante, the one person he could trust to navigate the constant maelstrom of corporate politics and public perception. And in that moment, Jason knew exactly who he wanted. His father’s secretary had been ef
CHAPTER 40
Jason sat in the president's chair, his posture straight, his expression unreadable as the weight of the moment pressed down upon him. His father, once the man who had sat in this seat with authority and charisma, now stood up and shook Jason’s hand, the passing of an era unfolding in a single gesture. The sight of the handshake reverberated around the silent room, the only thing louder than the action itself was the uncertainty hanging thick in the air. His father’s exit was swift, deliberate, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. Mauve, Winston’s brother, followed soon after, calling out behind him in an attempt to stall his departure."Wait, brother," Mauve’s voice was firm, the kind of tone that left little room for argument, "Don’t head straight to your office just yet. Come to mine. We’ll talk about what comes next over a cup of coffee. Retirement’s on my mind as well. We can make plans together."Winston’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, but he didn’t reply immediatel
CHAPTER 39
Cain ArkWrath sat rigidly at the long, polished conference table, his fingers clenching into fists beneath the smooth surface. His sharp eyes darted between the family members sitting around him, though his mind was far from the polished business conversation taking place. The room felt suffocating, and the air was thick with applause, but Cain’s thoughts were anything but celebratory.Jason ArkWrath, the man who had just been introduced as the new president of the State and business empire of ArkWrath was an enigma to Cain. The moment Jason had walked into the room, Cain’s instincts had flared. There was something disturbingly familiar about the young man. For a fleeting moment, Cain’s mind had thrown up a memory, one that was not so buried in the past and had now resurfaced with sharp clarity. Jason looked almost identical to Fad Lucas, the cleaner who had disappeared off Cain’s radar after their confrontation. The very same man who Cain had tried to kill in a fit of anger and arro
CHAPTER 38
The meeting had reached a critical point, and the tension was hotter than ever. Winston ArkWrath had just announced the unexpected decision to name his son, Jason, as his successor. A murmur of surprise had rippled through the room, and the once-steadfast supporters of Winston seemed unsure how to react. Some exchanged anxious glances, others appeared relieved, but no one dared to voice their true feelings, not in front of Winston. To many, it seemed like a peaceful moment. But for those who truly understood the dynamics at play, it was a carefully orchestrated facade that threatened to crack wide open. Winston raised his hand, signaling for quiet. “We’ll take a 5-minute break,” he declared, his voice commanding yet oddly calm. “During this time, I’d like to address any concerns that might have arisen regarding my decision to name Jason as my successor. I know many of you must have your doubts... perhaps you feel uncertain about this choice. But I assure you, this is the right dec
CHAPTER 37
Mauve’s heart pounded in his chest. His palms were slick with sweat. He could feel the weight of the eyes upon him, even though he was doing his best to remain stoic. He knew, deep down, that this was not his moment. It would never be his moment. Winston turned to the side and gestured to a figure standing at the back of the room. It was a man Mauve had not expected. Jason. But what confused the room was his appearance. The mask he wore, one that had covered his face until now, was an unusual choice for someone in a position of power. As he reached behind his ear and pressed a button, the mask began to shrink, revealing the raw scars that lined his forehead. It was clear that these were not just battle scars; they were marks of someone who had been through something much darker, something that went far beyond the surface.The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the reporters too stunned to ask the questions that burned on their tongues. Mauve’s chest tightened as he watched Ja
CHAPTER 36
It was now Monday, and the glass conference room hummed with the subtle buzz of activity. The room, sleek and modern, exuded power as its polished floors reflecting the sharp, angular edges of the classy furniture. The walls, adorned with massive digital screens, displayed the ArkWrath logo in stark contrast to the otherwise single colour, grey decor. Two reporters, seasoned professionals known for breaking the most confidential news from headquarters, sat in their designated corner, marked Media Section. They were quiet but observant, poised with their pens ready to capture not just the words spoken but the unsaid. The emotions, the shifts in energy, nothing was beyond their scrutiny. They had spent seven years in that room, learning to decode the faintest sigh, the flicker of an eyelash, the nervous shift of a hand. In this world of power drift and secrecy, they were now masters of reading between the lines. Today, however, something felt different, more dangerously exciting. The r
CHAPTER 35
The clock on Mauve’s desk ticked louder than usual, each passing second feeling heavier than the last. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he stared at the letter that still lay in front of him. The crisp parchment, sealed with Winston’s unmistakable crest, seemed to mock him in its simplicity. A year ago, he had made a critical mistake. A failure that still stung, one that he hadn’t fully forgiven himself for.Mauve’s fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood of his desk as he remembered the mission he’d assigned. It had seemed so straightforward then: eliminate the only heir left to Winston’s business empire.But, as with most of Mauve’s plans, things hadn’t gone as expected.The people Mauve had chosen to carry out the task, his trusted agents, handpicked for their loyalty and their experience, had failed him.The operation had fallen apart quickly. The moment Mauve’s agents lost contact, he knew that the plan had failed. He had no choice but to eliminate those
