The Secret Heir Return To Wealth And Love

"The accomplices you once ran with are all returning their ill-gotten gains, but none of them bit off as much as you did, Uncle," Jacob mused, his gaze falling to the floor. "The amount you're up for, even after paying back what you owe, you'll be behind bars for a good long while. And trust me, I'll make a point of paying my respects at the family plot and sharing a word or two about your fate."

"Jacob!" Sanderson pounded his chest in despair. But Jacob remained unfazed.

A man's vulnerability is his undoing.

"You have 48 hours to sort out your accounts, and I'll have legal draw up the share transfer agreement," Jacob stated coolly. "Miss that deadline, and even if you came begging with your shares and cash, I wouldn't give you the time of day." He paused, then added, "Oh, and don't bother reaching out to my mom and dad. It's pointless. Dad's brotherly affection for you has turned to pure disgust."

With that, Jacob turned to his assistant and said, "Get the marketing department down to the conference room for a meeting."

"Right away."d2

Jacob had no interest in witnessing Sanderson's meltdown.

Sanderson might not fear the end, but he sure as hell feared losing face in front of the ancestors of the Strand Group. He couldn't even claim the Strand name anymore, yet he was so fixated on the opinions of those long gone. Jacob didn't get it, but he found it useful.

It meant he had Sanderson right where he wanted him.

Sure, Jacob had secured some decent partnerships with his own brand, easing some of the immediate crises at the Strand Group.

However, the company had been severely undermined by corruption and its foundation was unstable. The tasks ahead were immense, making the stakes extremely high.

Whether the Strand Group survived was a fifty-fifty bet in Jacob's book. He had to give it everything he had.

Before long, word came from home - Sanderson had indeed shown up at the old Strand family estate.

He'd actually begged in front of Jacob's grandmother, hoping the matriarch would convince Jacob to let him off the hook.

The old lady had always seen Sanderson as the living embodiment of her shame, so she wouldn't lift a finger to help him.Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

Not only was Sanderson turned away, but he was also thoroughly humiliated by the butler.

Next, Sanderson tried his luck with Graham, who refused to see him, sending out a message instead, [I've done my brotherly duty, but you betrayed me!]

Upon hearing this news, Sanderson was sent into a tailspin right there on the doorstep of the Strand family home. Afterwards, he retreated to his own home, where he spent the night immersed in silent thought.

That night, he remembered his first visit to the Strand estate as a child, hiding behind his grandmother, timidly observing the room full of lavishly dressed, glittering people.

Their gazes cut through him like knives.

He overheard someone say, "So dark and puny, doesn't look like a Strand at all."

Another sneered, "A bastard, revolting, with tainted blood!"

It was also the day he first met Graham, and his grandmother introduced him as his big brother.

Graham was impeccably dressed, his whole presence clean, descending the stairs with an air of grace and beauty, straight out of the television dramas Sanderson watched. The crowd's demeanor shifted instantly.

They hustled him and his grandmother out of the opulent parlor.

The wind in B City that day felt like it hid blades.

From outside, Sanderson locked eyes with Graham through the window, a moment that marked the beginning of his brewing resentment.