Chapter 27 The Heir
THE HEIR
KAIDEN
I don't call ahead. I don't wait for the secretary to announce me. I stride past the reception desk and push through the double doors to my father's office.
Victor Hammond sits behind his desk, a monument of glass and steel at his back. The Silverpoint skyline stretches behind him like a kingdom he believes he owns.
“Alexander.” He doesn't show surprise. “I wondered when you'd come.”
“Stay away from her.”
He leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. “You'll have to be more specific. I interact with many people.”
“Emma. Her ex showing up at her apartment. That was you.”
“Was it?” His expression doesn't change. “I saw the photos from the fire. You and that girl, standing in the smoke like some tragic romance. It was careless, Alexander. Your associations reflect on the stock price.”
“She's not an association. She's a person.”
“She's a distraction.” He says it like he's discussing a market correction. “A nobody from a failing firm. You could have anyone, and you choose someone so far beneath you that I had to wonder if you were doing it specifically to embarrass me.”
I step closer to his desk. “I'm not here to discuss my choices with you.”
“No, you're here to make accusations you can't prove.” He stands slowly, buttoning his jacket.
“I didn't bring that man to Silverpoint.
I simply ensured the path was clear if he chose to come.
I wanted to see how you'd react when your little sanctuary was threatened.” His eyes meet mine.
“You reacted exactly as I expected. You ran to her side like a common bodyguard.”
“I'm protecting what matters.”
“You're exposing weakness.” He walks around the desk, closing the distance between us. “Every enemy you have, every competitor, every person who wants to see ELK fail, they now know exactly how to get to you. One girl. That's all it takes.”
“This conversation is over.”
“Is it?” He stops an arm's length away. “Your mother called me after your lunch. She's worried you'll do something foolish with your shares. Give them back to me, perhaps.” A cold smile. “Is that your plan, Alexander? Surrender your seat at the table so you can play house with your marketing girl?”
“Isn't that what you want? Absolute control? My shares would give you that.”
Something shifts in his face. For a moment, the mask slips, and I see something almost human underneath. Almost.
“I want my legacy,” he says. “The one I've worked for my entire life. A Hammond has to be in charge of this company. My blood. My name.” He holds my gaze. “Believe me, Alexander, if I had other options, I would consider them.”
The words land like a fist to the chest. Not good enough to love, but too necessary to let go. The only heir he has, and he wishes he had another.
“Is that why you keep fucking younger and younger mistresses?” I taunt him. “Are you hoping to finally have another child? A spare heir in case this one keeps disappointing you?”
Victor's jaw tightens. I've hit something. Good.
“Watch yourself,” he says quietly.
“Or what? You'll disown me? We both know you can't.”
The mask slides back into place. When he speaks again, his voice is calm. Controlled. More dangerous than when he was angry.
“No, I can't disown you. You're right about that.” He straightens his cuffs. “Your friends, however. Logan and Ethan. Their little ventures. The racing team. The tech projects.” He looks up at me. “They don't carry the Hammond name. They don't have Hammond protection.”
“Don't.”
“One phone call, Alexander. That's all it would take.
Contracts cancelled. Investors spooked. The media asking uncomfortable questions about their silent partner's family connections.” He returns to his chair, dismisses me with a single gesture.
“I'm not threatening you. I'm reminding you of reality.”
“You don't get to control my life anymore.”
“I never controlled your life. I shaped it. There's a difference.” He waves a hand toward the door. “Go back to your girl. Enjoy your rebellion. When it all falls apart, you know where to find me.”
I stare at him. The rage is cold now, settled deep in my chest. He's not wrong about his power. He could hurt Logan. He could hurt Ethan. He could make Emma's life a nightmare.
I can't beat him. Not yet. Not like this.
“We're done,” I say.
“For now,” he agrees.
I walk out without looking back. The elevator feels like a coffin on the way down. I push through the lobby, out into the afternoon air, hands shaking with everything I didn't say.
The Ducati waits where I left it. The roar drowns out Victor's voice. I pull into traffic, weave between cars, push faster than I should.
I need to get to the lab. I need to think. I need to be anywhere but inside my own skull.
The light ahead turns yellow. I ease off the throttle and reach for the brake.
Nothing happens.
I squeeze harder. The lever goes soft, all the way to the handlebars. No resistance. No response.
The intersection rushes toward me. A delivery truck rolls through the cross street. I have seconds.
I downshift hard, trying to use the engine to slow the bike. The motor screams in protest. I swerve right, aiming for the gap between the truck and a parked sedan. Too fast. Too tight.
The front wheel clips the sedan's bumper.
The world tilts. Sky. Concrete. The shriek of metal. One shoulder hits the ground first, then helmet cracks against the asphalt. I'm rolling, sliding, the bike spinning away in a shower of sparks.
Everything stops.
I'm on my back, staring at the sky. Gray clouds. Taste of blood in my mouth. Voices somewhere, distant and muffled. Someone shouts.
I try to move. Pain explodes through my left leg, sharp and bright. Ribs scream when I breathe.
A face appears above me. A stranger. His mouth is moving, but the words don't reach me.
I think of Emma. Her face. Her laugh. The way she looked at me this morning when I dropped her off.
I didn't tell her.
The thought dissolves as the gray sky fades to black.