The Secret Heir Next Door

1. Serena

1

SERENA

“ E xcuse you,” somebody grumbles as I skirt past them.

I am in my own little world, balancing my laptop, water bottle, purse, breakfast, and a fresh coffee from the local café. Today’s special is “Salted Caramel Dreams,” and I can’t wait to taste it. I mentally prepare for the day, going through the checklist in my head of everything I need to accomplish today.

As I get close to my store, I shift everything in my arms, and my phone rings. Juggling my load, I glance down at the screen. It’s my best friend, Lila.

Damn it, Lila, couldn’t you have called five minutes later?

I glance up at my storefront and blow out a breath just as someone slams right into me—hard.

My coffee goes flying, splashing onto the wall of muscle before me and all down the front of me. My oatmeal and banana tumble out of my hand, splatting unceremoniously against the chest of the man who about ran me over. My laptop and everything else in my arms crash to the sidewalk.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I exclaim, looking up into the furious blue eyes of the man I’ve just collided with.

Why am I apologizing when he clearly bumped into me?

He’s gorgeous, with sharp features and dark hair that looks like it was styled meticulously this morning. Unfortunately, his eyes are blazing with anger.

“Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?” he growls, his voice low and menacing. He reaches for my wrists, stopping me from futilely trying to clean the mess off his expensive-looking jacket.

“What the hell are you doing? Stop. Just stop.”

The touch of his hands sends an electric jolt through me, startling me. I freeze, staring up at him wide-eyed. “I’m really, really sorry,” I stammer. “I was just trying to…”

“Trying to what? Take a selfie? Post something stupid on social media? Maybe if you’d been paying attention, this wouldn’t have happened.”

My jaw drops. “How dare you! I looked down for one second!” I snap back, yanking my wrists from his grip. “And you weren’t there before! You ran into me!”

He scoffs, looking down at the oatmeal smeared across his chest and suit jacket.

I wish I hadn’t eaten any of it. I would have smeared even more all over his face now.

What a jerk.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “This is an Armani suit. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

I glance around at the mess on the sidewalk: my broken laptop, my spilled coffee, my ruined breakfast.

“I’m pretty sure you cost me my laptop, in case you haven’t noticed,” I snap.

He looks down at my scattered belongings and then back at me with a sneer.

“Maybe if you weren’t so clumsy…”

“Clumsy?! You ran into me! And for your information, I was about to answer my phone, not take a selfie.”

Why did I feel the need to explain that to him?

He rolls his eyes. “Typical. Always on your phone, not paying attention to where you’re going, I’m sure.”

“Look, I’ve apologized. It was an accident that we both could have avoided. I’m not sure how you’re the victim here. What more do you want?”

He glares at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to keep berating me. But then he releases a sharp breath, taking a step back.

“Just… stay out of my way,” he says coldly, turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me standing there, staring after him in disbelief.

I watch him climb into the back of a luxurious black sedan. My hands are shaking with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“Unbelievable,” I mutter, bending down to start picking up the pieces of my laptop. “Just what I needed today.”

That computer had a good run. I’m probably due for a new one anyway. Because clearly, I can afford that…Ok, enough with the sarcasm Serena, it’s not good juju.

I gather everything and unlock the front door of my store, trying to shake off the encounter. There’s a lot to do, and I can’t let one jerk ruin my entire day. I set my things down on the desk and take a deep breath. I replay the moment in my mind, his angry blue eyes and harsh words lingering more than I’d like.

Who the hell was that man, and how dare he have the audacity to be shitty with me?

My phone rings again, and Lila’s face flashes across the screen.

“Do you ever answer your phone?” she asks before I can even say hello.

“I was busy when you called.”

“I’ve called four times this morning.”

“Why? You’re never up at this time.”

“Facts. But, I had to tell you that I saw Davis out last night.”

“He’s my ex, Lila. Unless you ran him over with your car, I don’t really care where you saw him.”

“Serena,” she groans in a long, drawn-out whine.

“Seriously, I don’t care. He’s my ex for a reason.”

“Fine. Fine. Fine. Can I at least tell you about my night?”

“Tell me about your night as long as you don’t drop anything about my ex in the story.”

She giggles and blows out a breath. “You know me too well.”

“We’ve only been friends for our entire lives. I know all your tricks.”

“Well, I met an amazing guy last night. He’s like…perfect.”

“They’re always perfect.” I sighed.

“Don’t be negative. Just because you don’t believe in love anymore doesn’t mean that I can’t.”

I frown and rub my forehead. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“He’s really sweet. He asked for my number. We left the bar and sat in the parking lot and talked for hours. Then…he’s been texting me all day.”

“That’s amazing, Lila. I’m happy for you.”

“He’s a doctor, too.”

“Damn, girl,” I giggle.

“I went big this time,” she laughs. “I bumped into him in the bar, and he spilled beer all down the front of me. We started talking when he bought me a drink because he felt so bad.”

“Speaking of that, you’ll never guess the run-in I just had.”

“What happened?”

“When you called earlier, my hands were full, but I looked down and got blindsided by this jerk. He bulldozed me practically, and my coffee and breakfast went all over him. All he kept talking about was how expensive his suit was.”

“Sounds like a lovely man.”

“The loveliest,” I reply drily. “I’ve never seen him before and hope to never see him again. Seriously, I’m pretty certain my MacBook is trashed.”

“It’s been trashed,” she teases. “It’s time for a new one.”

“I can’t afford a new one.”

“It’s a tax write-off with the store, silly.”

“You have to have the extra cash for that to happen, and I don’t have it. I’m to the max with everything.”

“I thought online sales were good.”

“They are, but I’m climbing out of debt, remember?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “It’ll get better. Maybe we can work on some marketing stuff tomorrow.”

“I can’t pay you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. You’re my best friend. Your success is my success.”

“Thanks, Lila. Listen, I have to open the store. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Go be great,” she says in a singsong voice before hanging up.

I wish I had her optimism.

I’m standing on a step stool, carefully placing jars of assorted candies on the top shelf, when I hear the familiar bell jingle above the door. I glance over my shoulder and see Dan, my mailman, walking in with his usual stack of mail.

“Morning, Serena!” he calls out cheerfully, balancing the stack of letters and small packages in one hand.

“Morning, Dan,” I smile, stepping down from the stool. “What’s in the mailbag today? Anything good?”

Dan chuckles as he hands me the stack. “Bills, bills, and more bills, I’m afraid. But hey, maybe there’s a surprise in there somewhere.”

I take the pile from him and start flipping through it. Bills, indeed. I let out a small sigh.

“Thanks, Dan. You always know how to brighten my day.”

He grins. “Just doing my job. You know, I heard someone raving about your fudge this morning.”

“Is that so? I tried out a new recipe. It seems to be getting great reviews.”

“She was telling everyone about it. She also said how nice you were.”

“That’s definitely what I needed to hear today. Thanks!”

“You take care now, Serena. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Dan! Be safe!” I wave as he exits the shop, the bell jingling again.

I set the stack of mail on the counter and continue stocking the shelves, my mind half on the task and half on the stack of envelopes waiting for me. Once finished with stocking and customers, I hop off the stool to sort through the mail properly.

As I go through the usual suspects—electricity bill, water bill, various advertisements—one envelope stands out. It’s from a law firm, addressed to me in a formal, almost intimidating font. My heart skips a beat.

What could this be about?

I tear open the envelope and unfold the letter inside. As I read, my stomach sinks. The letter is from the new owner of the building, informing me of my failure to comply with the amendments of my lease.

- Change the storefront’s appearance to match the “upscale” aesthetic of the block.

- Update the signage to something “more tasteful and modern.”

- Repaint the exterior in a color scheme that aligns with the other businesses.

The letter ends by stating that I have thirty days to leave the premises.

Thirty days? To leave?!

I never received anything about amendments.

“This has to be a joke,” I mutter, anger bubbling up inside me.

I flip the letter over, searching for some indication that it’s a prank, but it’s all too real. My shop, my livelihood, labeled an eyesore?

How can they send this via regular mail anyway? I was never served any papers, and I never even received a clue about this.

I grab my phone and dial my sister’s number. Emily is a lawyer, and she’ll know what to do. The phone rings, and rings, and rings. Finally, her voicemail picks up.

“Hi, you’ve reached Emily. I’m in court or with a client right now, but leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Emily, it’s Serena,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just got a letter from the new owner of the building. It’s an eviction letter stating that I didn’t make the changes they requested, and I have thirty days to leave. I thought I was grandfathered in with the old terms! But I never saw anything about these rules until just now. Please call me back as soon as you can. I’m freaking out here.”

I hang up and take a deep breath, trying to calm the panic in my chest. This can’t be happening. The former owner had assured me that nothing would be changed with the lease when he sold the building.

How can this be legal?

I pace the store, my mind racing. The candy shop is my dream, my baby. I’ve poured my heart and soul into this place. The thought of losing it is unbearable. I look around at the brightly colored walls, the cheerful candy displays, and the decorative sign I designed myself. It’s all part of the charm and character of Sweet Treats. And now, some new owner wants to strip all that away.

I try calling Emily again, but it goes straight to voicemail. She must still be in court. I leave another message, my voice more frantic this time.

“Emily, it’s me again. Please, please call me back when you get this. I don’t know what to do.”

Feeling helpless, I sink onto a stool behind the counter and stare at the letter. There has to be something I can do. Maybe I can talk to the new owner, explain the situation, and come to an agreement. I can’t let Sweet Treats go without a fight.

I begin drafting an email to the address listed on the letter, outlining my concerns and requesting a meeting to discuss the demands. My hands tremble as I type, the fear of losing everything weighing heavily on my mind.

I glance around the shop at the happy candy illustrations hanging on the walls and the cozy little corners where kids and parents alike find joy. It all means so much to me and the community. And that style carries through to the outside. This owner can’t make me change my branding. There’s got to be some sort of law against that.

The bell above the door jingles, signaling another customer. I quickly compose myself, pushing the worry about the letter to the back of my mind.

“Welcome to Sweet Treats! How can I help you today?” I say, plastering on my best customer service smile.

The gorgeous man from earlier, the one with the ruined Armani, strides into the shop, looking around with a bored glance. His eyes lock onto mine, and I gasp when he narrows them.

Now he’s wearing another Armani suit with no stains, and he looks like the most delicious man on the planet.

“I should’ve known that you worked at this ridiculous eyesore,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain.

Did I hear him correctly?

What did I ever do to this man? I mean, other than accidentally smearing oatmeal, bananas, and coffee all over him?

“Excuse me? This ‘eyesore’ happens to be a beloved candy shop in the community.”

He steps closer, his presence imposing. “Beloved or not, it’s a blight on this block. The storefront is gaudy, the sign outside is childish, and the colors clash with the other businesses.”

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but my customers love it. This shop has character, unlike the bland, cookie-cutter businesses you probably prefer.”

“Character? Is that what you call it? It’s an embarrassment.”

“An embarrassment? Coming from a man who can’t watch where he’s going,” I shoot back with venom.

“I’m on the board for community development and have reported this monstrosity already. I know the owner of the building, and I’ve already filed a complaint. This place needs to be made more respectable. We’re a business district with Fortune 500 companies, and this looks like the Magic School Bus on parade.”

I cross my arms over my chest, standing my ground. “You can’t just waltz in here and start making demands. The former owner assured me that my lease terms wouldn’t be changed.”

“Things change,” he says coldly. “Adapt or find a new location.”

“I’ll fight this. I have rights, and I won’t let you bully me into changing everything about my shop just because you don’t like it.”

He leans in, his face inches from mine. “Go ahead and fight but know this: I always get what I want.”

“What in the world did I ever do to you?”

He doesn’t respond and instead, turns on his heel and strides out of the shop, the bell clanging in his wake. I stand there, angry and frustrated, watching him go.

What in the literal hell?