The Shadows of Truth
1394 Words
James POV
I did not sleep that night. I just couldn't, not even for a minute. The shelter around me was calm as usual: coughing, snoring, muttering, and metal beds creaking whenever someone turned, but for once, none of that bothered me.
My mind was somewhere else.
“Parents.”
The word kept replaying in my head over and over again. I sat on the edge of the thin mattress staring at the black card Royce had given me. It was plain and elegant, but it seemed expensive. Even the texture felt rich. I rubbed my thumb across the silver edges again.
Nothing about Royce and Davina made sense anymore.
At first, I believed they were poor people who sacrificed everything for me.
But then… Bunkie got scared of Royce. The SUV appeared from nowhere, and the Advern crest showed up.
And Royce Kingsley…
Detroit’s billionaire king. I leaned back against the wall slowly.
“No,” I muttered to myself. “That’s impossible.”
There was no way the most powerful businessman in the city was my father. No chance. A guy like Royce Kingsley probably shook hands with senators and flew around in private jets. Don't ride broken bicycles through dirty alleys.
Still… I could not ignore the feeling in my chest.
The way Davina hugged me and the way Royce looked at me. The scar on my foot also, I didn't usually remember that I had that on me.
I covered my face tiredly. My whole life had changed in one night.
And I had absolutely no idea what to do next. The shelter lights flicked on at six in the morning. People immediately started moving around. Some cursed themselves while
Some rushed to the bathrooms.
Some grabbed their bags before others stole them.
Normal shelter life. I stood slowly and grabbed my backpack: two shirts, one hoodie, and one cracked phone. That was still my reality. Parents or not, I still needed money.
I still needed work. And unfortunately…being poor doesn’t pause just because your life becomes complicated.
Outside, Detroit looked gray and exhausted. Cold wind swept across the streets while traffic crawled through the morning fog. I shoved my hands into my pockets and headed downtown.
There were construction sites and warehouses, as well as restaurants.
Anywhere I found them seeking hires. I would go there to give it a try. The first place rejected me immediately.
“We’re full.”
The second place did not even let me finish speaking before shutting the door. The third place asked for experience that I did not have.
By noon, my stomach was hurting badly. I had not eaten since yesterday afternoon. I stopped outside a coffee shop and stared through the glass silently. The warm lights. Coffee smell.
People laughing inside and having casual conversations. A normal life. For a second, I imagined what it would feel like to belong somewhere.
Then the feeling disappeared. I kept walking.
Half an hour later, I spotted a hiring sign outside a supermarket.
MARTIN’S FRESH MARKET.
I almost laughed at the name.
Martin.
Bad memories immediately crawled into my chest. Still…work was work.
I walked inside.
The manager looked irritated before I even spoke.
Short man. Balding head. Cheap tie.
“What?”
“I’m here for the hiring sign.”
He looked me up and down slowly. Scanning me with his eyes.
My worn shoes. My old hoodie. The backpack.
Judgment instantly filled his face.
“We need stock workers,” he muttered. “Night shift.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Have you ever worked retail?”
“Yes.” That was a lie.
He narrowed his eyes. “You steal?”
“What?”
“Simple question.”
Anger flashed through me immediately. But I swallowed it. Because poor people do not have the luxury of pride.
“No,” I answered quietly.
He tossed a paper toward me carelessly.
“Fill it out.”
I sat at a nearby table and started writing.
Name: James Miller.
Emergency contact.
My pen stopped moving.
I stared at the line for several seconds.
Then slowly wrote "Royce Kingsley."
Even writing the name felt unreal. When I finished, the manager glanced over the form quickly. His eyes stopped at the contact name.
Then slowly lifted itself toward me.
“You know Royce Kingsley?”
My heartbeat stumbled.
“I…” I hesitated. “Not really.”
His expression immediately changed into annoyance again.
“Don’t joke around with names like that.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Sure.”
He grabbed the paper.
“You start tonight. Nine p.m. Don’t be late.”
Relief hit me instantly. Finally, I found a job, but it was a terrible pay. But terrible pay was still money. I stepped back outside feeling slightly lighter for the first time all day.
That was when I noticed the black SUV again. Parked across the street, the same tinted windows. Same sleek body.
It was watching.
My chest tightened immediately.
The vehicle pulled away the second our eyes met.
“What the hell…”
This was getting creepy. I started walking faster.
Three blocks later, my stomach growled violently again. I checked my pocket. I had six dollars left. It was barely enough for cheap food. I entered a small deli and bought the cheapest sandwich available. The old cashier gave me a strange look while handing me my change.
“You okay, kid?”
I nodded automatically. “Yeah.” Another lie.
I sat outside on a bench eating slowly.
Halfway through the sandwich, my cracked phone buzzed suddenly.
Unknown number.
I frowned before answering carefully.
“Hello?”
“Did you eat?”
I nearly dropped the phone.
Davina.
Her voice instantly softened something inside me again.
“How did you get my number?”
“Mothers find ways,” she replied gently.
For some reason, that made me smile slightly. My first in months.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“That wasn’t my question.”
I looked down at the sandwich in my hands.
“…I’m eating now.”
She sounded relieved.
“Good.”
Silence followed for a few seconds.
Then…
“Your father wants to see you.”
My heartbeat quickened immediately.
“Why?”
“He misses you already.”
That answer hit harder than expected. Nobody had ever missed me before. Not truly.
“We can come pick you up,” she added softly.
My eyes immediately lifted toward the street again.
Toward the black SUV parked further ahead.
So they really were following me.
“I can find my own way.”
“We know,” she said gently. “That’s the problem.”
Before I could answer, another voice came onto the line.
Royce.
“James.”
Just hearing his voice made my shoulders tense automatically.
“There’s something important we need to discuss,” he said calmly.
“What kind of discussion?”
“A family one.”
I rubbed my forehead tiredly. Everything about the situation felt insane.
Still…curiosity was destroying me.
“Where?”
“I’ll text you the address.”
The call ended.
Seconds later, my phone buzzed with a location.
I stared at it.
Downtown Detroit. Right in the financial district. My stomach twisted instantly.
Advern Group Headquarters.
No! No way. I rose from the bench slowly. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe there was another building nearby.
Maybe…
My thoughts died the second I arrived downtown an hour later. Because towering above the street was the tallest building in the city.
ADVERN GROUP.
My breathing stopped.
Employees in suits walked through revolving doors while expensive cars lined the entrance.
And standing near the building entrance…was Royce.
Except he looked nothing like the man from the alley.
No broken bicycle, worn coat, or tired worker.
He stood in a perfectly tailored black suit while security guards surrounded him respectfully.
Power radiated from him naturally. People moved aside when he walked.
One employee accidentally bumped into him and nearly looked ready to faint. I stood still across the street. My entire body went cold.
Because the man who is pretending to be poor…was exactly who he claimed to be.
Royce Kingsley.
The richest man in Detroit.
And he was looking directly at me like he had been waiting for his son to arrive
- Writer
