The city is Mine

Three

Benjamin kept hearing Langley’s words in his head: “Old Master Harper said you had something special.” Evelyn’s harsh phone call about the will, and the mention of her father’s “accident”, kept eating at him. He needed answers, and Langley was the only person who might have them.

That morning, while sorting his laundry, Benjamin’s fingers brushed against something stiff in his pocket. He pulled it out, a crumpled business card he didn’t remember pocketing: “Charles Langley, Harper Industries, Retired,” slipped there during the gala.

Quietly, he dressed, careful to avoid the creaky floorboard. Tucking the pendant into his jacket, its faint warmth pulsed against his chest, urging him forward. Before Evelyn’s morning orders could reach him, he slipped out the side door, heading for the city’s edge where Langley’s card listed a small office.

The mansion was still. He passed Old Master Harper’s portrait in the grand hall, the caption bold: “Founder, Harper Empire”. Clara’s warning about “poison in these walls” stirred uneasily in his mind.

He shook it off and slipped out through the servant’s exit, leaving the box behind but the dragon carving vivid in his thoughts.

At a rundown café by the docks, Langley nursed a coffee, his pinstripe suit at odds with chipped mugs and peeling paint. “Persistent, aren’t you?” Langley said, squinting. “Didn’t expect to see you after Evelyn’s leash snapped last night.” Benjamin sat, voice low. “You said Old Master Harper saw something in me. What?”

Langley studied him. “Victor Carter—your grandfather—was the richest man this city ever had. Made Harper look poor. They were rivals, bitter ones. Harper built his empire, but Carter’s wealth was untouchable.” He took a slow sip, eyes distant. “Victor disappeared years ago. Left something behind for his heir—you. Harper knew and trusted you’d rise to it. That’s why he tied you to Amelia.”

Benjamin’s breath caught. Victor Carter—his grandfather? A name his mother whispered before she died. Wealth had never been part of his world. “What did he leave?” The pendant warmed in his pocket.

Langley shrugged. “Hidden. Victor had enemies, and Harper had plenty too. Look into old Carter records, but be careful. Not everyone wants you digging.” He slid a napkin with an address—City Archives—across the table, then glanced nervously at the door before leaving.

Back at the mansion, Evelyn’s voice hit Benjamin like a slap. “Where were you? Deliver contracts to the board meeting today. Don’t dawdle.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t think your little gala act changes anything.”

Amelia paused nearby. “Out early, huh?” Her tone sharp but curious, her gaze lingering on his jacket. Benjamin shrugged, hiding the pendant’s warmth. “Clearing my head.” She frowned and walked away, heels clicking sharply.

The Harper Industries boardroom was a glass cage atop a skyscraper. Benjamin, in his faded jacket, handed out contracts, their contempt cutting deeper than Evelyn’s words. Marcus lounged at the table’s end, smirking. “The servant son-in-law delivering papers? What’s next—shining my shoes?” Laughter rippled. A young executive “accidentally” knocked coffee onto Benjamin’s shirt. The stain spread dark and warm. The room jeered.

Benjamin dabbed at it, the pendant pulsing hot against his chest. He could hear everything—the whispers, Marcus’s chuckle, the faint creak of the door. He caught Evelyn outside, talking low to someone—Richard, the lawyer. “Shred the original will, Richard. Harper’s choice was a mistake. That boy gets nothing.” Benjamin’s heart raced. The will mentioned him? Why?

The coffee stain on his shirt looked fainter, almost like it was disappearing, while the pendant burned against his chest. Ben blinked, wondering if he was imagining things, and slipped out of the room, Marcus’s laugh still ringing in his ears. Evelyn’s words stuck with him—“a mistake.” Had she hidden what Old Man Harper wanted? And what the hell did Victor Carter’s money have to do with any of it?

In the kitchen, washing dishes, Benjamin’s mind spun on Langley’s words—Victor Carter, richer than Harper, his grandfather. Had Old Master Harper arranged the marriage to protect or awaken something?

Clara shuffled in, her eyes darting. “Asking questions, lad? Good. Old Master Harper said you’d find your way, but Harpers don’t like loose ends.” She leaned closer. “Check the old man’s room no one enters there. He kept records—Carter ones too.” Evelyn’s heels clicked closer. Clara slipped away.

That night, Benjamin waited. Evelyn was out at a charity dinner, Marcus gone, Amelia in her room. He crept to Old Master Harper’s study—a locked sanctuary no one entered, and under a hall table, he spotted a glint—a small key, half-hidden in dust. It fit the lock, clicking softly. Inside was a faded ledger marked “Carter-Harper Dealings”. Pages showed business clashes, Victor Carter’s name dominating, his wealth dwarfing Harper’s. A note in Old Master Harper’s handwriting read: “Benjamin, the key to both legacies.”

A floorboard creaked. Amelia stood in the doorway, robe loose, eyes blazing with fury. “What are you doing in Grandfather’s room? No one’s been here in a decade—get out!” Benjamin closed the ledger, heart pounding, “Looking for answers.”

Her gaze flicked to the book, then him, anger mixed with curiosity. “Answers about what? Sneaking around like you’re hiding something.” He met her eyes. “Maybe I am. But it’s not what you think.” Amelia crossed her arms, voice disdain“One month, Benjamin. Don’t make me regret giving it to you.” She stormed off.

Back in his room, Benjamin opened the ledger, he had sneaked out of Old Master Harper’s room. The feud was clear, Victor Carter edging Harper out, amassing fortune before vanishing.

A single line mentioned a “Carter trust” for an heir, locked away. The pendant pulsed. A faint sound, Evelyn’s car pulling in. He hid the ledger under his mattress, box beside it.