The Billionaire's Forgotten Heir

TROUBLE LOOMING

CARTER'S OLD MANSION (Two Hours Earlier)

"Mr. Carter..."

The words died in Skyler's throat the moment she saw the man seated on the bed.

It wasn't Damon like she expected. It was the old man from the cemetery.

"Mr..."

The old man cut her off with a wave of his hand, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Who are you, child? Did you lose your way?" he asked.

"It's... you."

Skyler couldn't tell what she was feeling now. It was something mixed with joy and relief.

"Who?"

Edward's frown deepened.

"You... don't remember me?" Skyler asked, stunned, but Edward shook his head, suddenly letting out a small laugh.

"I remember a lot of people. My grandson, the butler, and many others. Tell me, dear, who are you looking for? I'll direct you right away." He paused, then gave her a side-eye.

"Are you here for my grandson?" He rubbed his beard, thinking deep, then spoke in a rather solemn tone.

"The brat already has a girlfriend."

Grandson?

Was that Damon Carter?

Looking at Edward, Skyler realized Damon did share a resemblance with him. But unlike Edward's free and easygoing personality, Damon was a lot more reserved, shrewd, and aloof.

She shook the thoughts off and focused on the old man in front of her. He didn't seem to be lying or hiding anything, which only made it more worse.

That day at the cemetery, he had recognized her without hesitation. He had even spoken to her as though they had met before.

So why didn't he remember her now?

Could he really have forgotten her?

"Mr. Edward, it's me, Skyler Thompson." She tried again, her eyes glinting with hope, but the man shook his head, then suddenly coughed, clutching his chest.

"Are you... here for me...?"

Cough. Cough.

He coughed loudly, and Skyler was already taking a few steps toward him when he stretched out his hand and waved it in the air, signaling that he was alright.

He looked back at her, squinting, his face slightly red.

"Have we met before, child?"

"Y—"

Before Skyler could say anything else, the door flew open, and the butler rushed in, his breath ragged like he'd just run a marathon.

"Ms. Thompson..." he said, trying to catch his breath.

"Please leave. Don't disturb Mr. Edward."

He gestured toward the door, leaving no room for argument, and Skyler couldn't help but look at Edward one more time. He waved at her, them got relaxed in the bed.

She left the room, while the butler offered a few words of apology before following behind her.

The moment the door clicked shut, he turned to Skyler.

"This room is off-limits, Ms. Skyler. I suppose you understand."

Skyler could only nod.

"I understand. I was only trying to check on Mr. Carter. I didn't know it belonged to his grandfather."

The butler sighed.

"It's okay. You don't have to worry too much."

He offered a small smile, and they headed downstairs together.

"Is Mr. Edward sick?" Skyler couldn't help but ask on the way.

The butler was quiet for a brief moment before saying with a sigh, "Mr. Edward is a bit unwell. But he'll be fine in a few days. Ms. Thompson, please get some rest. Lunch will be served soon."

"It's fine. You don't have to—"

"Nonsense. You're a guest here. Get some rest. I'll call you once lunch is ready."

With that, the butler hurried toward the kitchen.

Skyler watched him leave; she didn't even get to know his name.

She looked back the way they had come, her lips pressed tightly together as she pondered about Edward.

That was definitely the same man she'd met at the cemetery.

He had recognized her then.

He had known her name.

Yet now, he couldn't even remember meeting her.

Skyler frowned.

Was she hallucinating that day, or had something happened to Edward since then?

She couldn't tell.

(Present)

The car door clicked shut as Damon settled inside. He leaned back against the rear seat, his eyes closed.

"Heading home, Mr. Carter?" Ellis asked, his voice reaching Damon just as he started the engine; that was when Damon’s phone rang.

He reached out to grab it without opening his eyes, only lifting his lids once the device was pressed to his ear.

No sooner had he answered than Emily’s panicked voice came through.

"Damon, where are you?"

Damon’s brows furrowed deeper.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

A brief silence followed before Emily spoke again; her voice was low and hesitant—had Damon not known her so well, he might have believed she was being sincere.

"The people from the second branch are here. They want to speak with you." She paused, carefully weighing her words.

"It’s quite urgent, Damon. They won't listen to a word I say. Why don't you come and talk to them? It would help smooth things over."

"I'm on my way."

Damon’s tone was devoid of warmth.

"All right, all right—I'll be waiting for you."

The call ended, and silence settled back over the car. Sure enough, shortly after hanging up, he received a message in the family group chat.

The words seemed polite on the surface, but Damon could sense the hatred lurking beneath.

He leaned back in his seat, massaging his temple.

"The Carter estate."

*

Ellis pulled the car up to the curb and watched Damon step out.

"Would you like me to assign a few men to your security, sir?" ...he asked, but Damon gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze fixed on the main entrance as he buttoned his jacket.

He adjusted his leather jacket and stepped into the house.

"Mr. Carter."

The butler shot him a nervous glance; his lips parted as if to speak, but he immediately thought better of it and stepped quietly aside to let him pass.

"Damon, you're here!"

Emily was the first to speak, her eyes glistening with tears she was barely holding back. She looked distressed, as if she genuinely cared about him.

Damon's gaze swept past her, settling on the two figures seated in the room. One was a man whose eyes flickered with cold hatred and the other was a woman—calm, polished, and elegant—with her hands resting on her lap and eyes that read: 'I thought you had it under control!'

Damon’s jaw tightened.

He didn't know what trick Emily had up her sleeve this time, but he sensed that nothing good awaited him.

The man, Caspian, shifted in his leather armchair and cleared his throat.

"It’s a good thing you’re here, nephew. It is high time, I believe, to settle this matter once and for all."

Damon settled easily into the seat opposite him, his expression impassive.

"Settle what, exactly?"