The Chosen Heir

Chapter 3: I don't trust you

For a moment, the world had felt safe, even forgiving. Then the heavy knock shattered it. Ash opened the door to find Mr. Braxton, the landlord, standing in the dim porch light. His eyes, sharp and cold, locked on Ash like a predator sizing up prey.

“I don’t trust you,” Braxton said, his voice low but hard. “I need the money now.” He was surprised, what was the cause of the sudden change of heart. Ash tried to keep his voice calm. “Sir, I told you, I just got a job. The first salary comes at the end of the month....”

“I said now!” Braxton snapped, stepping forward. His hand shot out, gripping Ash's collar in a sudden, brutal motion. “You’ve told me too many stories. Tonight, I’m done listening.” “Sir, wait!” Tessa cried, rushing to Ash’s side, but Braxton yanked him forward, shoving him toward the edge of the porch.

“You think I’ll stand here while you feed me excuses? You’ll answer to everyone tonight!”

Before Ash could brace himself, Braxton dragged him out into the open courtyard of the compound. His boots scraped the dirt, his shirt twisting under Braxton’s fist. The commotion spread quickly. Lights flicked on in windows. Doors creaked open. Curious faces appeared in the shadows, then stepped into the pale wash of the moonlight.

“Eh, what’s going on there?” someone called. A woman on the second-floor balcony leaned over the railing, squinting. “Is that the man owing rent? The one in room twelve?” “Yes, it’s him!” Braxton shouted, his voice echoing through the compound. “Owing me eighteen months’ rent and sitting around under the stars like a king!”

The murmurs began, low at first, then growing into an ugly chorus. “Eighteen months? Ha!” a man laughed from the far end. “And he still has the nerve to sleep here.” “Somebody like that should be thrown out tonight,” a woman muttered darkly. Another voice, sharper, hissed from the crowd, “Better yet, beat him till he learns not to cheat people!”

Asher's stomach tightened. The words were like stones thrown in the dark, each one finding its mark. “Kill him!” someone in the back shouted, and a small ripple of laughter followed.

Tessa’s voice broke through, pleading, “Please, please stop. This is not.....” Her voice was drowned out by another burst of jeers.

“Look at him,” a young man snickered, leaning against a wall. “Can’t even keep a roof over his head but has the time to sit with his wife like he’s in a movie.” “Maybe that’s why he’s broke,” someone else called. “Too busy stargazing to pay rent!”

The laughter rose, raw and cutting. Asher stood rigid in Braxton’s grip, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. The urge to shout back burned in his chest, but he swallowed it. Words would only feed the fire.

Tessa reached for Braxton’s arm again. “Please, sir, this is humiliating...” “Good,” Braxton barked. “Maybe humiliation will make him pay faster.” A few people clapped mockingly at that.

From the second floor, an elderly woman shook her head and said loud enough for all to hear, “He looks too proud to beg, but not too proud to live off someone else’s roof. Shameful!”

The compound was awake now, fully alive with the scent of scandal. Children peered out from behind their parents’ legs, eyes wide. Neighbors whispered and pointed.