The Rightful Heir
HARDIN'S POV
As soon as I stepped into my office, I shut the door behind me with a finality that echoed off the walls like a gunshot. Vera followed silently, sensing the gravity of my mood. The moment the door clicked shut, I turned to her.
"Sit down," I said.
She did without question, lowering herself onto the leather armchair across from my desk, her brow furrowed with curiosity and concern. I remained standing, fingers curling around the edge of the desk, grounding myself.
"Something happened yesterday," I began, my voice tighter than usual. "Something strange."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Go on."
"A woman came to my office. Said her name was Elena. Mid-thirties. Sharp eyes. Like she knew things she shouldn’t."
Vera straightened, alert. "What did she want?"
"She mentioned the dock first. Asked me if I remembered anything about Project Seraphim."
Vera’s expression twisted into confusion. "What’s that?"
I shook my head. "That’s the thing—I don’t know. She handed me a flash drive and said it would explain everything. But when I plugged it in... it was empty."
"Empty?"
I nodded. "No files. No data. Nothing."
She frowned. "Sounds like someone trying to play mind games."
"Or deliver a message in a language I don’t yet understand."
She tilted her head. "You think it’s a threat?"
"I think it’s a puzzle. And I’m starting to realize I’m standing in the center of a game I didn’t ask to play."
I walked around the desk and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out an envelope. I slid it across the surface to Vera.
"I got this last night. No return address. Just my name. Inside was a single page and this."
I opened the envelope carefully, revealing a document. Vera’s eyes scanned the page as I spoke.
"It’s about the Blackthorn Institute."
She blinked, stunned. "The Blackthorn Institute? That’s just... a rumor, Hardin. Stories passed around by paranoid rich families and old politicians. No one’s ever proven it even exists."
"And yet," I tapped the edge of the paper, "here it is. And somehow it's related to my family."
She exhaled. Long and slow. Her shoulders tensed. "This is getting bigger than I thought."
"Tell me about it."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air felt thick, heavy with unanswered questions and invisible threats.
Then Vera reached forward, placing her hand over mine. Her skin was warm, steadying.
"Hardin, listen to me. You’re the heir. The long-lost king come home to a kingdom everyone thought had no heir. Not everyone’s happy about that. You know that."
I nodded.
"So people are going to come at you with whatever they’ve got. Secrets. Lies. Half-truths designed to knock you off balance."
"It’s working," I muttered.
She squeezed my hand tighter. "Don’t let it. You have to be stronger than this. You always have been. And I’m here. Always. Got it?"
I looked at her then, really looked. At the fire in her eyes. The loyalty written across her face. Vera had never been just a friend. Never just my best friend. She was my anchor in a sea that never stopped raging. She was my sister.
"You left the Millers for this," I said quietly. "Why?"
She smiled. "Because where you are is where I belong. You’re my best friend, Hardin. And you need someone who’s not afraid to tell you when you’re spiraling."
My lips twitched into a smile, small and fleeting. But real.
She stood up, brushing invisible lint off her dress. "Now, enough brooding. We’ve got a day to survive."
I stood as well, straightening my posture. "You really think someone’s just trying to rattle me?"
She turned at the door, one hand on the knob. "I think someone’s terrified you’ll remember what they tried to bury."
And with that, she walked out, heels clicking softly against the floor.
I remained standing, staring at the closed door. My heart thudded in my chest, uneven and restless.
I turned back to the desk, pulling open the drawer again. I retrieved the flash drive, still cold to the touch. Plugging it into my laptop, I stared at the screen mocking me with nothing.
What was the meaning of all this?
I stared at the screen, breath catching. Everything just felt so strange and complicated.
Project Seraphim. The dock. Elena. The flash drive. The Blackthorn Institute.
They weren’t fragments.
They were pieces of a storm heading straight for me.
The question was: would I be ready when it hit?
The door opened again. Vera peeked in.
"Hardin, we’ve got a problem downstairs. Andrew’s talking to the media. I think he’s spinning a story."
Of course he was.
"I’ll be down. Give me two minutes."
She nodded and left.
I stood up, grabbed the flash drive, and slid it into my pocket.
The war had already started.
And I wasn’t just a player.
I was the prize.
As I walked toward the door, I paused.
What battles await me now?
Whatever they were, I’d face them.
With fire in my veins.
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