A GRANDSON RECEIVED, A FORTUNE EARNED

The hallway leading to Eduardo Perez’s bedroom smelled of lavender oil and finality. Silent-footed nurses hovered just beyond his door, their faces pinched with reverence and dread, as though death itself lingered on the other side—impatient, but polite.

Pedro stood at the far end of the corridor, eyes fixed on the closed door ahead. His arms were crossed tightly, his tailored black suit still sharp, though the tension in his jaw betrayed the weight he carried. Beside him, Mandy adjusted the baby blanket around infant Andre, who lay quiet in her arms, his tiny features cradled against the silk of her gown.

"Are you ready?" she whispered to Pedro, casting him a quick glance.

His reply was delayed.

"I don’t think anyone’s ever ready to say goodbye to a man like my father," Pedro murmured. His voice was devoid of the emotion swelling beneath the surface, but Mandy didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched at his sides. “But we’ve waited long enough. He asked for this.”

The double doors creaked open without warning. A nurse stepped out, her face solemn. “He’s awake and lucid… for now. He asked for his grandson.”

Pedro gave a single nod, then led the way inside.

The room was dim and regal. Antique furnishings lined the walls, gold trims glinting in the morning light that filtered through half-drawn curtains. At the center of it all, Eduardo Perez lay in a sprawling mahogany bed with a lace-covered headrest. Once a titan of business and charisma, Eduardo now looked like a shadow of his former self. His skin sagged. His once-sharp eyes had dulled with time. Yet the moment Pedro entered, they lit up—like a match sparking in the dark.

Pedro’s voice was steady. “Father.”

Eduardo’s cracked lips twitched. “You took your time.”

“I had to retrieve the prince,” Pedro said, gesturing to the baby in Mandy’s arms. “He’s here.”

Mandy moved forward slowly, reverently. Her posture was perfect. Her face, composed. She presented the baby like a relic—fragile, priceless, holy.

Eduardo raised both trembling hands, the effort visibly draining him.

“Bring him closer,” he rasped.

Mandy placed the child gently in Eduardo’s arms. For a moment, the room stilled entirely. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

The old man looked down at Andre. The infant blinked, then stretched one tiny arm toward his grandfather’s face. Eduardo chuckled, the sound brittle and dry.

“Pedro… he has your mother’s eyes.”

Pedro remained silent, watching. A flicker of something crossed his face, but he didn’t speak.

“Look at him,” Eduardo continued. “Look at this perfect boy. The Perez blood… unbroken.”

Mandy took a seat beside the bed, her hand brushing Andre’s head protectively.

“I feared I’d die before I ever held my heir,” Eduardo whispered, voice shaking. “But now—he’s here. My legacy is complete.”

Pedro finally stepped closer. “You said once you wouldn’t pass the empire down to me unless I gave you a grandson. You have him now.”

Eduardo chuckled again, softer this time, eyes still fixed on the child. “And true to your nature, you found a way to get one… by any means necessary.”

Pedro tensed. Mandy’s gaze flickered toward him, but she said nothing.

“You don’t approve?” Pedro asked, voice low.

Eduardo looked up then, and something sharp passed through his old gaze.

“I approve of results,” he said simply. “And you’ve delivered.”

He shifted slowly, gesturing toward a sleek black folder on the nightstand.

“The documents are ready,” he said. “I had them drawn up as soon as I knew the child had arrived.”

Pedro reached for the folder, opening it. His eyes scanned the contents—the full transfer of the Perez Holdings Empire into his name. Property. Stocks. International assets. Everything. It was all there, signed and waiting.

Eduardo’s voice was weaker now, but there was pride in it.

“Everything I built… every damn battle I fought… is now yours.”

Pedro’s fingers tightened on the document.

“I won’t fail you.”

“I know,” Eduardo said. Then, glancing down again at Andre, his voice softened to something almost reverent. “And now, you won’t fail him.”

He looked at Mandy, and for a long moment, said nothing.

“You’ve always been shrewd,” he said at last. “More calculating than most give you credit for. I trust you’ll protect this boy. Raise him well.”

“I will,” Mandy said, her voice firm. “He will be everything the Perez name demands.”

Eduardo nodded slowly, clearly satisfied.

“Good.”

His arms trembled. Carefully, Mandy reached out and took Andre from him, returning the baby to the safety of her chest. She stepped back.

Eduardo rested his head against the pillow. A peaceful smile crept across his face. The room felt heavier.

“I’ve held him,” Eduardo murmured. “I’ve passed the torch. Now… I can sleep.”

Pedro stepped closer to the bed, lowering himself onto the chair by his father’s side. “Father—”

Eduardo raised one trembling hand, pressing it against Pedro’s.

“You’ve done well, son. I was hard on you… cruel, even. But you needed to be forged, not nurtured. And now you’re strong enough to carry this empire. Strong enough to lead.”

Pedro swallowed hard. His jaw flexed.

“I hope I’ve made you proud.”

“You have.” Eduardo gave a shallow, raspy breath. “More than you know.”

His fingers gripped Pedro’s tightly for one final moment, then relaxed.

He turned his face away from them and closed his eyes.

Silence fell.

For a while, nothing moved. Not even the baby.

Then, as though sensing the shift, Andre began to cry.

At first, it was a soft whimper. Then it grew. Louder. Sharper. Piercing. It rattled the room with a force far too large for such a small body.

Mandy rocked him gently. “Shhh, baby… shhh…”

But Andre kept wailing, his small fists curled, legs kicking.

Pedro stood abruptly. His eyes darted to his father.

The doctor entered, drawn by the sudden noise. He moved briskly to Eduardo’s side and checked his pulse.

His hand paused.

The room froze.

The doctor looked up, solemn.

“He’s gone.”

Mandy gasped softly. Pedro’s face drained of color.

Andre’s cries rose higher—raw, insistent, desperate. As if he had seen something the rest of them hadn’t. As if the child had watched a soul rise from the room and disappear.

Pedro looked down at his father’s still form. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Then he stepped back, brushing a hand over his face.

“Get the staff,” he told the doctor. “Prepare the family announcement. My father’s dead.”

The doctor nodded and exited silently.

Mandy rocked Andre harder now, pressing him to her chest. Her lips brushed the baby’s forehead.

“Quiet now,” she whispered, even as her own eyes shimmered with tears she didn’t let fall. “It’s over. You’ve done your part.”

Pedro remained by the bed, looking at the man who had both haunted and shaped his life.

A long silence fell again.

Mandy turned toward him, holding the child like a trophy. “It’s done now,” she said gently. “You have the empire. Andre is yours. We are untouchable.”

Pedro glanced at her—at the baby in her arms. His lips barely moved.

“For now.”

And with that, the chapter of Eduardo Perez’s reign ended—not with thunder, but with a child’s scream echoing through a golden room, and the quiet dread of legacy left behind.