THE ESTATE'S SECRET

Daniels yelled, snatching the bottle from Pierce.

Alex wasn't just anyone—he was one of Pierce Landon's oldest friends. A level-headed lawyer with a sarcastic streak, he was known for being the voice of reason among their small circle. Tonight, though, even he seemed unsure how to deal with the mess in front of him.

They had all come out to unwind in Club HEX, but for the first time, Pierce paid no attention to the strippers around him. Instead, he drowned himself in alcohol, spiraling deeper into whatever storm brewed in his mind.

"Fuck, man, gi... give it... give it... back... man," Pierce slurred, collapsing onto the couch.

"You can't even form a sentence. That's how drunk you are," Alex hissed, dropping the bottle on the center table.

"Just let him be," said Timothy, who had been silent until now.

Where Alex was the logical one, Timothy the owner of Club HEX was the quiet watcher. He rarely said much, and tonight, he just sat back, observing Pierce with unreadable eyes.

"Yeah, and watch him kill himself," Alex glared at him.

"A few drinks won't kill him. Besides, I think he's going through some stuff," Timothy responded, still staring at Pierce.

This was the first time either of them had seen Pierce like this. The man who was always the life of the party was now just... withdrawn.

"Yeah, right," Alex muttered under his breath.

Sitting close to Pierce was Betty Owens, a glamorous socialite and loud fuck buddy—at least, that's what she liked to call it. Truthfully, Betty had never been just a fling. She was obsessed with him.

She rubbed his chest softly, her voice a breathy murmur. "Come on, Pierce, you can confide in me. What's wrong? Why are you down?"

Pierce ignored her, his mind buried deep in thoughts of Camille… and the possibility that the child she carried might actually be his.

Truthfully, he was still confused by the news. When his father had told him about the girl—Camille—and her pregnancy, he thought… he thought it was a prank. A twisted joke.

He had sworn never to give his father an heir. Never. And now this?

How?

He had been careful—painfully careful. Made sure never to impregnate anyone. So how was it possible that a girl he doesn't even remember sleeping with was now living in the estate, claiming to be his baby mama.

If that child was his, if there was even the slightest chance…

That would ruin everything.

Withholding a child from his father was Pierce’s only leverage. The only way to uncover the truth about the past. If the General had the heir he wanted, then the secrets Pierce fought to uncover would remain buried. Forever.

Betty tried again. She leaned in, tracing a line down his chest with a perfectly manicured finger. “Or,” she whispered, “how about I help you forget?”

From across the room, Georgina—Betty's best friend and the only woman in the room not obsessed with Pierce—watched the whole scene unfold with disbelief. She never understood what Betty saw in the man. Sure, he was rich and devastatingly handsome, but Georgina could see the wreckage behind his charm.

Pierce shoved Betty away. "Fuck you! And fuck her! You all out here trying to ruin my life, and I won't let her! If I have to kill her, then so be it!" he roared, staggering to his feet.

Alex stood at once, alarmed. "Who do you want to kill, Pierce?" he demanded, eyes locked on his friend.

"None of your business," Pierce spat, storming out of the VIP room in a drunken rage.

Betty jumped up, scrambling after him. "Pierce, wait!"

He shoved her aside roughly. "Get the fuck away from me!" he screeched.

Luckily, Alex caught her before she hit the ground. For a split second, his arms tightened around her—too tightly. But the moment she landed in his hold, Betty recoiled like his touch burned her. She didn't even look at him.

"Pierce!!" she screamed and sprinted after him. But by then, Pierce Landon was already out of the VIP room—and out of the club—drunkenly speeding home.

"I hope he doesn't actually kill anyone," Alex muttered, standing next to Betty, who was now panting hard. "And that he gets home safe."

Timothy appeared beside them, a drink in his hand. "His father is the fucking General. No trouble would befall him."

If Alex didn't know better, he'd think he heard resentment in Timothy's voice.

***

Pierce Landon drove into his father's estate like a man possessed. The guards jumped out of the way, too afraid to end their lives on a Thursday night.

He stumbled out of his car, swaying violently, and made his way to the front doors of the estate. As he approached, the guards scrambled to open them.

"WHERE... IS... GEN... GENRAL!!" Pierce bellowed, the words barely coherent.

"You can't see your father in this state. I'll take you to your room," Ms. Elizabeth offered quickly, rushing forward.

"LET GO OF ME... LET GO... WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!" Pierce screamed, his voice echoing through the mansion.

General Landon, awakened from his sleep, rushed out of his room. As he reached the top of the staircase, Pierce's voice thundered from below.

"GET HIM HERE! FATHER!!!!!!"

"What is the meaning of this, son? It is the middle of the night," the General said calmly. It wasn't the first time his son had torn through the house like a storm.

"And here comes the best father in the world!" Pierce jeered, mock-clapping with exaggerated venom.

The General exhaled sharply. "Take him to his room."

"Yes, sir," Ms. Elizabeth nodded, grabbing Pierce's arm—but he jerked away instantly.

"You want a baby, don't you? You want a fucking heir! Well, THAT IS NEVER HAPPENING! I DIDN'T GET THAT BITCH PREGNANT!"

"Leave the confirmation to the DNA results," the General replied coldly, motioning to the soldiers at the door.

Pierce let out a bitter, guttural laugh. "If you think I'll let you win, you're delusional! You don't deserve anything good in your life. You— let me go, LET GO OF MY HAND!" he roared as the soldiers grabbed him.

Upstairs, the chaos had woken someone else.

Camille Owens.

And even though she knew the smart thing would be to mind her business, curiosity had a stronger pull. Quietly, she stepped into the hallway, her heart racing.

Pierce's voice echoed louder now. "I WON'T LET YOU GET YOUR WAY! I'LL KILL THAT BITCH IF I HAVE TO!"

Camille gasped, covering her mouth.

Until now, she had thought Pierce was just a reckless playboy trying to escape responsibility. But hearing this... she realized something deeper, something darker was going on. And it might be bigger than anything she was prepared for.

"Drag him if you have to. Lock him in his room. I don't want to see him until he sobers up," the General said, eerily calm.

"Why? Gonna lock me up like you did my mother?" Pierce shouted, thrashing as they dragged him past the hallway—away from Camille's room. "YOU KILLED HER! SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

His screams faded behind a slammed door.

Camille stood frozen, heart thudding in her chest.

"Check on the girl. See if she was woken up," the General told Ms. Elizabeth.

"Yes, sir."

Camille darted back into her room and dived under the covers, feigning sleep.

Seconds later, the door creaked open. "Camille?" Ms. Elizabeth called gently.

Silence.

After another call, Ms. Elizabeth closed the door and left.

Camille opened her eyes, breath trembling.

What on earth had she just stumbled into?

Did the General kill his wife?

And if the baby growing inside her really was Pierce's... would those threats become real?