Chapter 7: The Missing Heir

Chaos had taken over the Hargrove mansion. Edmund Hargrove paced across the drawing room, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the men standing before him.

His grandson was missing. That alone was enough to make the entire house feel like hell might break loose.

“Tell me again, why you didn't bring my grandson back home.”

The family driver swallowed. “I— I couldn't find him, sir.”

“You were supposed to pick him up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then where is he?”

The driver lowered his head. “I don't know.”

Edmund stopped pacing.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the man.

“You don't know.”

“No, sir.”

Edmund's expression hardened. “I’m struggling to follow, are you saying you couldn't find my grandson at the airport? And you came back without searching and bringing him home?”

“Sir, I've searched the airport and—”

“You did? I see.”

The driver spoke quickly. “Sir, I'll go back and search again.”

Before he could leave, two guards approached and took hold of his arms.

“Wait— sir!”

Edmund didn't even look at him. “Until my grandson is found, keep him locked up.”

The guards dragged the protesting driver away.

Edmund turned toward his most trusted enforcer. “Every camera around the airport.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Inside. Outside. The parking lot. The roads leading in and out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want everything checked, including the driver’s possible involvement.”

The enforcer nodded. “Already being investigated.”

“Then investigate faster. I want my grandson back, unharmed.” Edmund's voice dropped. “Bring me Eliot.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man hurried away.

Edmund remained standing in the middle of the room.

Eliot had always been protected, perhaps too much. He had grown up surrounded by guards, drivers, bodyguards and people whose job was to make sure nothing happened to him.

Yet somehow, today, he had vanished.

Edmund didn't like mysteries. He especially didn't like mysteries involving his grandson.

Hurried footsteps suddenly echoed through the corridor.

Helena rushed into the room. “Father!”

Her face was wet with tears, and Nathan, her husband, followed closely behind her.

“What's going on?” she demanded. “Where is Eliot?”

Edmund's expression softened slightly when he saw his daughter. “We're looking for him.”

“Looking?” Her voice broke. “Father, he's supposed to have gotten home hours ago!”

“I know.”

“What if something happened to him?”

Nathan stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Helena—”

“No!” She turned toward him, tears spilling down her face. “My baby just got back from abroad after two years of being away, he's supposed to get a welcome party not a search party.”

Edmund looked at her. “We will find him.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Helena covered her mouth, trying to hold back another sob.

Edmund walked toward her. “Go upstairs.”

“Father—”

“Go upstairs with Nathan. Eat something and rest.”

“But—”

“Helena.”

His tone left no room for argument.

She finally nodded.

Nathan wrapped an arm around her and guided her toward the door.

Helena looked back one last time. “Please find my son.”

Edmund watched them leave… then his face hardened again.

He turned toward the windows.

“My grandson. Who dared?”

Hours passed.

The mansion grew quieter as the evening settled over it.

Edmund remained in his study, waiting.

Finally, the door opened and his enforcer stepped inside.

He looked exhausted.

Edmund immediately looked up. “Well?”

The man closed the door behind him. “We found something.”

Edmund straightened. “Eliot?”

“Not exactly, we're yet to find him.”

His jaw tightened. “Then speak, what did you find?”

The enforcer took a cautious breath. “We traced Eliot's last known movements.”

“And?”

“He told the driver he wanted to kill some time at an accessory shop while waiting to be picked up.”

Edmund frowned. “Why wasn't the driver there by the time he landed?”

“There was a traffic hold up.”

“What happened next?”

“He left the shop without buying anything. That is very unusual for the young master, he normally buys more than he can carry.”

Edmund's expression darkened. “So where did my grandson go?”

“From the information we got, he went to the parking lot.”

Edmund stared at him. “The parking lot?”

“Yes. And we found signs of a shooting.”

The room went still.

Edmund's face changed. “A shooting?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was Eliot there?”

“We believe so.”

Edmund stepped closer. “Believe?”

“We haven't found his body.”

Edmund's eyes narrowed. “Then how do you know he was shot?”

The enforcer hesitated. “Because we've spoken to someone who saw what happened.”

Edmund waited. “A witness?”

“Yes, sir. A beta male who happened to be nearby.”

Edmund's voice became quieter. “What exactly did he see?”

The enforcer opened the folder in his hands.

“He said young master was chasing a boy.”

“What boy?”

“He couldn't give us a name.”

Edmund frowned. “Why was Eliot chasing the boy?”

“We don't know.” The enforcer pulled out a photograph. “But the boy looked almost identical to young master. This photo of him was taken by the witness right before the boy was picked up a black SUV.”

Edmund took the photograph.

His eyes narrowed. The picture wasn't particularly clear, but even through the poor quality, the resemblance was unmistakable. Same face shape, same eyes, same features.

For a moment, Edmund said nothing. “Who is he?”

“We don't know.”

“Then find out.”

The enforcer nodded. “There is more.”

Edmund looked up.

“The witness said three men in dark clothing were following young master and the boy, right before they heard a gunshot.”

Edmund's grip tightened around the photograph.

His voice lowered. “When they looked again, young master had been shot.”

Edmund's face went cold. “So where is he?”

“We don't know that either.”

Edmund slammed the photograph onto his desk. “You came back just to tell me that you don't know anything.”

“Sir, we're still investigating.”

“Then investigate faster.”

The enforcer swallowed. “We believe the men took young master away.”

“Dead?”

“We can't confirm that.”

Edmund stared at him. “My grandson was shot.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And abducted.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you don't know whether he's alive.”

The enforcer lowered his head. “No, sir.”

Edmund turned away.

For several seconds, there was only silence.

Then he spoke. “What about the other boy?”

The enforcer looked up. “We're searching for him. He may know who attacked young master, and we're suspecting he may have lured young master to the parking lot.”

Edmund looked back at the photograph.

The strange boy's face stared up at forward. A face that shouldn't exist, a face almost identical to his grandson's.

“What else did the witness say?”

“That young master was chasing the boy before the shooting.”

Edmund's expression hardened. “Then he knows something.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Find him, as soon as possible.”

The enforcer nodded.

“And when you do?” Edmund's eyes remained fixed on the photograph. “Bring him to me.”

“Yes, sir.” The enforcer turned to leave.

“Wait.”

He stopped.

Edmund picked up the photograph again.

“Quietly.”

The enforcer understood.

“We don't know who we're dealing with yet.”

“Understood, Sir.”

He slipped the photograph back into the folder.

“I want answers before whoever did this realizes we're looking.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man left.

Edmund remained alone in the study.

His eyes fell on the photograph once more.

The boy's face looked almost exactly like Eliot's. And “almost”, in this case, exists because the boy in the photograph looks less nourished compared to Elliot.

Edmund had no idea who the boy was, he didn't know why Eliot had been chasing him, he didn't know who had shot his grandson or where they had taken him… but he knew one thing.

Somewhere outside that mansion was a boy who had crossed paths with Eliot Hargrove. And until Edmund found him, the mystery surrounding his grandson's abduction would remain unanswered.

“My grandson's face on a stranger's face, a clone?” he murmured to himself. “Who’s the fool that dared?”