Kieran Castellan

KIERAN’S POV.

The sound of voices filled the meeting room as the managers talked about the new project. Charts, numbers, and slides filled the screen in front of us. I tried to listen, but my mind kept drifting away.

“…and if we release the app by next week, we can expect a twenty percent increase in market attention,” one of the department heads said.

I nodded slightly, tapping my pen against the table. “Good. But make sure the quality team checks every single line before launch. I don’t want mistakes.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied quickly.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the large glass window that showed the city below. I could see everything from here — the tall buildings, the cars, the busy people. Yet somehow, I always felt alone up here.

When the meeting ended, the staff started packing their laptops and papers. I was about to stand when the door opened.

My stepfather walked in.

“Good afternoon, Kieran,” he said with a fake smile. His voice always carried that false sweetness that made my skin crawl.

I didn’t bother to stand or return the smile. “What do you want?”

He laughed softly. “Can’t I visit my son without a reason?”

I waited till everyone was out. Then I turned to him, my jaw clenched. “You’re not my father.”

He looked around the office as if admiring it. “Still the same old Kieran. Always so cold. You should relax a little. You’ve done well for yourself. The project is going public soon, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied shortly.

He nodded. “Your grandfather would be proud.”

I said nothing. Mentioning my grandfather always made my chest tighten. He was the only one who ever cared about me.

Let me tell you something about my family. We were old money. The Castellan family had been powerful for decades — businesses, estates, and more wealth than anyone could count. My real father died when I was only two. My mother remarried soon after. That was her biggest mistake.

My stepfather came into our lives with a smile and a plan. Years later, my mother died mysteriously. No one could prove anything, but I knew he had a hand in it. After that, he brought his mistress into our home — and her son, Damien.

I could have thrown them out. But my grandfather had made my stepfather my legal guardian before he died, thinking it would “protect me.” So while I was in charge, I wasn’t completely free. Our family believed that only a man with a wife and child could be the true head of the family.

I tried once. I married a woman I thought I could trust. But she was working with my stepmother and Damien to take everything from me. When I found out, I divorced her and left the estate to them. They were happy at first — until they realized they no longer had control over me. Since then, they’ve been trying to pull me back in.

And now, my stepfather was standing in my office, pretending to care.

He placed his hands in his pockets and gave me that fake fatherly look. “You’ve done a great job running the company, Kieran. Truly. But you know the rules of the family. Without a wife, your position is—”

“—at risk,” I finished for him, my tone flat. “I’ve heard this speech before.”

He smiled thinly. “I’m only reminding you. You wouldn’t want Damien to take your seat, would you?”

I looked at him coldly. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

He raised his brows innocently. “Of course not. I only care about the family’s image.”

“Don’t lie,” I said quietly. “You’ve been waiting for this.”

His smile twitched, but he quickly covered it. “I’m only doing what’s best for everyone. You’re a smart man, Kieran. You know what to do.”

“Yeah, so is your slut,” I replied coldly.

His fists clenched in rage, and his jaw tight. “You still think she was behind your ex wife's betrayal?”

I looked at him for a long moment, then said, “I already have someone,” I revealed, trying to change the subject.

He froze. “What did you say?”

“I said I already have a girl to marry.”

Shock flickered across his face. “Who?”

I leaned back in my chair, calm and expressionless. “That’s a surprise.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Believe what you want,” I said. “But you’ll find out soon.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then sighed. “You’re just like your mother. Always secretive.” He started to walk away, then turned at the door. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kieran. The family doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

The door closed behind him.

Silence filled the room.

I ran my hand through my hair and let out a breath. Every visit from him felt like poison. The office was the only place where I felt safe, and even that wasn’t enough sometimes.

I worked late that night, checking reports and reading files, trying to distract myself. When I finally leaned back and turned on the TV for some noise, the evening news was on.

My eyes caught something instantly.

A woman was standing on the edge of a rooftop — my building’s rooftop.

The reporter’s voice came through the speakers: “A young woman is threatening to jump from the Castellan’s Tower. Police are on their way…”

My heart skipped.

I grabbed my coat and rushed out of the office, heading straight for the elevator. The ride up felt endless. When the doors opened, I rushed out.

And there she was — standing dangerously close to the edge, her hair flying in the wind.

“Hey!” I called, walking slowly toward her. “Step away from the edge.”

She didn’t turn around. Her voice was shaky but loud. “Don’t come closer! I swear, I’ll do it!”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said softly. “Just talk to me.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Talk? You think talking can fix anything? I’m done talking.”

“Please,” I said, taking another step. “Whatever happened, it can be fixed.”

She turned then — and my heart froze.

It was her. Michelle. The same woman Damien had left.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Don’t try to stop me,” she said. “I’ll drag your boss down to hell with me.”

“I am the boss,” I said.

She blinked, confused. “You?”

“Yes,” I said. “Now come down. Let’s talk inside.”

She laughed again, a broken sound. “There is no point in that. It's a little too late for that.”

“Look, I just want to help. I don't know what you are going through but I'm sure we can talk it out,” I said gently, slowly moving closer.

“I gave everything for him!” she cried. “Everything! And now he wants to throw me away like trash! My mother is dying, and I have nothing left. Nothing!”

That sounds like Damien.

Tears rolled down her face. She shook her head. “Two days… that’s all she has left. Two days before she’s gone.”

“Michelle, listen to me,” I said, slowly moving closer. “Don’t do anything stupid. You’re not alone.”

She smiled weakly, her eyes empty. “I’ve already done stupid things. This is just the last one.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Come down. We can talk. I’ll help you.”

She looked down at the streets below and then at me. “You don’t get it,” she whispered. “I’ll face judgment for my sins in the afterlife. But the Castellan's… they should get their judgment here.”

I hated the fact that she kept using the name “Castellan”. I was Castellan. My step father and his minions were Devereaux.

“Michelle—” I started, moving quickly toward her.

But before I could reach her, her foot slipped.

“Michelle!” I shouted, running forward.

She fell. Straight off the skyscraper.

I froze in shock.