Chapter 7

Maxwell's thumb hovered over the screen. "And?" Maxwell looked at Kieran. 

“You will have to ask your aunt about the details, " Kieran said. 

He had an Aunt? Maxwell simply nodded. Although deep down he was now wondering who his aunt was and what was she like? Naturally he had so many questions right now.

He swiped to the next photo.

His father, older now. Mid-thirties maybe. Standing in front of a massive building, all glass and steel reaching toward the sky. The logo on the building read "Sterling Industries." Maxwell's hand went still.

"That's the headquarters," Kieran said quietly. "Your father built that company from the ground up. It was worth over five billion when he died many years ago"

Maxwell looked up from the tablet. "He's dead?" He asked. 

Kieran nodded. "Yes, fifteen years ago. It…. Was a car accident." His expression turned slightly different, “I'm sorry for your loss,”

That long? Something cracked inside Maxwell's chest. He wasn't feeling lots of grief right now. Not really, because the truth was he'd never known the man. But still, he felt something else. Something that felt like loss anyway. He would have liked to have met his dad. 

He'd spent his whole life hearing from Debra talk about the man who was his father, how he was a nobody. That he'd inherited nothing but shame. But his father had been someone. Had built something. Had been worth something.

And Maxwell had never known about that. 

"Why now?" Maxwell asked in a rough voice. "If this is real, why are you telling me this now? Why not ten years ago? Why not when I was twelve and getting locked out of the house? Why not when I was fifteen and Debra told me I should've been aborted?"

Kieran's expression shifted. He quickly explained, "Your aunt didn't know you existed until eight months ago," he said. "Your father never told anyone about your mother. About you. He kept it private. Even years after he died, no one knew. Not long ago his sister, Victoria, found some old photos in his belongings. Letters he never sent. It took her this long to track you down."

Maxwell stared at him. His mind was spinning, trying to process everything at once and failing.

"She's been searching for you since then," Kieran continued. 

"What does she want?" Maxwell asked. "Your boss. Victoria. What does she want from me?"

"She wants to meet you," Kieran said simply. "She wants to tell you about your father. About your family. And..." He paused. "She wants to give you what's yours."

"What's mine?" 

Kieran met his eyes. "Your father's will left everything to his bloodline. His sister's been holding it in trust, waiting to find you. You're the heir, Master Maxwell.”

Maxwell felt like time stopped at those words? He was an heir? To some multi billion dollar empire?

___

Almost two hours later, Maxwell sat in his house on the edge of his bed, staring at the business card in his hand.

The light from his bedside lamp caught the embossed letters, making them stand out against the cream-colored cardstock. Kieran Ashford

The name was printed in a clean, professional font. Below it, smaller text:

Executive Assistant to Victoria Sterling

Sterling Industries

At the bottom, a phone number. An email address. And in the corner, that logo, a stylized 'S' that matched the one from the photos Kieran had shown him.

Maxwell turned the card over. The back was blank except for a handwritten note in neat, precise script: Call anytime. —K

Before they'd parted ways in that parking lot, Kieran had pressed this card into his palm. "A way to reach out," he'd said, his voice sincere.

Maxwell couldn't stop thinking about everything Kieran had told him. Normally, he wouldn't have believed any of it. But he'd seen the photos. His father. Debra, young and standing next to that man. And the biggest proof was the resemblance between the man in the photo and him. The buildings, the logos. None of it looked fake.

As he was lost in thought, the only thing that brought Maxwell back toreality was the pain from his finger and hand that had gotten cut from picking up the glasses. He'd wrapped it in a kitchen towel when he got home, but the white fabric was already soaked through with red. The cut wasn't deep, but it stung like hell.

He looked around his apartment. And it was very small. Exactly what you would expect. A one bedroom, barely a kitchen. Furniture he'd bought secondhand off Craigslist. Walls thin enough that he could hear his neighbors arguing about money through the drywall.

This had been his life for the last five years. Ever since Ramon fired him from Lexus Corporation.

He'd saved that company. Pulled it back from the edge when it was drowning in debt. And the second it was profitable again, they'd tossed him out. Ramon took the credit. Debra praised him for it. And Maxwell became invisible.

Now he delivers food on weekends to make rent. Worked part-time at a warehouse during the week, loading boxes until his back ached. Meanwhile, his mother, the woman who had given birth to him lived a completely different and luxurious life. 

But maybe that was about to change. His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Maxwell picked it up, expecting spam. Instead, it was a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Good evening, Master Maxwell. This is Kieran. I hope you made it home safely. Ms. Victoria would like to meet you tomorrow at noon. A car will arrive at your address at 11:45 AM. Please let me know if this works for you.

Maxwell stared at the screen.

Master Maxwell.

The guy kept calling him that. Like he was someone who mattered.

He typed back: How did you get my address?

The response came fast.

Kieran: We've been searching for you for a long time. We have your information on file. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable.

Maxwell set the phone down. 

He should've felt creeped out. Violated, maybe. But mostly he just felt tired. And something else. Something he didn't want to name yet. Excitement.

He wasn't the type to show his emotions, but yes, he was very excited about all this. It sat low in his chest, simmering under everything else. He didn't want to acknowledge it because acknowledging it meant hoping. And hope had never done him any favors.

His phone buzzed again. It was another message. 

Kieran: I understand if you need time to think about this. But Ms. Victoria has waited a long time to meet you. She's your family, Master Maxwell.

Family. Maxwell stared at the word for a long moment. Then he picked up his phone and typed: I'll be ready at 11:45.

The reply came almost instantly.

Kieran: Thank you, Master Maxwell. I'll see you tomorrow.*

Maxwell set the phone down and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, he'd find out if Kieran was telling the truth.

Tomorrow, he'd meet Victoria Sterling.

Tomorrow, maybe his life will finally change