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Chapter 27: Guilty Conscience
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2025-07-23 21:57:28
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THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 38: Interesting
Lucien woke up the next morning with a slight headache. His body felt weak, like all the strength had drained from him overnight. He groaned softly and rolled onto his back, his hand brushing over his forehead. Something cool and damp was resting there. He blinked, confused, and slowly removed the cloth. It was a folded handkerchief, damp with water. “Where did this come from?” he muttered, staring at it. He was sure—absolutely sure—that he had gone to bed without anything on his forehead. He didn’t even own a handkerchief like this. It looked too clean, too expensive to be his. “If I didn’t put this here… then who did?” he whispered to himself. The idea of someone coming into his room while he slept made his stomach twist. His mind quickly jumped to Zayn. But that thought felt ridiculous. “Sir Zayn? No way,” Lucien mumbled. “He wouldn’t… would he?” Before he could think too far, another wave of headache hit him like a hammer, and he let out a soft groan, curling slightl
THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 37: Confused
Lucien had stayed in his room the entire day. He hadn’t stepped outside once, not even to peek through the door. What surprised him most was that, unlike the usual routine, lunch and dinner had both been brought to him. He didn’t have to walk to the kitchen or deal with the rude glares and whispers from the maids. Just like that, his meals arrived on a tray, as if he were someone important. He sat quietly on the bed, staring at the empty plate on the table. "Was this a dream?" he mumbled under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the tray like it might disappear if he blinked. With a tired sigh, he leaned to the small pile of books on the shelf beside his bed and pulled out a worn comic book. He had read it more times than he could count—sometimes out of boredom, sometimes for comfort. But today, the drawings didn’t catch his attention. The words on the pages blurred together. His mind was elsewhere. He dropped the comic in his lap, eyes distant. That kiss. He could still feel
THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 36: Little Changes
After they were done eating, Zayn dropped his spoon and leaned back into his chair, letting out a quiet breath. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave the table just yet. He sat there silently, waiting for the food to digest a little. Amy stood up from her chair and looked at her mother. Vera gave her a gentle nod. Encouraged, Amy walked up to her father. “Daddy, can you take me to the Disneyland next weekend Please?” Her voice was soft and hopeful, the kind only a ten-year-old could manage. "I always wanted to go with you and now school is almost coming to a close, I wanna go with you" As soon as Amy asked, Daisy frowned deeply, hiding it behind her cup. Vera, on the other hand, smiled and watched closely, waiting for Zayn’s response. Zayn didn’t reply right away. His face didn’t show much, as usual. After a moment, he said, “Amy, you know I don’t have time at all. Your mommy will take you. You can get whatever you want.” Amy’s lips dropped into a pout. “Really?” she asked, clearly
THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 35: It Didn't Feel Cruel
Zayn stepped down the long marble stairs, his black shoes echoing lightly with each step. His expression was blank, unreadable as always. The mansion was already alive with motion—maids scurrying quietly, bodyguards stationed at every strategic corner. Each of them bowed respectfully as he passed. "Good morning, sir." "Morning, Master Zayn." But Zayn didn’t reply to any of them. His eyes were cold. The doors to the dining room were already opened by one of the guards before he got there. He stepped in with silent authority. Vera was already seated at the long dining table. She wore a satin robe, her makeup lightly done to appear effortlessly beautiful. The moment she saw him, she stood up with a bright smile. "Good morning, darling," she greeted warmly, walking over to pull out his chair. Zayn sat down without glancing at her. "Morning," he muttered, already pulling his sleek black tablet from the table. His eyes locked onto the screen, flicking through emails, files, and
THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 34: Don't Think About It
A pale orange light filtered through the thin curtains, casting faint lines across the small, cluttered room. The air was cool and silent except for the soft hum of a ceiling fan. Lucien’s eyes fluttered open slowly. For a moment, everything felt still—his mind blank, his body frozen. Then it all came rushing back. He gasped and sat up straight. His hand flew to his chest as his breathing picked up. His head ached. His body felt strange. But more than that, his memory was in flashes—strong arms, a heavy weight, the scent of alcohol and cologne, lips against his. “ Sir Zayn...” he whispered. Lucien looked down at the rumpled bed. The sheets were twisted, and warm. Zayn was no longer there. He touched his face, then ran a shaky hand through his messy hair. He slid off the bed and walked barefoot toward the small mirror on the wall. It was old, a little dusty at the edges, but it reflected enough. He tilted his head, brushing his fingers over his neck. There—just below his jaw—
THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR Chapter 33: Drugged or...?
Zayn’s polished shoes hit the stone driveway as Day opened the car door. He stepped out sluggishly, his fingers already pulling the dark tie from around his neck with slow, deliberate movements. The cool night air brushed over his skin, but it did little to steady the heat rising beneath it.He paused at the foot of the stairs, rolling his neck and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. His breath came a little heavier than usual, his vision swimming slightly as he blinked up at the mansion’s front doors. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. The drug was hitting harder than expected. Much harder. Day stepped forward cautiously. “Boss, do you need help—” Zayn silenced him with a lazy wave of his hand, his jaw clenched in defiance. “I’m fine.” But, he wasn’t.Each step up the staircase felt heavier than the last. Halfway, he stopped to grip the banister and regain his stance. His eyes narrowed as he muttered to himself, “Shit… this dose is
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