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Chapter 5

Author: Shakirah
last update publish date: 2026-08-01 15:04:01

The returned Heir

Laird’s gaze flickered sideways. Alastair’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“…That’s partly why I’m here.”

Hero leaned back, “Soooo…” he exhaled slowly, “does she not remember you.”

“It’s not that simple,” Alastair bit.

Laird hummed low and deep. “It most certainly never is with you.”

Before Alastair could respond, the door opened again—but this time more carefully.

Mrs. Sinclair returned with a tray, placing it down with practiced precision. Tea, coffee, and a bunch of pastries filled the space between them like a quiet ceasefire.

Pouring him a steaming cup of hot chocolate, she glanced at him. “With marshmallows I presume.”

Alastair smiled wide, “why of course. Can’t have it any other way.”

“You know,” she added casually, “word travels fast in this city. Faster when it involves you.”

Alastair met her gaze. “I noticed.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Then you’ll also know she’s not how you remember her.”

The room went still, Hero stopped mid-reach for another piece of pecan pie.

Laird’s expression sharpened. “You mean...”

Mrs. Sinclair nodded once. “Miss Beaumont hasn’t been the same for quite a while.”

The name didn’t need explaining. Alastair didn’t move. But something in the air around him changed—like that moment where a storm decided whether it would break through a city or pass.

“…interesting,” he says quietly.

Hero blinked. “That’s your reaction?”

Alastair turned from the window, voice calm. Too calm. “It means the banquet just became interesting.”

***

That evening, just as they had all agreed, they met up in front of Alastair’s mansion. Dressed to impress in pristine suits, the three men looked like moving temptations, if sin got a glimpse of them now, it’d tip its hat at the worthy rivals that became them.

“You two clean up nicely. Best get going.” Alastair acknowledged.

“Can’t pass on an opportunity at re-introducing you to society. What would dear old grandpa say?” Hero joked.

Love story (Version Orchestrale) by Indila blasted through the night, Alastair casually reached for his phone.

“Is that… ouuuuu someone never forgets.” Hero teased.

“It would appear so.” Laird smirked.

“The man himself.” Alastair said, excusing himself and picking up the call. “Good evening grandfather.”

“Altair dear boy…” the voices faded in the background as Alastair walked further away from his friends.

The two shared a knowing look, then stared at his retreating figure with matching amused expressions.

A few minutes later, Alastair came back to find his two friends looking like over heated kettles about to explode.

“Fine, out with it you lot.”

“We didn’t say anything.” Laird’s smooth monotone voice cut in.

Hero smiled cheekily. “Nice ringtone by the way. Didn’t take you as one for sentiments.”

Alastair sighed deeply. “Now you know.” Clearing his throat, he added. “That was grandfather, he wanted to know if we’d arrived already. Apparently, he has something to tell me once I arrive there.”

This time round, none of the two spoke up. Hero looked away, Laird’s face became devoid of any emotion as he stared at the concrete in concentration.

Alastair noticed this, knowing the two of them for as long as he had. He immediately deduced that something was up. Instead of a confrontation, he decided to give it time. After all, whatever it was he’d know eventually.

“I believe we best be on our way. I’ll ring up Elliot to bring the car around.”

“Please, you just got back. Allow me.” Laird offered, picking up his cell, and dialing Elliot’s ringer.

Beep. Beep. “Hello, Elliot speaking.”

“Elliot. It’s Laird. We’re ready.”

“I’ll be right there sir.”

Ten minutes later, the three were seated comfortably in the back of a limo as they’re taken to their destination.

“Good to see you Elliot.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, welcome back. I missed you, sir.”

“Missed you too Elliot. Keep up the good work.”

“Will do.”

The car ride was quiet as Alastair took in the view of his home town. While Hero and Laird pondered about what his reaction would be to the news—rather the announcement his father had set up for him.

Alastair’s mind drifted into carrying out his plans. The whole reason he came back here wasn’t just because he had to, no. He had unfinished business, and unfortunately for him it involved someone who was once dear to him. Actually, still is because nobody could ever change that, not even her. Or so he thought.

“We’re here.” Elliot announced, bringing the three of men back to reality.

The three of them stepped out, walking towards the entrance where they each presented their invitations. After all, the party was invite only.

“Quite the number here.” Alastair noted. “Lucky for me, none of them seem to recognize me.” He chuckles.

“You might be right there, but that doesn’t stop all the staring we’re getting.” Hero said, winking at a couple of ladies smiling their way.

Laird noticed Alastair looking around. “You seem to be looking for something. Or should I say someone.”

“Hmm, just… observing.”

“Yeah, right. She’s not yet here. Besides who’s to say—“

“Hold that thought.” Alastair reached for his vibrating phone. “Grandfather. Excuse me, you two.”

Hero sighed softly. “He’ll know soon enough I suppose.”

“Hush.” Laird muttered.

“Members of the elite” the announcer proclaimed smoothly into the microphone, “please welcome our very own Mr. Gabriell Keller.”

And in that moment, a man presumed to be Keller walked into the room. Miss Beaumont, latched onto his arm like a leech.

Alastair returned, his face devoid of any emotion as he watched the couple walk in. Or, to be more specific— the woman his father had set up an engagement with. The very miss Beaumont he’d never stopped loving.

But he knew better than to think that she was the same woman he met years ago. After all, his intellect wasn’t a myth.

The three men watched the crowd, they watched as the scene unraveled right at the tip of their noses.

“Seems Gabriel Keller plays with more than just business deals.” Laird commented just as the woman dressed in black faced what they presumed was a humiliation of a lifetime.

“I need air.” With that, Alastair strode out of the banquet hall.

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