The Hidden Heir

"Harder. Come on, harder… Oh, yeah…"

"Quit moaning. Every time I give you a massage, you can't keep your voice down. Is your body really that sensitive?"

Andrew Pierce stood in front of the special iron bed, his face expressionless, though his eyes never left the figure twisting on the mattress.

"Oh, you know I can't help it. I've got sensitive skin."

The woman lying on the bed was Natalie Jenson. Her voice dripped with honey, and her eyes were locked onto Andrew's, sultry and teasing. Her red lips parted as she whispered between breaths.

"Your hands…mm… They're so strong. It feels amazing…and it makes my heart race!"

"Enough talking. Keep moving around like that, and I'll make you regret it."

Andrew gave a low snort. He flipped his palm and pressed his fingertips firmly into the soft flesh at her waist.

His hand was broad and hot. The moment he kneaded her side, Natalie let out a stifled moan.

"Harder, please? That's how I like it."

She had been locked up for three years, and every so often, she would come to Andrew for what she called a little "relief". At first, she thought his massages were too rough, as if he was about to break her bones. Over time, she discovered something addictive in his strength that made her tremble.

In this Blackforge Women's Prison, where the nights stretched long and empty, Andrew's hands were the only thing that gave her any thrill.

Andrew ignored her chatter, letting his palm glide up her spine until his fingertips pressed on a precise point at her shoulder.

Natalie shuddered as a small, breathless sound escaped her throat. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and strands of damp hair clung to her flushed face, making her look even more alluring.

"Don't move," he warned, but his hands didn't lighten.

When he pinched a pressure point at the back of her neck, half her body went weak instantly. She melted into the mattress, powerless.

"Your hands… It's like magic."

She panted, her voice half a tease, half a plea, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Your mouth's tougher than your body," Andrew said with a cold little laugh.

His hand slid to her lower back, pressing down just enough to make her arch like a cat whose weakness had been caught. She couldn't move, yet couldn't stop wanting to.

"Why don't you test it out yourself?" Natalie bit her lip, smiling wickedly.

Andrew raised a brow, his fingers working into her waist with just the right amount of force.

"Talk less, or I might not be so careful."

Natalie giggled, her voice as refreshing as a spring breeze. "Tell me the truth. Do you give these massages just to keep girls like me in line?"

She tilted her head, her eyes damp and her lips curving upward.

"That depends on whether you wanna get in line."

His tone was flat, but his hand pressed harder on her shoulder blade. Natalie immediately bit her lip, holding back another moan. Under his touch, she became completely obedient.

Andrew's gaze lingered on her face. She looked delicate, with perfect features and fair skin. If he hadn't read her file himself, no one would ever guess that under this fragile mask hid a heart as vicious as a viper's.

Natalie was infamous, known as the "Red Widow". A beautiful but ruthless assassin, her targets numbered too many to count.

And she wasn't the only dangerous woman locked up here. Every inmate in this prison had blood on her hands.

Andrew's thoughts drifted. Five years ago, he had been the son of the eldest heir of the powerful Pierces in Crestbrooke, so wealthy he could've paved the streets with gold.

Back then, he lived like a king and was surrounded by women, his life the envy of everyone. He had a fiancée, Hillary Schneider. She was known as Crestbrooke's most beautiful woman—stunning, with a figure everyone admired.

When they got engaged, the whole city envied Andrew for winning such a goddess.

But Hillary had a younger brother, William Schneider, a spoiled playboy who spent his days drinking and wasting money. One night, William got drunk and forced himself on a girl.

To protect the Schneiders' family name, Hillary went to Andrew, crying until her makeup smeared. She begged him to take the fall for William.

She swore that if he agreed, she would marry him the moment he was released.

Blinded by youth and Hillary's beauty, Andrew didn't even hesitate. He paid off the girl's family and turned himself in, thinking he'd only suffer a bit before coming back to marry her.

Instead, he was sent off to the freezing northern edge of Hestonia—to the Blackforge Women's Prison.

Two hours later, Andrew dusted off his hands. "Alright, get up."

Natalie stretched lazily before sitting up.

"Your techniques just keep getting better. My whole body feels lighter now."

She dressed slowly, tossed him a flirty smile, and swayed out of the room.

The door had barely closed when someone knocked again.

Andrew frowned. "Already? I said only one a day. That's the rule."

Thinking it was another inmate, he sighed in irritation and yanked the door open.

But it wasn't a prisoner.

Standing there was a stranger—an absolutely stunning woman. She was tall and dressed in a plain gray coat that fit perfectly at the waist, showing off her slender figure.

Her skin was pale, her features sharp, and her eyes cold and distant. She looked like a rare flower blooming alone on a mountain covered in snow.

Andrew paused, his hand still on the doorframe. "Who are you looking for?"

"You're Andrew?"

Her eyes flicked over him, and disappointment shadowed her face. She had hoped five years of prison would've humbled him, but clearly not.

Andrew scowled, giving her a once-over. "And you are…?"

She straightened her back, her voice steady. "I'm your sister-in-law, Diana. I came to take you out."

"Sister-in-law?" Andrew's brow furrowed.

His eldest brother should still be at war on the frontier. How could he possibly have married without Andrew hearing about it?

"No way. If my brother got married, someone would've told me." Andrew waved her off impatiently. "You must be a new inmate. Go change into uniform and get to work. Don't waste my time. You can't fool me with some cheap trick, so cut it out."

Diana's expression didn't waver as she said flatly, "Your brother's dead."

Andrew whipped around, eyes wide. "What did you just say?!"

"Didn't you ever read the letters the family sent you? Three years ago, George, Travis, and Lucas all died in battle. Their bodies were never recovered. Now, your grandfather is really ill. His only wish before he dies is to see you."

Andrew's chest rose and fell violently, his breathing sharp and uneven.

He stared at Diana, his mind spinning.

"N-No way." His voice cracked as he shook his head hard, his fingers pulling at his hair. "My brothers are war heroes, the backbone of Hestonia. They won't die so easily!"

Andrew stopped pacing and rushed up to Diana.

"I'll find out the truth myself!"

He stormed out of the room, heading straight for the prison guard's office.

He kicked the door so hard that it slammed against the wall with a bang.

The guards inside had been warming themselves by the fire and jumped in shock.

One scrambled to his feet, stammering, "M-Mr. Pierce, what's wrong?"

Andrew grabbed him by the collar. "Why the hell haven't I gotten a single letter in five years?"

The guard choked and waved his hands frantically.

"P-Please calm down! It wasn't us, it was the former warden's orders. She said you were training and couldn't be distracted, so she had us hold back all your mail!"