Chapter 4

"Asher did a great job. He's really going places," he'd said.

Then, almost immediately, he'd written in the family chat:

"We should let Logan help out on the project Asher just landed. It'll look great on his resume."

2020. 2021. 2022.

Year after year, I worked myself to the bone trying to prove I was worth something.

Year after year, my family bent over backward to make up for what Logan had lost.

They were compensating him for having no biological parents. For supposedly living under someone else's roof. For every hardship they imagined and every debt they felt they owed him.

And me?

I was the child who'd actually been kidnapped. The one who'd spent more than a decade growing up away from home. The one who'd needed them more than anyone.

Yet somehow, I was the child who never needed anything made up to him.

Because I'd been found.

Because I should be grateful.

Because I was their flesh and blood, and apparently that meant I was expected to endure anything.

But the latest project hurt worst of all.

The same project Dad had just announced was "always meant for Logan."

At the start of 2023, I spotted an opportunity to expand into the southeastern market. I spent six months researching it and wrote a three-hundred-page business plan.

The project got the green light that summer. My team and I pulled more all-nighters than I could count. By the end of the year, we'd secured the deal.

On the day it was finalized, Dad patted me on the shoulder.

"Asher. Well done."

I thought, finally, he'd seen what I'd accomplished.

But he'd only seen a prize he could hand to Logan. A stepping-stone for the son he actually valued.

The messages on the screen told the whole story.

Mom: "Logan, Asher's finished that big project. Come home next year and take it over. It'll be good experience for you."

Logan: "Really? But will Asher be okay with that?"

Mom: "It doesn't matter whether he's okay with it. This is a family decision, and we're the ones who make those."

Dad: "Listen to your mother. Just come home."

I read the exchange over and over, a chill spreading through me.

This was my family.

Now they were doing it again. Taking something I'd sacrificed everything to build and promising it to someone else as casually as if they were giving away a spare chair.

Something warm slid down my cheek.

I touched my face.

Tears.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Mom: "Asher, come out. We're family. Don't sulk over something so small."

A humorless laugh escaped me.

Of course they'd finished comforting Logan. The living room was probably cheerful again.

As for me, I'd get over it. I always did.

That was how they'd handled every disappointment for ten years.

I took screenshots of the entire conversation, saved them, and made backups.

Then I opened the study door.

The laughter in the living room died. Every head turned.

Logan sat beside Mom, eyes red as though he'd just finished crying.

Dad frowned when he saw me.

"There you are. Come sit down. And don't think a little success gives you the right to throw your weight around at home."

Mom shot him a warning look and beckoned me closer.

"Asher, come here. Logan's been so worried about you. He's afraid you're angry. Isn't that thoughtful of him?"

Nora kept scrolling through her phone without looking up.

Logan raised his head.

"Asher, I'm sorry. Today was supposed to be about you. Maybe we could get you another present instead..."

I smiled.

"Don't bother."

I looked at each of them in turn before meeting my parents' eyes.

"You won't need to celebrate anything for me again."

My voice was steady.

"Tomorrow I'll hand over my work at the company. After that, you can leave the business to the son you love most."