All Chapters of THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter One: The Ghost TwinThe halls of the Ainsworth Estate were silent that morning, suffocating and grand. Sunlight bled through the stained-glass windows, scattering red and gold across the polished marble floor, but not even beauty could warm a house built on cruelty.Lucien sat alone at the long dining table, his back straight, his hands folded neatly in his lap. There was no breakfast before him, not even tea. He wasn’t allowed to eat until the others had finished. That was the rule.He was seventeen, slender, pale, with eyes the color of ash after a fire. His dark hair curled just slightly around his ears, uncombed this morning because the maid had forgotten him again. Or maybe she'd been told to.His twin brother, Cassian, had already eaten and gone. Lucien had heard him in the hallway earlier, laughing with their father. The same man who hadn’t spoken a kind word to Lucien in years.The silence in the room grew heavy, almost mocking.Footsteps. Lucien didn’t turn his head.

Chapter Three: The Uninvited Flame The sun had begun its slow descent behind the hills when the housekeepers started lighting candles around the ballroom. Gold sconces shimmered on the walls, tall arrangements of lilies and blue roses sat on each long table, and a polished string quartet rehearsed quietly in the corner. Lucien stood just beyond the double doors, wearing a black waistcoat that had once belonged to Cassian. It fit a little loose at the shoulders, and the sleeves itched, but it was the only thing decent enough that hadn’t been locked away from him. He didn’t belong here. Not among the guests arriving in sleek cars and glittering gowns. Not in a party hosted by a man who couldn’t even say his name without venom in his voice. And yet — here he was. Just another shadow in the corner of a grand celebration. He watched Cassian greet guests with his usual charm, moving easily through the crowd. He looked every bit the perfect heir, flashing the smile their father adored. B

Chapter Five: The Exchange The Ainsworth estate was quiet when the black convoy arrived. Five vehicles. Tinted. Silent. They parked with military precision on the gravel driveway. The air shifted. Every servant watching from behind curtains knew exactly who had come. Zayn Kingsley. The name alone brought tension. Fear. Power. Gerard Ainsworth stood waiting on the front steps, dressed in a gray suit and black gloves. His smile was thin. Controlled. As Zayn stepped out of the first car, the men behind Gerard stiffened. Zayn didn’t glance at them. He looked up at the house, expression unreadable. A young guard opened the door for him, and he entered without a word. Inside the drawing room, Gerard waited. The doors closed. Zayn took the seat opposite him. No handshake. No courtesy. “I appreciate you coming,” Gerard said. “I didn’t come for pleasantries.” Zayn’s voice was calm. “I came for the one who hurt my sister.” “Of course. And you will have him. But allow me to explain

Chapter 7: The Wrath of a King Screams echoed through the underground chamber. Raw, desperate screams. A man begged for his life, voice cracking as he sobbed, chained and helpless in the center of the dimly lit room. Zayn Kingsley sat on a black leather sofa at the far end of the room. A single low-hanging bulb swung slightly above him, casting flickering shadows across his face. He twirled a glass of red wine in his hand, the deep crimson liquid catching the light. His expression was blank, but his jaw was clenched tight. Rage sat heavy on his features. All around the room, instruments of torment lined the walls. A long iron rack held everything from whips with metal studs, bolt cutters, chains with hooks, to scalpels, syringes, fire pokers, a branding iron, and a car battery hooked up with jumper cables. There were more—some ancient, some modern—all capable of doing one thing: pain. The chained man—bare-chested, soaked in sweat and fear—was kneeling in the center of the room. Hi

Chapter 9: Traumatized It was dark. Too dark. Lucien stood in the middle of a cold room, his bare feet pressing against hard tiles. The air felt heavy, like something was sitting on his chest. His shirt was thin. His arms were shaking. He looked around. He knew this place.The old wallpaper. The broken light.The smell of smoke. It was home. But not the good kind nor the safe kind. it's was the kind filled with pain. Then, the door opened slowly with a creaking sound. Lucien took a step back. Heavy boots hit the floor. One step at a time. And then— "Lucien." The voice was deep. Strong. It was his father’s voice. But when Lucien turned around, it wasn’t his father standing in the doorway. It was Zayn. Lucien’s eyes widened. His lips parted. "Z-Zayn?"Zayn stepped closer. His face was hard, full of hate. In his hand was a thick leather belt—wrapped and tight. "You thought you could lie to me?" Zayn said in a cold, sharp voice. Lucien shook his head quickly