All Chapters of THE BOY WHO COULD BEAR AN HEIR : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Zayn stood in front of the tall mirror in his dressing room, fastening the sleek silver strap of his luxury watch. The timepiece, a rare Swiss design, shimmered under the warm lights of the room, its black dial reflecting power and elegance. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned his reflection. Sharp suit. Neatly combed hair. Perfect. Just the way he liked it. He slid his hand into his pocket as Day stepped inside the room, head bowed in the usual sign of respect. "Sir, it's been done," Day reported. Zayn gave a small nod and replied, “Good. Good.” He adjusted the cuff of his shirt, his voice calm but laced with finality. Day hesitated for a second before speaking again. “But, boss... don’t you think it’s time to reveal it? To send her away? Before things get worse?” Zayn’s gaze met Day’s in the mirror. “Keeping your enemies close is better than having them far,” he said smoothly. “When they’re near, you learn their habits, their weaknesses… you know when they strike. You see

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

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

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

~~~~ 1 Week Later~~~~~~ It had been a week since the incident, and Lucien had finally recovered, though Zayn still hadn’t permitted him to leave his room. During the entire week, Day had been the one delivering his medicine and soups, which Lucien absolutely despised. Each time Day entered, he brought with him a new threat if Lucien refused to drink the horrible-tasting concoction. “One more sip or I’ll call Zayn,” Day would say with a smirk. And that was usually enough to make Lucien gulp it down in one go. Still, Lucien remained confused. Zayn hadn’t shouted at him or punished him. it was just silence and medicine. To Lucien, that was a type of kindness he wasn’t used to. No one had ever treated him with such care before, even if it came in the form of bitter soup. Lucien sighed, lying back on the pillow. His mind drifted to someone he hadn't seen in days. Emily. He didn’t know what had happened to her. It was like she had vanished from the mansion. He had asked Ma Cla