All Chapters of HEIR OF PAIN: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The couple lay on the bed, pressed close against each other. Ryan’s arm was wrapped around Asher, holding him gently, while Asher rested his head against Ryan’s chest. Their bodies fit together as they had done this a thousand times, and tonight, the closeness felt heavier, filled with unspoken worries. Asher shifted slightly, resting his hand over Ryan’s, feeling the warmth and steadiness in it. Ryan tilted his head, watching Asher’s profile as he inhaled a slow breath. “We’ll be going to the hospital tomorrow,” he said softly, almost as if saying it out loud made it more real. Asher didn’t respond at first. He simply nuzzled a little closer, pressing his cheek against Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan’s thumb traced gentle circles on the back of Asher’s hand. “Asher,” Ryan murmured, his voice low and soft, “are you listening to me?” A small sound escaped Asher, barely a whisper, but he tightened his hold on Ryan’s arm, as though seeking reassurance from the simple presence. “Yeah… I kno

It was already night, and the Black Mansion was silent. Only one person moved inside that silence—Arden. He had decided. Tonight, he would leave. No second thought, no more waiting. He rose from the chair by the window where he had been sitting for hours. His heart beat fast as he looked at the door. His hands trembled slightly while he reached for the handle. Slowly, he turned it, opening the door just enough to look into the hallway. The corridor was dim. He looked left, then right. A guard was walking toward him from the far end. Arden’s breath caught; he shut the door quickly and pressed his back against it. The sound of the guard’s steps passed, then faded. He waited until he could no longer hear them. Only then did he open the door again and step out. He moved lightly, careful not to make a sound, his eyes darting toward every corner. When he reached the stairs, he gripped the railing and went down slowly. His mind raced. Almost there… just reach the main door. He co

That incident in the kitchen didn’t stop Arden from playing mischief against Ryder. If anything, it only gave him more courage. He had realized one simple truth—nothing irritated Ryder more than disorder. And that, to Arden, was an open invitation. It all began one quiet evening during dinner. The house had fallen into its usual rhythm—maids walking briskly, the sound of plates clattering softly, and the faint aroma of coffee drifting through the hall. Ryder had specifically requested his coffee to be served and placed on the table before he arrived. Arden walked into the dining room first. The table was already set, the lights warm and soft, and there it was—Ryder’s precious coffee, sitting perfectly where he always sat. The rich, dark liquid steamed faintly, and the smell filled the air. Arden stopped in front of it and tilted his head. “Coffee,” he murmured, stepping closer. “He can’t even drink water without style.” Curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the mug and

After that incident, Arden didn’t seem to be tired. Instead, he played even more tricks on Ryder — swapping his black suit for a pink one, adding salt to his morning tea instead of sugar, and once even setting the mansion’s intercom to play loud classical music right at 6 a.m. every morning. But strangely, Ryder still didn’t throw him out of the mansion. He ignored him most times, acted as if Arden’s childish mischief was nothing but the sound of a fly buzzing around his ear. At first, Arden thought Ryder was planning something — maybe waiting for the perfect time to punish him. But days passed, then weeks. Nothing happened. Ryder stayed calm, cold, and quiet. It almost became frustrating. ~~~~~~~~~~ Ryder sat behind his mahogany desk, scrolling through the tablet in his hand. His sharp eyes moved across lines of text as he read through the morning reports and the latest emails from his business partners. A knock came. “Come in,” Ryder said without looking up. The door

Ever since then, Arden had become the shadow of himself. He no longer came out of his room. Whenever he was called for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, he would refuse blankly, saying he would eat in his room. Days rolled into weeks, and it felt as if time itself had forgotten him. He didn’t bake anymore—no more cookies filling the mansion with that warm, sweet scent that everyone loved. Not even Asher’s gentle teasing could pull him out of his silence. In fact, for the past two weeks, Ryder hadn’t seen him at all. If not for Asher checking up on him and reporting to his mother, Ryder would have doubted that Arden was still inside the Black Mansion. Arden sighed as he rolled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were tired—his mind, heavier than ever. He sat up slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. He couldn’t keep living like this. “I can’t just stay in this room forever.” he murmured to himself. Maybe it was time again to request to go back to university. Even