All Chapters of HEIR OF PAIN: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Arden immediately entered his room as he sat on his bed, breathing fast from running up the stairs. What is Xavier doing here? Why is he here? How did he get here? Arden thought as he stood up and started walking to and fro. Is he… is he here to take me? Is he negotiating with Ryder to take me away? Yes, that can be true. Ryder might want to sell me the same way my uncle did. Arden’s thoughts kept running endlessly as he walked back and forth across the room. His chest tightened, his palms sweating. Then, there was a knock on the door. “Arden?” Arden looked toward the door. It was Ryder’s voice. His heart skipped a beat. Ryder had never knocked on his door before. Maybe he’s here to take me, Arden thought as he shifted back in fear. Outside, Ryder waited for a response, but none came. He frowned as he turned the knob, and entered the room. When he stepped in, his eyes widened a little. Arden stood by the wall, pale-faced, breathing fast. His eyes were filled with

Arden woke up the next morning with a smile on his face. For the first time in a while, he felt calm—like the weight that had been pressing down on him had somehow lifted overnight. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned quietly before stepping out of bed. The cold marble floor touched his bare feet, and he shivered a little, but it was a refreshing kind of chill. With that same faint smile still on his lips, he headed straight to the bathroom. The water ran over him as he stood under the shower, warm and soothing. He couldn’t help but think about last night—the library. That breathtaking, unexpected gift Ryder had given him. Even now, the memory made his chest feel strangely full. A room filled with shelves of law books, journals, and texts he had only ever seen locked behind the university’s glass cases. And Ryder had called it his. His own library. Arden smiled again, shaking his head as water dripped down his face. Ryder Black was confusing. Cold one moment, unpredict

The car finally slowed as they approached the party venue. It was a massive glass building glowing with warm lights. Dozens of luxury cars lined the driveway, and the sound of faint music could be heard even from outside. Arden looked through the window and his eyes widened. “It’s… beautiful,” he whispered. As the car stopped, Corner stepped out and opened the door for them. Ryder got out first, then turned and offered his hand to Arden. Arden hesitated, staring at the hand for a second and then, slowly, he placed his hand in Ryder’s. Ryder’s grip was warm, firm but careful. He helped Arden out of the car, his eyes not leaving him even for a moment. Flashes from cameras and murmurs from people nearby filled the air. Arden immediately grew self-conscious. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Ryder noticed and leaned closer. “Don’t worry. Just walk with me." Arden nodded, his heart racing. As they both entered, all attention was on them. Arden could feel every pair of

Arden stirred a little as a faint beam of sunlight crept through the curtains, brushing across his face. His eyelids fluttered open, heavy and dry. He squinted against the light, blinking slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. The first thing he saw made his heart stop. Right before him, inches away, sleeping peacefully… was Ryder. For a second, Arden froze. His eyes widened as confusion settled in. Wait… what? His mind raced. Am I dreaming? Did I—did we—? He blinked again, rapidly this time, hoping that Ryder’s face would vanish and he’d wake up properly in his own bed. But it didn’t. Ryder was right there. Real. Breathing. And dangerously close. Arden’s breath hitched when he realized something else—Ryder wasn’t just beside him. He was holding him. Ryder’s arm was draped firmly around Arden’s waist, his body pressed lightly against his back. Their legs were tangled under the blanket, and Arden could feel the steady rhythm of Ryder’s heartbeat against his shoulder. For a br

“Why isn’t my husband awake? Huh? You said the surgery was successful — are you even sure about that? Because if it is, my husband would be awake!” Ryan half-yelled, his voice trembling with anger and exhaustion. He’d been holding it in for too long. The fear, the sleepless nights, the helpless waiting — it all came out in that one outburst. The doctor gulped nervously, adjusting his glasses. “Calm down, Mr. Ryan,” he said carefully. “The surgery was successful. If it wasn’t, Mr. Asher wouldn’t be breathing.” Ryan froze, his eyes narrowing. That glare made the doctor’s words stumble in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again, choosing his words wisely. “Waking up solely depends on the patient. His body is recovering, but his consciousness... it takes time. You can help by talking to him. Sometimes hearing a loved one’s voice helps patients find their way back.” Ryan stared at him for a moment, then sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair. He raked his fingers t