Brutal Heir Novels & Stories

Brad knew that Malova set up the meeting between his father, Newell, and the Viper Queens’ direct successor, Scarlet, before Kaze. Grimacing at the sound of Brad’s cries, Malova elbowed her way through the crowd. She scowled when she saw Brad in a state of blood and grime. “What happened to you, Brad? “Who hit you? “Who has the audacity to hit my family?” Malova exploded in rage. Brad was the sole heir to the Ettinger lineage.

A murmur rippled through the hall, some heads nodding, others still tight with disapproval. Then a voice answered towards the back. “Yet, the heir is a bastard.” I didn’t even see who’d spoken. My vision narrowed to a point of pure, blinding fury, my chair scraping back hard enough to gouge the floor as I stood. “Say that again. I dare you. Say it again, and I will cut your tongue out of your fucking mouth and feed it to you before you bleed out.” I searched the hall, waiting for anyone… anyone at all to dare utter another word.

The evening had settled into the quiet Vargr preferred. He sat in the chair by the window with a glass of wine he hadn't touched, one hand resting on the arm, his eyes on the mountain line where the last of the light was leaving. The compound was running. The program was running. The working held as it would continue to hold until the heir arrived and completed what had taken 153 years to build. The heir. He was certain of it — a son, born of the original line, the last piece of what that night in the ash had set in motion. He had been patient. He could be patient a little longer.

But the heir’s stare was steady, unyielding. “My mother was of the Shadowblood line,” he said at last. “I inherited… this.” He gestured vaguely to the darkness curling at his boots. “I didn’t know what it meant until the Creed found me.” “And now?” she asked. “Now I know they’ll never stop coming.” A knock at the door broke the moment. One of the scouts stepped in, snow melting from his cloak. “My lady. You need to hear this.” The heir straightened. “Speak.”

He holds my gaze and challenges every reason my brain comes up with that he’s here with me tonight for any reason other than he wants to be with me. “So, you’re not a choice of successor. You’re an heir,” he says slowly, as if trying to comprehend what I’m saying. “I’m not just AN heir, Benedict. I’m THE heir,” I say quietly. “What do you mean?” “When my grandfather met my grandmother, his fated mate, he didn’t accept her. He didn't realize that she had Alpha blood. You know how second sons become Betas and second sons of Betas become Gammas, etc?” I ask.

He'd win anyways. " I won't work on this plan until I get a full proof plan to survive, of coarse after winning. I don't want my fruit to be passed to my cousin, Brandon or someone else." I say after debating with myself. "There's no war ever fought without a sacrifice, Hunter. You may rule this empire after you defeat the Inferno Morto, the organization sitting on the apex of this mafia world for decades." He stands up from his chair and rounds his way to the mini bar. Pouring himself a glass of neat gin, he tilts his head to pass me a wary look," In case, you die fighting for this power game, I want you to make sure you leave an heir behind you, a male heir, who has to continue our bloodli

I read Sage's notes cover to cover twice before Cassidy came to collect me. The journal was full of cramped handwriting, sketches of ancient symbols, and highlighted passages about Blood Heir abilities. Some of it was fascinating. Most of it was terrifying. Apparently, a fully awakened Blood Heir could not only absorb abilities but also memories, emotions, even fragments of personality. The strongest Blood Heirs in history had been able to command other wolves simply by understanding them completely—knowing their fears, their desires, their weaknesses.

He found himself staring, trying to calculate exactly what kind of lethal creature was hiding behind the ash and how magnificent that silver bloodline truly was. People treated the heir of the Adebayo Dominion like an unyielding monument of stone and terror. But beneath the mafia empire and the blood treaties, he was an apex male who respected raw power and a mate who could match his bite. By some twist of the ancestors, the rogue forced upon him might be the exact challenge he had been searching for.

Grandma asked "There's no even need for that. The first and last one are quite easy but the second one is going to be a bit difficult so if you can pass the other two stages and meet the exact requirement, you'll automatically become the heir or heiress. The person with the highest profit wins and it must be two companies" she added "So..... Who are we starting with? Since we have only one male here, starting with him won't be a bad idea. John Campbell, step forward with your ledgers" Grandma said and I heaved a sigh of relief

"That's not fair. My mother's opinion doesn't count as mine." He smirked. "Life's not fair, Sweetcheeks. Fair's for idiots who believe in happily ever after and the poor fuckwits who actually get fooled into thinking that a spoiled brat who's never known what it means to live in terror every single fucking day of their childhood, could actually deign to love a bastard from the streets. You know who would be perfect for you? That little shit....Tom....Ted....Todd? Fuck his name, just fucking go and play the perfect little heiress and get the hell out of my apartment!"