Heir Of Atticus Novels & Stories

Heather responds, trying to hide how nervous she is. Heather cannot believe she is standing in front of Liam Sullivan. She is staring into the eyes of the man who killed her mother and this time she doesn't have Casey beside her. It is sickening to be face-to-face with this man. All Heather wants to do is scream that she knows who he really is and she is going to make him pay for his crimes. She can't. She has to smile and be polite and pretend it is not destroying her.

She was not well acquitted' with her. The dogs were allowed to go where they wanted and they entered the house and went straight up the stairs and kept hitting the attic door. It had not occured to them to check the attic because they felt that no one would go there. Sharon'S heart started pounding with anticipation. She was sure she was about to see her daughter. She imagined how she was going to hug her and give her anything she requested.

First was the Strong Mode, where he would be cold to anyone and appear very busy with various things so that no one would dare to disturb him. The second was the Calm Mode, where he would show a different side of himself, caring, affectionate, and affectionate only to certain people. Until now, Theodor had always used this Calm Mode only in front of his mother. He never used it in front of anyone, including his father. Since Theodor was a child, he had been educated quite harshly because his grandfather always said that Burg Corporation would fall into his hands one day. As the heir, he had to have a firm, authoritative, and arrogant attitude to maintain Burg Corporation in the long run.

The notary's finger hovered above the keyboard for a moment. "Mrs. Fuzio." He adjusted his glasses, not daring to look straight at me. "The heir next in line needs to be present to confirm his intentions." I was confused. Christian Fuzio was an only child. His parents passed away ten years ago. We were married for 20 years with no children. "What did you say?" Before the notary could reply, the doors opened. When the boy walked in, I didn't even react. That was, until I saw his face.

As soon as the heir saw the clock his face changed to surprise. —I am late! — He says already running to the door without glazing back. Plan worked. Now I finally can have some peace. I sit on my chair, relaxing all the muscles in my body. Now it is exhausting for me to simply think of the heir's voice. What a trouble boy! — The food is cold, do you want me to reheat it? — Asks Naukar without any formalities, as we were close friends like she and the heir. Well, I am too tired to overthink it now.

“Please. I need to know she’ll be okay.” After a moment, they nodded, and I climbed into the back, sitting quietly in the corner. As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, I kept my eyes on her. There was something about her—a deep sadness, a kind of pain that went beyond the bruises. It stirred something in me, something I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t know her name or her story, but I knew one thing: I couldn’t just leave her. Eugene’s POV

--- She thought often about what it meant to be an heir. Not just of land—though the documents were finally settled, the valley legally hers, passed down from Tata Pedro to his grandchildren and their children after them. But of something deeper. A way of seeing the world. A stubborn, unshakeable belief that the land could heal if people gave it a chance. Tata Pedro had not left her money or property or stocks. He had left her a mission. And she had carried it forward, not because she was special, but because she had refused to let it go.

And there he is in full form. Atticus He's tall like me, wearing what looks like an old fashioned suit. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was in costume. I can barely believe my eyes and shake my head, hoping this isn't real. "Perhaps I should have taken care of you when I had the chance." His indignant tone hits me square in the face, pulling me out of my disbelief. "Let her go!" I shout, looking directly into his eyes, ready to pounce.

Alpha Jacobs says, jumping in front of him, looking the most concerned. "Healers, get Atticus to medical. Atticus, if we had known you were under orders, you wouldn't have been whipped. We thought you had done this of your own free will," Dad says as he too moves closer to Atticus's now panting form. "Don't feel bad, Thurman. He made sure I was uneducated for a reason. He made me a brute instead of a scholar, so I didn't know his tricks could be broken. Stop fretting like an old woman. I am used to it. Pain is all I know," Atticus tries to joke, and I see Karina flinch again.

He boomed. “Sorry dad,” He drawled out tiredly, his tone and the slight slur on his tongue indicating that he was drunk. “I had much more important things to attend to.” Atticus was the black sheep of the Hemmingway family, stubborn just like his father, if not more. You see, the young man had no interest in being alpha or in leading the Bloomindale Valley Pack. All Atticus wanted to do was paint, and he had tried everything to get his father to understand, but the old man just didn’t want to get it.