The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 153

The rain had stopped by the time Xan’s car pulled up to the Nethys family estate. The sky was still the color of a gloomy gray, and everything dripped. The house towered ahead, all sharp angles and glass, looking less like a home and more like a spaceship that had landed in the wrong neighborhood. Xan had been here a dozen times before, usually for the stiff awkward dinners with Kieran and where Elera sat silently at the far end of the table. Back then, he’d thought he was courting the daughter. Now he knew he’d been auditioning for the father.

He didn’t bother with the front door. He walked around to Kieran’s private study entrance, the one that opened onto the terrace. He knew Kieran would be in there at this hour, doing whatever monsters did in the mid–morning–counting their gold, stroking a white cat and plotting world domination. The usual.

The door was unlocked. Of course it was. Kieran Nethys didn’t fear burglars. He probably employed them.

Xan stepped inside. The study was exactly as he remembered: dark wood, leather that smelled of expensive polish, and walls lined with books that had probably never been read before. Kieran stood at the window, his back to the door and sipping something amber from a crystal glass.

“You’re letting the damp in,” Kieran said without turning around. His voice was smooth, amused. He’d known Xan was coming. He probably had cameras in the rose bushes.

“We need to talk,” Xan said. He didn’t bother with greetings.

“So I gathered from your rather dramatic phone call. ‘It’s over, Kieran. I now know everything‘ Very theatrical.” Kieran finally turned. He looked, as always, perfectly put together. Silver hair just so, suit was very flawless and his smile was as genuine as a three–dollar bill. “I assume this is about my daughter’s little stunt this morning? Feeding Sarah some fairy tale to try and turn her?”

“It’s not a fairy tale,” Xan said. He kept his voice flat, cold. He’d practiced this in the car. He would not yell. He would not show emotion. He would be an iceberg. “I saw the evidence. The traffic camera footage and Jennifer Martinez’s testimony. I know what you did.”

Kieran’s smile didn’t waver. He took another sip of his drink. “Do you, now? And what is it you think you know, Xan?”

“I know you were at that party. I know you drugged Sarah Lyros. I know you staged the accident, killed her parents, and framed her for it. I know you paid off witnesses and murdered a detective. I know everything.”

There was a long silence. Kieran studied him, his head tilted like a bird examining a worm. Then, to Xan’s fury, he laughed. It wasn’t a loud laugh. It was a soft, contemptuous chuckle that

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Chapter 153 A Winning Hand

made Xan’s hands curl into fists.

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Finished

“Oh, Xan,” Kieran said, shaking his head. “You sweet, naive boy. You think you’ve uncovered some great secret? You think you’re holding a winning hand?” He set his glass down on the desk with a precise click. “Let me show you what a winning hand actually looks like.”

He moved to a panel on the wall, tapped a code into a hidden keypad. A section of the bookshelf swung open silently. It wasn’t a safe, it was a small office nook, with a monitor and a keyboard. Kieran typed something, then gestured for Xan to come closer.

“Don’t be shy. Come see.”

Reluctantly, Xan stepped forward. On the monitor, there was a file directory. Kieran clicked open a folder labeled “Contingencies.” Inside were subfolders. One was labeled “Valdris.”

A cold finger of dread traced its way down Xan’s spine.

Kieran opened the folder. It was full of some scanned documents, photos, and bank statements. He opened the first one. It was a bank transfer, dated five years ago, from an offshore account in Xan’s name to an account listed under “J. Martinez.” The amount was one hundred thousand dollars.

“That’s fake,” Xan said immediately, but his voice sounded thin.

“Is it?” Kieran opened another. A series of emails, allegedly between Xan and a private investigator, discussing the “disappearance” of Jennifer Martinez. The language was cold and detached. Make sure she’s never found. Another document: a signed confession from a man Xan had never met, claiming Xan hired him to intimidate witnesses in the Lyros case.

“This is all fabricated,” Xan said, his heart hammering against his ribs. “You created this.”

“Of course I did,” Kieran said pleasantly. “Years ago. The moment you started snitling around Sarah, playing the white knight, I knew you might become a problem. Or an asset. So I built a leash. A very strong, very convincing leash.”

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The Heiress He Underestimated