The Heir's Vow

Name: The Heir's Vow
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Kenny Ohms

Fantasy | Ongoing

5.0

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When Tony Anderson returns to the estate he once called home, it's not to reclaim the billion-dollar family legacy- it's to destroy the man who stole everything from him: his own father. But with his inheritance comes more than cold marble halls and corporate dominance. It comes with Sandy Taylor- the woman he once loved, now engaged to his half-brother. As Tony uncovers the secrets buried deep in the Anderson dynasty, one truth becomes clear: he wasn't meant to be the heir... but he's the only one ruthless enough to carry the name.

Family Modern Fantasy Betrayal CEO Scheming Drama

Chapter 11 11

04-18 18:51

Chapter 1 1

"Return of the Exiled"

The heavy iron gates of the Anderson estate creaked open as the black Maserati eased its way down the long, gravel driveway. Tony Anderson stared ahead, his eyes cold and unreadable behind dark sunglasses, as the mansion slowly came into view-an architectural beast made of stone, steel, and old money.

Everything about this place reeked of privilege. Of power. Of betrayal.

He hadn't been here in ten years, not since his father- Harold Anderson, patriarch and business tycoon- exiled him from the family after a scandal Tony didn't commit. One whisper of embezzlement, one planted file, and Harold had turned his back on his own son without so much as a second glance.

But Tony had never forgotten. And he sure as hell hadn't forgiven.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of the mansion, stepping out with the poise of a man who didn't fear ghosts but hunted them. The past was no longer his cage- it was his weapon.

A butler stepped forward, clearly startled. "Mr. Anderson... we weren't expecting you."

Tony gave a half-smile. "No one ever expects a storm until it's already overhead."

Without waiting for permission, he walked past the man and into the house.

The scent hit him first-lavender, polished oak, and the subtle burn of expensive whiskey. The grand chandelier glimmered above him, casting fractured light across the marbled floor. Every inch of the place screamed of the success he had been denied.

Then came the voice that made his jaw clench.

"Well, well. Look who finally crawled out of whatever hole he disappeared into."

Tony turned slowly. His half-brother, Jason, stood at the base of the staircase in a tailored navy suit, arms crossed and smirk polished to perfection.

"Still playing Daddy's favorite, I see," Tony said coolly.

Jason descended the steps, unbothered. "Still bitter, Tony? I thought you were off trying to find yourself or something equally cliché."

Tony stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I didn't come back to reminisce. I came for answers."

Jason tilted his head. "Answers? About what?"

"You know damn well what," Tony hissed. "The file. The setup. Why I was thrown out like garbage while you took my place."

Jason didn't flinch. "Prove it, little brother. Otherwise, you're just the disgraced heir crashing a party he was never invited to."

Before Tony could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Tony?"

He froze.

He'd recognize that voice in any storm, across any distance. It hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Sandy Taylor stood just inside the hallway, her lips slightly parted in surprise, her dark green eyes wide as they met his.

Time slowed.

She was still stunning-if not more than before. Her auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, her fitted cream dress clinging to her figure like it was made for her alone. But what struck Tony most wasn't her beauty. It was the gold engagement ring on her left hand.

Jason's fiancée.

His former love.

She stepped forward slowly, her voice barely a whisper. "You're back..."

Tony's heart twisted. "You're engaged to him?"

Sandy blinked, looking between the two men. "I... I didn't know you were coming back."

"That much is obvious," Tony said, bitterness sharpening his tone. "Guess I missed the save-the-date."

Jason chuckled from the side. "You left her, remember? Maybe she finally moved on."

Tony didn't take his eyes off Sandy. "I never left her. I was pushed out of her life."

The air crackled with unfinished words and unshed emotions. Sandy looked like she wanted to say something-anything-but instead, she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Jason clapped Tony on the shoulder with mock sympathy. "Tough luck. But hey-if you're staying, you'll have a front-row seat to the wedding. That's something, right?"

Tony stepped back, brushing off the contact like it burned. "Don't get too comfortable, Jason. I'm not here to watch. I'm here to reclaim what's mine."

Jason's smile faded.

And Tony walked away.

Later that night

Tony stood in his old room, the one they hadn't bothered to change. Dust clung to the edges, but everything else remained untouched-his books, his desk, the photos that once meant something.

He opened the top drawer and found the old silver key taped beneath it. The key to his father's study.

He slipped it into his pocket.

This wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about truth. He would uncover every rotten secret this family tried to bury-every lie, every betrayal.

And if it led him back to Sandy?

Well, that was a complication he'd deal with when the time came. But deep down, even he couldn't deny the truth: He hadn't just come back to destroy the empire. A part of him still wanted to belong to it- with her.

The mansion had grown quieter by the hour. After the initial shock of Tony's return, the estate settled into an uneasy calm- like a house that knew a storm had just crossed its threshold but hadn't figured out where the lightning would strike.

Tony stood alone on the balcony of his old room, staring out into the dark horizon. The garden below still bore the same layout he remembered- roses his mother once cared for blooming under the moonlight, untouched by time. But that was the problem with places like this: the world kept turning, people kept changing, but the past? It never truly died.

A soft knock broke his thoughts.

He turned. The door creaked open, revealing Sandy, standing hesitantly at the threshold.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me," she said softly.

Tony leaned back against the railing. "I didn't think you'd want to come."

She stepped in, closing the door behind her. "You look... different."

"So do you." He glanced at her hand-the diamond still there, glinting under the chandelier's dim light. "Guess congratulations are in order."

She followed his gaze and sighed. "It's... complicated."

"That's funny," Tony said with a hollow laugh. "So was us. But we didn't get to call it 'complicated.' It was just over."

"I waited for you," Sandy said, voice trembling. "For a year. You disappeared. No calls. No letters. You left me in the middle of a war you never explained."

"I was forced out, Sandy," he said, pushing off the railing. "I was set up, and my father made it very clear I was no longer welcome. If I stayed, it would've destroyed me-and maybe you too."

"You should have told me."

"I wanted to protect you."

"And instead," she whispered, "you abandoned me."

Silence pressed between them. The years apart had sharpened the distance into something razor-thin and dangerous. So many things unsaid. So many nights lost.

Tony walked closer, lowering his voice. "Are you in love with him?"

She looked up at him, tears brimming but not falling. "I'm supposed to be."

His heart cracked at that. "But you're not."

"I don't know," she admitted, folding her arms tightly over her chest. "Jason was there when everything fell apart. He was... safe. Predictable. And I was broken."

"He doesn't love you, Sandy. Not the way I did. Not the way I still do."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the years vanished. The fire between them flickered-dangerous, familiar, undeniable.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered, backing toward the door.

Tony didn't stop her. He couldn't. If he reached for her now, it would be more than a reunion-it would be betrayal. Of his brother. Of everything she'd tried to rebuild.

But before she slipped out, she turned back, just once.

"I want to believe you, Tony. But if you really were set up... prove it. Before it's too late."

Midnight – Anderson Estate Study

The key still fit.

Tony stepped into Harold Anderson's study with quiet precision, closing the door behind him. The room smelled of cedar, scotch, and secrets. Books lined the walls, but Tony went straight to the antique desk.

He remembered the floorboard-the second one near the left bookshelf. He pried it up with a penknife, revealing a false compartment beneath.

Inside: a sealed folder marked Anderson Holdings: Internal Audit 2015.

The year everything fell apart.

He opened it, hands steady. There were receipts, emails, a list of offshore transfers-none under his name. All signed by Jason.

His jaw clenched.

So he'd been right. Jason had set him up. Taken his name, his position, and eventually-his girl.

Tony barely heard the footsteps outside the door before it opened.

Harold Anderson stood in the doorway, older now but still imposing.

"I wondered when you'd find that," he said calmly.

Tony stared him down. "You knew. You let him do it."

Harold walked in, closing the door. "I did what I had to. The board was circling like sharks. Jason was controllable. You weren't."

"I was your son."