The Discarded Heir: A Self-Made Empire

not through the grand front entrance, bu

for in an old, forgotten stor

h birthday. Perhaps the only possession

eled i

e gate, a crowd of tabloid repo

microphones were

doing, n

eel to be kicked out by th

ar?" a particularly crass female reporter, known for her

ce was expr

ons, got on the old BMX

a few blocks, shouting ques

alleyways, the old bike surprisi

hing a little heavily, not from exertio

and imposing, silently pul

rear window

eautiful woman, her expre

Sophia Hayes, from the Hayes Corporation in New York, my g

d, momentar

ayes

dustry and philanthropy, operating o

reamed of making such connecti

shing a stray lock of

e my honor,

crolling through her phone,

égé Ethan Miller Stripped

awkwardly pedaling the rusty BMX bike away from the

as brutal, filled with

e video, her f

fined even in the poor-quality footage, th

room, saw what was on

very local rag and blogger was t

r eyes narrowed. "You

course! Now everyone knows he's a nobody

ase settled o

know how to ride a bike, Liam? A real o

not a loser like Ethan, besides, you know I

s blood

eyes scanning Ethan' s body, l

screen, muttered something about Ethan'

ushed out of the room and u

ched the bare closet

be his study, she found an old,

k as she flipp

ith time, of the three

or eleven, holding Liam'

r brightly colored beach towel, lookin

ages, stark white against his

ears, suddenly flooded ba

got caught in a rip current, pull

c. T

gh the waves, strong arms p

ck, his breath ragged

im crying out in pain when a large piece of driftw

, gasping for air, Liam was there beside h

e beach, being attended to by a lifegua

Liam, her voice shak

it second, then nodded, a heroic

the photo slippin

as E

lways be

o all these years. Another lie.