All Chapters of The heir's mask : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Ken Thompson stood outside the gleaming glass towers of Vanderbilt Tech as the cold March wind sliced through his wool coat. Twelve months, two weeks, and four days. That was how long he had successfully avoided this meeting—so he could avoid him.Today, that streak ended. He had to show up.His lawyer, Marcus, shifted closer beside him. “You don’t have to go in there, you know. We can still stall and file for an injunction—”“No,” Ken quickly cut him off. “If I run now, they’ll paint me as weak. I just need to look him in the eye and tell him to go fuck himself in person. All his tricks end here.”Marcus didn’t argue. They both knew the numbers didn’t lie. Three more major clients had pulled out this week after “anonymous” warnings about Vanderbilt Tech’s aggressive expansion. Ken’s Aegis Shield was bleeding cash and talent. The noose was tightening, and everyone knew whose hand held the rope.In the elevator ride to the 62nd floor, Ken stared at his reflection in the mirrored walls

Flashes blinded Ken as Sophia stood frozen in the hallway with two reporters from Tech Insider and Bloomberg. Her eyes were wide, devastated, and furious, darting between Ken’s bruised knuckles and Steve’s split lip.“Ken,” she whispered, voice cracking. “What the hell is this?”Steve didn’t even care about the cameras. He stepped out of the elevator. “Ms. Reyes. It’s always a pleasure. Care to explain why you’re dragging my family’s company through the mud with some baseless accusations?”Ken shoved past Steve, positioning himself between him and Sophia. “This isn’t the time, Soph. What is going on?”One reporter moved in front of Ken, pointing a microphone forward. “Mr. Thompson, is it true you and Mr. Vanderbilt have a personal relationship that has now influenced the acquisition talks? And are the espionage claims connected to a lover’s quarrel?”Ken’s stomach dropped. “No comment.”Steve’s laugh was ice-cold. “Lover’s quarrel? How quaint. Mr. Thompson is a former friend who is cu

Ken Thompson slammed the door of his temporary office with force on the forty-second floor of Vanderbilt Tower so hard the glass rattled in its frame.As he dropped into the leather chair, loosening his tie, the acquisition papers were on his desk Vanderbilt Tech Full Integration Co. His startup, his goddamn company, had been swallowed whole. And Steve, the bastard, had made sure Ken sat through every meeting, forced to watch that cold smile.Ken’s phone rang. He ignored it. And then another, then a third. He snatched it up.It was an unknown number. New York area code.He almost declined. But something call it instinct, or the ghost of the man he used to be made him answer.“Ken?” The voice cracked on his name, soft and familiar. “It’s Sophia.”“Sophia,” he said in a low voice. “How did you get this number?”A shaky laugh on the other end. “I still have friends in the industry, you know me. And I… also needed to talk to you. In person, and it’s urgent. Please. And privately.”He shou

Ken stood outside the address Sophia had already texted him. The neighborhood was quiet, far removed from the glass-and-steel world of Vanderbilt Tower. Kids played on the sidewalk under the watchful eyes of parents. Normal life. The kind he once believed he wanted.His hand hesitated on the wrought-iron gate. As he knocked.Sophia opened the door almost immediately. She was very watchful. She wore a simple sweater and jeans, no trace of the polished woman he remembered themfrom their shared past. “You came,” she said softly. “I wasn’t sure.”“I said I would.” Ken stepped inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapping around him like an accusation. The place smelled of fresh bread and baby powder. Toys scattered across a worn rug. Real life, not the sterile luxury he’d grown used to.Mateo sat in a playpen near the window, stacking blocks with fierce concentration. Dark hair, curious eyes, and that unmistakable stubborn set to his jaw. Ken’s chest tightened so sharply he forgot how to b

Ken woke to the faint glow of dawn, his body aching in ways that went beyond muscle a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The sheets tangled around him carried Steve’s scent, a reminder of the night’s unraveling. He sat up slowly and noticed Steve was gone.Ken swung his legs over the edge, head pounding. Fragments of the confrontation replayed: Eleanor’s revelations about Sophia’s payments, Mark’s dossier of stolen intimacies, the raw clash that had followed. He had come here seeking answers, only to lose himself again in the very storm he needed to escape. Mateo’s face flashed in his mind the boy’s trusting reach, the word “Da” still echoing. What kind of father woke up in another man’s bed after learning he had a son?He dressed quickly, avoiding his reflection in the mirrored closet doors. The apartment felt too large, too sterile, a monument to everything Steve represented: control wrapped in luxury. Ken grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Missed calls from Sophia. A string of texts.