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The Heir And The Servent Started From A Bet novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Alex sat at his desk, flipping through a stack of files he couldn’t care less about.

He was in his office-large, sleek, and filled with the best furniture money could buy-felt more like a waiting room than a workspace.

He barely used it. He only came in when it’s absolutely necessary, like today, when an important meeting had forced him into the building.

Most days, he didn’t bother showing up at all.

His father hated that.

Charles Blackwell never failed to remind him how irresponsible it was, how he was wasting his potential, how he should be at the company every single day.

Nag, nag, nag.

Alex had stopped listening a long time ago.

It wasn’t that he hated the job itself. He could do it in his sleep if he wanted to. The problem was him.

His father.

The man suffocated every space he occupied.

And Alex? He had no interest in sharing the same air, let alone the same building, with Charles Blackwell for longer than

necessary.

Maybe it was out of pure spite. Maybe he just liked doing the opposite of what his father wanted. Either way, the less time he spent in this place, the better.

He was about to shut the file in his hands when the door to his office swung open without a knock.

Of course.

There was only one person who didn’t bother with things like knocking.

“I was impressed,” his father said as he walked in, taking the seat across from him.

Alex didn’t react.

Didn’t look up.

Didn’t even acknowledge the words.

Because he knew his father.

And praise from Charles Blackwell was never just praise. It always came with strings attached.

“I think it’s time you take your responsibility more seriously,” his father continued. “Start by coming to the office every day.”

“No, thanks.”

His father sighed. “Alex, soon I’ll be retiring. Is this how you’re going to handle the company when I hand it over to you?”

Alex lifted his gaze then, finally looking at him. He didn’t say anything, but the answer was clear in his expression.

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His father studied him, waiting, out when it detanie odvivUS DILA

seat.

་་སད ་་་

་་་ བསྡམ་ བ་་་་་་

“Fine,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “I want you to go for Chi Kyung’s birthday in China.”

That got Alex’s attention.

He dropped the file he was holding and sat back, narrowing his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Chi Kyung is an important investor. I think you’ll be able to convince him to get on board with the project.”

Alex let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

“You’re supposed to be going, Father. I think you’ll do a great job.”

“I want you to go instead,” his father insisted.

Alex exhaled through his nose, tilting his head. “To China?” He let out another short laugh. “I think I’ll pass.”

His father’s jaw tightened.

“That was an order, Alexander.”

The office grew silent.

Alex met his father’s stare, neither of them looking away. The tension in the room thickened.

His father stood up.

His voice was calm, even.

“Don’t push me any further, son.”

And then he walked out.

A threat.

Alex knew it for what it was.

Typical Charles Blackwell way of handling things.

Mia had spent the night tossing and turning, trying to shake off the events of the past twenty-four hours, but sleep had been impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was blood.

The flash of red staining the tiled floor. Her mother’s screams. The loud gunshot that still echoed in her ears.

And Ethan-motionless, pale, barely breathing.

She had thought he was dead.

That image, that moment of panic, had burned itself into her memory.

Now, as she walked into his hospital room, a strange mix of relief and lingering fear settled in her chest.

Ethan was awake.

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Chapter 74

The sight of him sitting up in bed, smiling at her, made her breath a smile.

It was a tired smile, weak but familiar.

He was still here.

“Glad to see you looking alive,” she said, pulling a chair closer to the bed and sinking into it.

“Well-” Ethan adjusted himself on the bed with a wince. “Not dead yet.”

Mia studied him. He looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing his eyes, but his face held that same mischievous light he always carried.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Ethan’s expression shifted. The teasing faded. His eyes, once filled with ease, darkened.

“I think I’m in big shit, Mia.”

Mia stiffened.

Ethan saying this means it’s serious..

Ethan was never just a victim.

Mia nods.

#

“Yeah, we all saw that. You got shot,” she said, trying to keep it light.

But Ethan didn’t laugh.

His fingers fidgeted with the blanket covering his lap, his face hard.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he murmured.

Mia let out a humorless chuckle.

Σ

“The whole thing has got me thinking about my dream of being a doctor,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. “I saw your blood, and I just… blanked out. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.”

She swallowed, her throat tight.

“I thought I’d be different,” she continued, shaking her head. “I thought I’d be stronger.”

“Hey.”

Ethan’s voice pulled her back.

She lifted her gaze to meet his.

“That doesn’t count,” he told her firmly. “You didn’t expect it. And I’m your brother. Your reaction was normal, okay?”

Mia didn’t reply.

Ethan reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Nothing is going to stop you from making a name for yourself. Changing the Turner name from disgrace to honor. You’re going to do that, Mia.”

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