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MidReal Story
Hidden Heir
Scenario:Damn it! The man I’ve been keeping is actually the heir of a wealthy tycoon!
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Natalia Harper
the woman who discovers her guest's true identity, friends with other protagonists, short brown hair, green eyes, resourceful and secretive.
Lucas Grant
the heir to a wealthy tycoon's empire, guest of Natalia Harper, tall with dark hair and blue eyes, charming and unaware of his true identity.
Paulina Lennon
Natalia's rival and manipulative adversary, secretly involved with Natalia's husband, seeks to undermine Natalia's quest for justice while maintaining a facade of friendship.
Six months earlier…
My eyes widened as I finally discovered the identity of the mysterious man who had been living with me for almost a year.
I hadn’t known who he was from the start, but I had been too curious to let him know about it.
I flipped the newspaper over and saw the clear photo of him standing beside his father.
A smile played on my lips as I finally gave him an identity and a last name to his familiar first name.
He was Lucas Grant, the only son of the tycoon Lucas Grant Sr., and the sole heir to his massive fortune.
I couldn’t help but look back on all the months we had spent together and laugh at how he had thought that I wouldn’t have figured out who he was if he didn’t tell me.
I remembered the first time we went shopping together outside the house, how he had tried to keep a low profile, and how he had almost gotten into a fight with a man who kept trying to flirt with me.
If I had remembered correctly, then that should have been the first time that he had shown his real personality to me.
Before that day, I had assumed that he was just another snob, but that fight had shown me otherwise.
I waited until dinner to confront him, setting two plates of pasta on the wooden table that was set in the corner of the living room.
I had rehearsed the whole thing in my head a million times, so I knew exactly what to do.
As soon as he sat down, I slid the newspaper across to him and watched as his shoulders tensed up when he saw the photo of us.
He stared at it silently for a minute, his fork suspended halfway between his plate and mouth.
I leaned forward in my chair and kept my voice steady as I asked him directly why he had hidden who he was from me.
His blue eyes darted between me and the door, as if he were calculating his chances of escape.
Before he could say anything, I placed my hand over his and reminded him of how much we had been through together.
The tension immediately drained from his shoulders, and he stopped looking at the door.
He stared at the photo of him and his father for a few more minutes before pushing his plate away and pulling out his wallet.
I waited silently as he flipped through it and pulled out a worn family photo.
He placed it next to the newspaper one, and I saw that it was him when he was younger.
He was probably around fifteen or sixteen in the photo, judging by how clean-shaven he was.
He wore an expensive suit that made him look stiff and uncomfortable, while his father stood beside him with a stern expression on his face.
His fingers traced the edge of the photo, and I noticed that there were old creases where it had been folded and unfolded countless times.
I leaned back in my chair and watched him carefully as he continued to arrange the photos side by side on the table.
The overhead light cast harsh shadows across his face, and I saw that there were dark circles under his eyes.
He methodically treated the newspaper clipping and his old family photo as if they were puzzle pieces that might reveal some hidden truth when placed together.
When he finally looked up at me, his hands were shaking.
I reached for the wine bottle to pour us both a fresh glass, but he stopped me with a gentle touch on my wrist.
The familiar warmth of his fingers on my skin was a stark contrast to the grave expression that had settled on his face.
The silence stretched out between us, and I felt a sudden urge to break the tension.
But before I could say anything, there was a gentle tapping at the door.
Lucas's hand tightened on my wrist as we both turned toward the sound.
Through the frosted glass panel, I saw a feminine silhouette.
Lucas slowly rose from his chair, his eyes fixed on the door.
His gaze was intense, as if he were trying to see through the frosted glass to get a glimpse of who was on the other side.
He walked over to the door with slow, almost mechanical steps.
I followed him, keeping a safe distance from his tall frame.
As he reached for the doorknob, I noticed that his hand was still gripping the creased family photo tightly.
When he opened the door, a woman with piercing blue eyes stared back at him.
She was dressed in a long, expensive-looking coat that seemed out of place in our humble neighborhood.
Lucas stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.
His movements were stiff and guarded, as if he were afraid of being too close to her.
The woman glided past us, her expensive perfume filling the cramped hallway.
She walked over to the kitchen table and settled into one of the chairs with a fluid grace that seemed almost feline.
Her manicured fingers reached for the newspaper clipping, but Lucas quickly gathered the photos and slid them into his wallet.
He closed it with a small click, and I saw his jaw clench when she spoke his name.
"Lucas," she said softly, her voice husky and familiar.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized that this woman knew Lucas better than I had initially thought.
He didn't respond to her greeting, instead walking over to the wine rack to grab another glass.
As he poured her a glass of wine, his hands were shaking so much that droplets spilled onto the worn tablecloth. The woman's eyes never left his face as she took a deliberate sip of her wine.
I leaned against the kitchen counter and studied her carefully.
Her manicured nails were wrapped around the delicate stem of her wine glass as she took another slow sip.
Lucas shifted in his chair, his shoulders tense as he glanced between us.
The woman's lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Oh, Lucas and I go way back," she drawled, setting down her glass with a soft clink on the table.
"Don't we, darling?"
Lucas's jaw clenched as he stared at his untouched wine.
The woman reached into her designer purse and pulled out a folded document, sliding it across the table toward Lucas.
Lucas hesitated, his eyes locked on the document as if it were a coiled snake.
"What is this, Evelyn?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, her smile widening. "It's the truth you've been running from all these years."
I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Lucas's face drained of color.
His fingers tightened on the document, his knuckles white as it crumpled at the edges.
Evelyn maintained her poised smile, occasionally lifting her wine glass to her lips while studying Lucas's reaction.
The only sound in the room was the ticking of our old wall clock, the rhythmic beat echoing off the walls.
When he reached the bottom of the page, Lucas slumped back in his chair, the paper falling from his trembling hands onto our worn tablecloth.
I moved forward to pick it up, but he suddenly grabbed my arm, his voice cracking as he turned to Evelyn.
"How did you find this?"
Lucas demanded, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear.
I moved closer to Lucas as Evelyn's words hung in the air.
She reached into her purse once more, pulling out another folded paper.
She slid it across our wine-stained tablecloth, her eyes locked on Lucas's face.
Lucas's breathing quickened as he stared at the new document, but he made no move to touch it.
I reached for it instead, but Evelyn's manicured hand shot out, pinning the paper down with a click of her rings against the wooden table.
She leaned forward, her perfume overwhelming me as she pushed the paper directly in front of Lucas.
"Not for your eyes, dear," she purred.
Lucas finally picked it up with trembling fingers, unfolding it slowly while I gripped the back of his chair.
His eyes scanned the page, and I could see the moment he reached the damning line.
"Evelyn," he croaked, his voice barely holding together, "this changes everything."
Evelyn nodded, her expression softening for the first time. "It was never meant to be a secret forever, Lucas."
Lucas and Evelyn both stared at the document, their faces inches apart as they seemed hypnotized by the words on the paper.
The kitchen air grew thick with Evelyn's perfume, and I could smell the faint scent of wine on her breath.
I watched as Lucas's hands trembled, his eyes welling up with tears.
Something inside me snapped, and before I could think it through, I lunged forward and snatched the document from Lucas's loose grip.
The paper crinkled loudly in my fists as I clenched it tightly.
Before either of them could react, I tore the document into long strips, the sound of ripping paper echoing through our silent kitchen.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed, but a hint of satisfaction flickered across her face as she whispered, "Now it's truly yours to decide."