The Forgotten Heir

Chapter 8: The Whisper of Bloodlines

Ryan sat at the back of the library, hunched over his laptop. His notebook, now bursting with scribbled notes and clippings, lay open beside him. His latest discovery-an upcoming Whitmore charity gala-had him buzzing with nerves and anticipation.

It was the perfect opportunity. Eleanor Whitmore herself was listed as the keynote speaker. If he could get inside, he might finally have a chance to confront her. The problem was how to sneak in.

"Black tie event," he muttered, staring at the flyer he'd printed out. "Yeah, because that's easy for a high schooler."

Still, the plan formed in his mind like a dare he couldn't resist. He didn't have time to overthink it. Answers were within reach, and he wasn't going to let fear hold him back.

Inside the Mansion

Meanwhile, at the Whitmore estate, the brothers weren't letting go of the mystery boy either. Logan and Ethan, the two most vocal about the encounter, had drawn the others into their quiet obsession.

"Let me get this straight," Nate, the oldest brother, said as he lounged in the study. "You think some random kid hanging out by our gates is... what? A stalker? A long-lost cousin?"

"Not random," Logan said firmly. "He looked like us. Tell me you don't see it."

Nate rolled his eyes but glanced at the family photo Logan had brought up on his tablet. His usual air of authority wavered for a moment as he studied it.

"He's got the eyes," Nate said finally, leaning back in his chair. "But that doesn't mean anything. Could be a coincidence."

Ethan shook his head. "I talked to him. He was nervous-like he didn't want me to ask questions."

Theo, ever the cynic, snorted. "Or maybe he was nervous because you caught him trespassing?"

"Or," Logan said, his voice low and deliberate, "he's got a reason to be here."

The room fell silent. The brothers exchanged glances, unease creeping into their expressions.

"Alright," Nate said, breaking the tension. "If you're so convinced, let's figure out who he is. No half-baked theories. Real answers. We're Whitmores, after all. We don't leave loose ends."

Preparing for the Gala

Ryan's plan to infiltrate the Whitmore gala came together faster than he expected. He borrowed a secondhand suit from his cousin-a little big, but passable-and managed to swipe a flyer from the charity organizer's website to serve as his "ticket."

The night of the gala, his nerves were on edge. He rode his bike to the venue, stashing it behind some bushes before approaching the grand hall. It was a sprawling, glittering event, with luxury cars lining the driveway and guests milling about in gowns and tuxedos.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, tucking the flyer under his arm as he followed a group of guests through the entrance.

Inside, the opulence was overwhelming. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and soft classical music floated through the air. Ryan kept his head down, sticking to the edges of the crowd. His heart pounded with every step, but no one stopped him.

The Brothers Take Notice

Logan spotted Ryan first. He was leaning against the wall near the back of the hall, partially obscured by a group of guests. Logan's heart skipped a beat as recognition settled in.

"Ethan," he hissed, elbowing his brother. "Look."

Ethan followed his gaze, his brows furrowing. "That's him," he said, his voice tense.

Logan didn't wait. He pushed through the crowd, heading straight for Ryan. Ethan followed close behind, their determination palpable.

Ryan froze when he saw them coming. Panic surged through him, but there was nowhere to run. The brothers stopped a few feet away, their tall frames towering over him.

"You've got guts showing up here," Logan said, his voice low but steady.

Ryan swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet their gaze. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he said quickly.

"Then why are you here?" Ethan demanded. His tone wasn't angry, but it wasn't kind either.

Ryan hesitated, the truth balancing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell them, to blurt it out, but he couldn't risk it. Not yet.

"I just wanted to see what this was all about," he said instead, gesturing vaguely to the gala. "It looked... interesting."

Logan crossed his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You don't belong here, do you?"

Ryan's cheeks burned. "No," he admitted.

Before they could press further, a voice cut through the tension. "Logan, Ethan! What are you doing back here?"

The brothers turned to see Theo approaching, a glass of champagne in hand. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted Ryan.

"Wait, is this the kid?" Theo asked, smirking.

Logan nodded. "He was outside the gates the other day. And now he's here."

Theo studied Ryan, his smirk fading. For a moment, his expression turned serious, almost curious.

"Who are you?" Theo asked quietly.

Ryan clenched his fists, his mind racing for an answer. "No one," he said finally.

Logan snorted. "You're not no one."

Before Ryan could respond, the sound of a microphone crackling to life filled the room. The brothers turned, and Ryan seized the opportunity, slipping away into the crowd.

The Matriarch Speaks

From the stage, Eleanor Whitmore began her speech. Her voice was smooth and practiced, her every word calculated to inspire admiration. Ryan found himself drawn to her, his eyes fixed on the woman who had given him away.

She looked so composed, so untouchable. Yet as she spoke, Ryan couldn't help but notice the faint tremor in her hands, the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"She's hiding something," he whispered to himself.

The Brothers' Realization

Back in the crowd, Logan, Ethan, and Theo regrouped, their eyes scanning the room for Ryan.

"He's gone," Logan muttered, frustration lacing his voice.

Ethan's jaw tightened. "We'll find him."

But Theo wasn't looking at the crowd anymore. His gaze had shifted to the stage, where their mother stood under the spotlight.

"You don't think..." Theo started, his voice trailing off.

Logan frowned. "Think what?"

Theo hesitated, his brow furrowing. "He looks like her."

Ethan's eyes widened. "You think Mom knows who he is?"

The idea hung in the air, unspoken but heavy.

Logan's voice was quiet but firm. "We need to figure this out. Now."

For the first time, the brothers felt the cracks forming in their perfect family. Something was wrong, and it all came back to the boy who looked like them-the boy they couldn't ignore.