Chapter 2 A Secret Among the Heirs

The next day, three cars tore down the highway toward the same address: Kyle Huxley, behind the wheel of a screaming yellow supercar; Kyle Skyler, the nation's reigning pop idol, drove his favorite white coupe; and Kyle Jeffery drove a sleek, understated black one.

All three had gotten the same text from Secretary York that morning: "There's an important announcement about your grandfather that will be made at 6:00 p.m. sharp. If you don't come, I will freeze all your credit cards."

Jeffery's message had one extra line, meant for him alone: "If you don't come, I will keep the circumstances regarding your birth a secret forever."

All staff were dressed in sharp formal suits and stood at the front of "Jupiter's suite" waiting for the arrival of the Chairman's heirs.

Finally, the grandsons arrived together; they tossed their keys to the valets without a glance, and walked in together. The automated glass doors slid open on their own.

Jeffery led the way, flanked by Huxley on his right and Skyler on his left. As they strode through the soaring marble reception hall, people from all different walks of life, both great and small, were staring at the powerful trio.

They found Secretary York waiting in the private sitting room reserved for family matters, standing by the window with his hands folded behind his back.

"Is Grandpa dying?" Huxley demanded without greeting him.

"Did he collapse?" Skyler asked. "Where is Grandpa?" Jeffery added. Three questions, practically on top of each other.

Instead of answering, Secretary York handed them an invitation card. The trio stared at it and were surprised; their expressions turned from concern to pure disbelief.

"You froze my cards for this?" Huxley stared at the card as if it might turn into something else.

"I canceled my entire day for this!" Skyler snapped.

"It was the only way I'd get all three of you in one room," York responded calmly.

Jeffery let out a dry, humorless laugh and questioned him. "Was it you who contacted us? Are you messing with us right now?"

"Grandpa's wedding invitation? Like, are you for real?" Huxley demanded.

"I'm not going," Jeffery stated flatly.

"Honestly, this isn't right," Skyler muttered, tossing the card aside.

Huxley rounded on Jeffery. "Hey, you're not the only one who doesn't want to go!"

"All three of you must attend the wedding as a family," York shouted with a very serious face.

"Family!!!" The three cousins chorused.

"First, there was a cousin who popped out of nowhere, and now we are getting a new grandma who is my mom's age?" Huxley snapped.

"That's why I said I won't go," Jeffery answered.

"Are you two fighting again?" Skyler asked wearily.

Enraged, Jeffery crumpled his invitation card to the floor with anger and turned to leave.

"Kyle Jeffery!" York's voice cracked like a whip.

"Don't call me that. I'm Han Jeffery." He hissed and walked away. "No, you are Kyle Jeffery." York insisted, his gaze unwavering.

Skyler's phone buzzed. He held it up for York to see. "I'm out too. My schedule's packed." He was already halfway to the door.

Now the room was left with York and Huxley.

Huxley smiled as he looked at his grandfather's wedding picture and smirked. "You have to come," York told him. "Of course, it's Grandpa's fifth wedding after all. I'll even bring a gift." He stood up and walked away.

York was left alone. He stood there; his mind drifted back to the rainy afternoon he had first brought Jeffery to the Jupiter Mansion, after discovering he was Chairman Kyle's illegitimate grandson.

"This is where the chairman's other grandchildren live," as they arrived at the mansion. York told the reserved young Jeffery. "We've prepared a room for you over there. Go get some rest: The chairman will soon be here for dinner..."

While he was still talking to Jeffery, his phone rang; then he took an excuse to answer the call. Left alone, Jeffery wandered and started admiring the beautiful view of the house until he bumped into Huxley.

"Who are you?" Huxley had asked

"And who the hell are you?" Jeffery shot back.

"You don't know who I am?" Huxley asked, looking genuinely surprised. "Are you new here or something?" He smiled. "Oh! You are the new cleaning guy. Sure. I'll let you off the hook since it's your first time. You can go."

Jeffery had chuckled. "What!" At this point, his hand was already curling into a fist when York rounded the corner.

"KYLE JEFFERY!" he shouted his name at that instant.

Back in the present, the memory faded. York remembered the two boys sitting across from each other that day.

"You two...are cousins," York had explained gently.

"What?!" Huxley had shouted. "Mr. Kyle Jeffery is the son of your Uncle, the late Kyle Stephen."

"How could Uncle Stephen have a son when he never got married? That's just ridiculous." Huxley studied Jeffery's face like he might find the lie in it. "Did you actually check this thoroughly?" he asked York.

"Hey! What kind of prestigious family is your mother from?" He fired at Jeffery next. "I mean, what kind of great family are you from that they kept you hidden all this time? Did you live abroad this whole time? What school did you attend?"

"I lived in an orphanage after my mom passed away ten years ago," Jeffery answered coolly. "And I dropped out of high school."

Huxley had stared at him for a beat before bursting into hysterical laughter, and Jeffery had no idea why.

"Gosh! I was worried for nothing. But then again, is it Grandpa's hobby to go find himself new grandsons or something? It wasn't even that long ago that he took that busker kid off the streets, and now you. Well, one thing is sure. He's definitely an interesting old man. Right?" He stood up and walked away.

"You'll soon get used to things around here," York reassures him.

"Do I really have to get used to this?"

Back in the present, Chairman Kyle stood by a massive glass window at the Jupiter Company headquarters, staring out over the sprawling city skyline. The door clicked softly, and Secretary York walked into the executive suite.

"How did they react?" the chairman asked, without turning around.

"I don't think any of them will be coming, sir."

The chairman let out a heavy, weathered sigh. "So not a single one of them understands how I feel. I can't do all these things by myself any longer; I can't run the company alone. I need one of them to help me...I need a successor. Someone to actually lead this company."

"They're all still quite young, sir," York responded gently.

"Being young isn't an excuse." The Chairman countered, finally turning around. "But I'm sure I'll see which one of them deserves the position by watching them live together and duke it out among themselves. Secretary York," He called.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Make sure you get them to show their faces at my wedding. The world will be watching us that day. If I let them off the hook for their mistakes, just because they're young, all of that will add up eventually and make them terrible people. And that will be detrimental to the Jupiter Company and Group as a whole."

"I understand, Sir!"

Down at the gritty neighborhood mechanic workshop, Jeffery was deep under the hood of a vehicle when a screech of tires cut through the air. A man pulled up in a flashy sedan and began shouting at the manager.

"How many times has this been already?" he shouted, slamming his hand on the hood. "So, I have to pay for repairs again?"

"Sir, you will put us in a difficult position if you continue acting this way." The manager replied in a low, weary tone. "But this isn't my fault!" the man shot back.

"What's going on over there?" Jeffery asked his colleague. "Gosh! Not that guy again." His coworker groaned, tossing a wrench into a toolbox. "He's a blogger."

While they were still talking, the man shouted at the manager even more. "Hey! You! What did you idiots do to my car?"

Jeffery then asked, "But why is he shouting?"

"He wrecked it himself, and he's trying to pin it on us," his coworker muttered. "How many times has it been already? This is like the fifth time, and he keeps threatening to post a bad review of us online if we don't fix it for free. Gosh!" His colleague was getting aggravated.

Without a word, Jeffery climbed into the car he'd been working on, started the engine, and drove it straight into the blogger's car, slamming hard enough that the door came off its hinges and the side mirror shattered on the pavement.

"HEY!" The man screamed, his face turning purple. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Not particularly," he answered coolly as he stepped out of the wreck.

The man closed the distance between them, shaking with rage, and grabbed a fistful of Jeffery's overalls. "What? What did you just say? You little punk. Do you know how expensive this car is?"

Jeffery forcefully wrenched his hands away. "I'm sure I know better than you." He tossed a set of keys to the manager. "I'll cover both repairs. Get whatever you want fixed, but in exchange, you must apologize. Apologize and don't come back here with this entitled act of yours ever again." He pulled his own wallet out, extracted a black card, and tossed it directly to his stunned manager.