Nathaniel leaned against the cabin door like he owned the place. His blazer was too clean for this dusty town. Too sharp. His shoes—Italian leather, polished like mirrors—rested in dirt that didn't belong to him. He looked out of place, but he didn't care. Nathaniel never cared.
Alexander stopped in his tracks. His heart didn't just beat fast—it punched.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice sharp.
Nathaniel's smirk deepened. "Nice cabin. Rustic. A bit moldy, but I guess that's the vibe out here."
"You didn't answer."
"I don't need to." He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "You thought you could just disappear? Live some fairytale life in Hicksville? Come on, Alex. You're a Kingsley. You don't just vanish."
Alexander clenched his fists. "I didn't vanish. I left. Big difference."
Nathaniel tilted his head. "Right. Because Daddy forced you. Sent you on some twisted camping trip to grow a soul."
Alexander stepped forward. "What do you want?"
Nathaniel's smile vanished. "I want you to come home. Now."
Alexander blinked. "What?"
"Your little punishment? It's over. Or... about to be. Father's planning a public return. Big announcement. The prodigal son is coming back. Headlines. Cameras. Red carpets."
Alexander didn't speak. His stomach twisted.
"You're serious?"
"As a stroke," Nathaniel said, voice cold. "They want you back. Maybe they think the dirt taught you something. Maybe they think you're ready to wear the crown."
Alexander laughed once. Dry. "I haven't learned anything but how to scrub toilets and change oil."
Nathaniel shrugged. "Doesn't matter. They'll spin it. That's what the Kingsleys do. Lie big. Smile wide. You'll be sitting in leather chairs again before the month's out."
But Alexander shook his head. "I'm not ready."
"You don't get to decide."
Silence. Hot, heavy silence.
Then Alexander asked the question he'd been dreading: "Does he know about Lila?"
Nathaniel grinned like a shark. "Oh yeah. That's why I'm here."
Alexander froze.
Nathaniel leaned in close. "He wants her gone. Now."
Alexander stared at him. "She's not a problem."
"To him, she's a virus. Poor. Unknown. A stain."
"Then let him choke on his image," Alexander snapped.
Nathaniel's tone darkened. "Don't test him, Alex. He'll destroy her."
"She's not part of the game."
"She is now. You brought her into it."
Alexander's fists trembled. "If he touches her"
"He won't have to. He'll just ruin everything around her. Her job. Her home. Her family's future. Quietly. Efficiently. You know how he works."
Alexander wanted to scream. Wanted to punch something. Nathaniel saw it, and that smugness returned.
"You think this is a love story? You're a Kingsley. We don't get love stories. We get arranged mergers."
Alexander's jaw clenched. "I'm not leaving her."
"Then watch her suffer."
Nathaniel turned and walked off into the dark, his laughter floating behind him like poison in the air.
Lila found Alexander by the creek that night. He didn't say much. Just skipped rocks and kept his eyes low. She sat beside him, cross-legged, sipping from a soda bottle.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer right away. The moon shimmered on the water. Frogs croaked somewhere in the distance. Everything felt too calm.
"My cousin showed up."
"Tall? Fancy jacket? Looked like he eats caviar for breakfast?"
Alexander smiled weakly. "That's him."
"What did he want?"
Alexander turned to her. "To ruin us."
She stared. "What do you mean?"
"They want me back home. But not with you."
Lila raised a brow. "So I'm the problem."
"To them, yeah. Not to me."
She leaned back on her elbows. "Why do rich people always think they own everything?"
"Because most of the time, they do."
She studied his face. "So what now?"
"I don't know."
Lila stood. "Well, I do. You figure out who you are, Alex. Not your dad's version. Not some perfect puppet. Just... you. If that includes me, then fine. If not... don't waste my time."
She walked off into the night.
The next few days were fire.
Alexander couldn't focus at work. Carl yelled more than usual. The heat felt sharper. The tools heavier. At night, he paced his cabin like a caged animal.
Nathaniel was still in town, lurking, watching. One night, Alexander caught him outside Lila's house. Just sitting in a black car, engine off.
That was it.
Alexander stormed over, ripped the car door open. "Get the hell away from her."
Nathaniel didn't even flinch. "Relax. Just making sure she's safe."
"Liar."
Nathaniel stepped out, face inches from Alexander. "What are you going to do? Punch me? You think the cops care about her? About you? You're just a kid playing rebel."
Alexander's voice was low. "You want me home so bad, tell him I'll come."
Nathaniel blinked. "What?"
"But only if he leaves her alone. Forever. No threats. No sabotage. Nothing. I'll sign whatever he wants."
"You'd give it all up for her?"
Alexander nodded. "Yes."
Nathaniel stared at him. "You really fell that hard?"
"She's the first real thing I've ever had."
Nathaniel looked away, jaw tight. For the first time, he looked... bothered.
Then he muttered, "You always got everything. Even this."
And drove off.
That night, Lila found Alexander again. He told her everything. No lies. No fluff.
She cried. Not out of fear. But because no one had ever chosen her over power before.
They sat under the stars for hours, holding hands. Saying nothing. Just breathing.
But peace never lasts long in a Kingsley story.
Two days later, Lila's house caught fire.
A short-circuit, they said. Coincidence, they claimed.
But Alexander knew better.
He ran to the smoking ruin barefoot, coughing through the ash. Lila and her brother stood outside, wrapped in blankets, safe. Shaken.
Her mother sat in the back of an ambulance.
Alexander scanned the crowd. No Nathaniel. But his presence was there in the way the police didn't question anything. In the way the firemen avoided eye contact.
Lila turned to him, eyes wet. "They'll never let me go, will they?"
"No," Alexander said. "But I'm not letting you go either."
Then something shifted in his chest.
Fear turned to steel.
He had to fight back.
Not with fists. Not with threats.
With truth.
With exposure.
Back in the cabin, Alexander opened the floorboard and pulled out the only thing he kept from home—a burner phone. A number was saved in it. A reporter. One who'd begged for an inside story on the Kingsleys.
He stared at the screen.
One call.
One story.
And the perfect empire could crack.
He pressed dial.
The line rang.
"Hello?"
Alexander took a breath.
"My name's Alexander Kingsley," he said. "I have a story for you. "