THIRD PERSON POV
Killganon Estate – Manhattan, New York
The meeting room smelled faintly of aged leather, cigar smoke, and the bitter tang of whiskey left too long in crystal decanters.
Polished walnut walls gleamed under the low light of a chandelier, reflecting faces lined with power and greed.
The patriarch of the Killganon family, Elias Killganon, sat at the head of the long mahogany table, silent but commanding.
Even without a word, his presence was a constant pressure, like an invisible hand on everyone's shoulder.
Alec Killganon stood three seats down, rigid in his tailored suit. He looked like a man cornered, yet trying desperately to look dignified.
"Alec, dear brother," Bennett Killganon said smoothly, swirling his drink. His voice dripped false warmth, but his eyes glittered with spite. "You're looking tense. Everything alright? Family life treating you well?"
"Just fine," Alec said curtly. The words landed like shards of glass, sharp but fragile.
"But that can't be true," Bennett pressed, feigning a sympathetic frown. "I hear you're still… keeping that little bastard penned up somewhere on the estate. Must be difficult to hide something like that. My heart bleeds for you—truly."
A few soft chuckles rippled around the table. Two of Alec's sisters exchanged sly glances, while his youngest brother covered his mouth poorly to stifle a laugh.
Alec's jaw tightened. "He is no son of mine." The words came out clipped, but underneath was a tremor of anger—and fear. He dared not look at Elias at the head of the table.
"Is that so?" Bennett arched an eyebrow, enjoying the show. "Well, you should be rid of him soon, then. You know what Father thinks about stains on the family name."
"He's already been removed," Alec said quickly. "From the official registry and the personal one. By tomorrow, he'll be gone."
"Good man!" Bennett slammed his glass down, grinning. "After all, the best way to deal with a stray mutt is to toss it back into the wild. Let the wolves have him!"
This time, the laughter was louder. One of the sisters even clapped her hands, though she fell silent the moment Elias shifted in his seat.
The patriarch finally spoke, his voice low and rough from age but carrying absolute authority.
"Enough."
The room froze. Elias Killganon didn't have to raise his voice; a single word from him cut deeper than any shout.
His cold gaze swept the table, landing briefly on Alec before moving on.
"This family is not a circus. If any of you find amusement in mocking your own blood, do it somewhere I don't have to hear it."
The laughter died instantly. No one met his eyes.
Elias leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Alec. You've handled this matter?"
"Yes, Father," Alec said quickly, bowing his head slightly. "The boy will no longer be our concern."
"Good," Elias said flatly. "Our name is worth more than any one man. Remember that."
The words hung heavy in the room like a judge's gavel. Alec exhaled, shoulders dropping an inch in relief.
Bennett smirked, but even he didn't push further under their father's gaze.
Killganon Estate – Manhattan, New York– East wing living quarters.
Four sisters lounged in a sunlit parlor, the soundproofed door barely keeping out the echoes of the meeting.
"Ugh, I'm so bored I might actually die," Kaylee groaned, sprawled on a velvet couch.
"Kaylee, shut up," Laila shot back, rolling her eyes. "You've been whining like a desperate hooker for two days straight."
"tch. Bitch."
"Whore!"
"Cow-tittied bimbo!"
"Both of you shut the hell up," Kayla muttered without looking up from her phone.
Her voice had the kind of cold precision that ended arguments instantly. The room fell silent.
Then Kylie screeched sharply, nearly dropping her phone. "Oh my God!"
Kayla winced, yanking out an earbud. "Hey, Kylie, there are better ways to commit suicide, But YOU JUST HAD TO PICK THE MOST PAINFUL ONE HUH?!" She yells getting ready to beat the shit out of her little sister.
"No, look at this!" Kylie thrust her phone at her older sister in a desperate scramble to explain. Kayla scrolled quickly, her expression darkening with every swipe.
"We've got to tell Dad. Now."
The girls hurried down the hallway but froze just outside the heavy oak meeting room door as voices carried through.
"…He is no son of mine. I've removed him from the registry. He'll be gone by tomorrow."
Kayla's jaw clenched, her knuckles whitening around Kylie's phone. "Dammit," she hissed.
"What do we do?" Kylie whispered, pale. Every Killganon sister shared the same dream: marry rich, live effortlessly, bask in luxury without lifting a finger.
Killian was the perfect candidate—money, power, and that effortless charisma. And they'd been blind to it until now.
Kayla's eyes hardened. "We tell Dad and Grandpa. Now."
She pushed open the door, interrupting the meeting.
Silence prevailed as the heavy oak doors leading into the meeting room slammed open.
Four sisters rushed in, breathless. Kayla in the lead, Kylie just behind, their faces pale with urgency.
Elias didn't move. His gaze shifted to the door with the slow inevitability of a predator noticing prey.
"Who," he asked softly, "gave you permission to enter this room?"
The quietness was worse than a shout. Bennett smirked at the interruption, but even he lowered his eyes when Elias' voice dropped that low.
Kayla, normally sharp-tongued, felt her throat tighten. "G-Grandfather, we—"
"Stop." Elias raised one hand—not quickly, just a deliberate motion—and the word died in her mouth. "You do not interrupt my meetings. You do not barge into this room. And you certainly do not shout in my house."
Every adult at the table stared straight ahead, pretending not to breathe. The sound of Elias' gold signet ring clicking against the table—tap, tap, tap—was the only thing audible.
"Now," Elias said finally, voice like chilled steel, "you will close that door. You will compose yourselves. And if you have something to say, you will stand there like civilized humans and wait for me to invite you to speak."
Kayla's palms were slick with sweat. She exchanged a glance with Kylie, who looked like she wanted to run.
But they both stepped back, pushed the door mostly shut, and stood silent, staring at the floor.
Elias let the moment stretch until it was unbearable. Then he turned his head, just enough to look at them directly.
"Well?" he said at last. "You may speak."
Kayla's voice trembled despite her effort to steady it. "It's about Killian."
For the first time, Elias' expression changed—a faint tightening around the eyes.
The rest of the family exchanged sharp looks. Alec's heart sank into his stomach.
"Then," Elias said, voice still calm but colder than ice, "you had better choose your next words very carefully."
Kayla forced herself to stand tall, but her voice still wavered. "We just saw something on social media… about Killian."
Elias Killganon didn't blink. He simply tilted his head, the faintest sign that she should go on.
Kayla swallowed hard. "There's a video. He was at Pierre Pointe Mall a few hours ago… walking in with Piper and Liz, Kylie's friends. He drove up in a luxury sports car.
And...he just handed Liz ten thousand dollars in cash to entertain Alicia. Like it was pocket change."
The room shifted. Chairs creaked softly as heads turned. Even Bennett's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.
"He also—" Kylie piped up before Kayla could stop her, "—he had a U-Haul truck follow them home because they bought so much stuff. At least sixty grand in a single trip."
A low murmur rippled around the table. Alec's face went chalk white.
Elias tapped his signet ring against the table once. The sound cracked through the room like a gavel. Silence slammed back into place.
"Sixty thousand dollars," Elias repeated softly. "From a boy who, according to his father, has no access to family accounts."
Alec's voice came out too fast. "I—I don't know how he—"
"Quiet." Elias didn't raise his voice, but Alec stopped talking mid-word. The patriarch's cold eyes pinned his granddaughters.
"Show me."
Kayla stepped forward, holding out her phone with trembling hands. Elias didn't take it—he simply flicked two fingers, and a butler stepped away from the wall to retrieve it.
The man crossed to Elias, set the phone on the table, and stepped back silently.
Elias pressed the screen once, watching the grainy mall video play out. Killian, tall and self-assured, arriving in Koenigsegg Jesko Odin a car woth upwards of $5,000,000 and handing a stack of hundreds to a red headed girl, who was most likely the one named Liz, from his wallet without even glancing or flinching at the amount.
A redhead girl, who Elias then deduced was the one called was Piper, was clinging to his arm like she owned him. A look which Elias had seen in many girls who were materialistic, indicating that Piper saw Killian as financially capable, and didn't wish to lose him.
With observant eyes, Elias noticed Killian's casual arrogance of someone who'd never worried about money a day in his life.
A far cry from a boy who supposedly sleeps in a shed.
Elias' eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Interesting."
Bennett broke the silence first. "Well, well… Looks like the mutt found a golden bone."
"Or," one of Alec's sisters added, voice sharp with sudden curiosity, "maybe he's not a mutt at all. Maybe Alec's been lying to us about just how worthless his son really is."
Alec bristled. "He's nothing—"
Elias cut him off with a single glance. "Alec. Sit."
Alec sank back into his chair, sweat beading at his temples.
Elias leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Children who appear from nowhere with money to burn tend to have secrets. Either he's stealing which isn't likely given his demeanor… or someone with resources is backing him. Either way, I want to know which."
"Want me to follow him?"
Bennett asked eagerly, his grin returning. "I've still got a few friends who know how to ask questions that get answers."
Elias didn't answer immediately. He studied the frozen image on the phone screen—Killian mid-step, confident, almost regal without realizing it.
Something in his bearing gnawed at Elias. It wasn't the swagger of a spoiled child; it was something sharper.
"Do not spook him," Elias said finally. "We watch. We learn. And if he's found gold somewhere, we take it from him before he even knows what it's worth."
A cold chuckle circled the table.
"What about the registry removal?" one sister asked cautiously. "Do we still cut him off?"
Elias' mouth curved, but it wasn't a smile. "A leash works better when the dog doesn't know it's there."
He slid the phone back toward Kayla with a dismissive gesture. "You did well to bring this to me. You may go."
The girls exhaled as if they'd been holding their breath for an hour, bowing their heads slightly before backing out.
As the heavy door shut behind them, Elias' expression hardened. "Alec."
"Yes, Father?" Alec's voice was thin, almost childlike.
"If you've underestimated your boy," Elias said softly, "I will not forgive you. Find out where that money came from. Quietly. If you need Bennett's help, take it. I want answers by tomorrow."
"Yes, Father," Alec whispered.
"And if you fail me," Elias added, almost as an afterthought, "you won't need to worry about disowning him. You'll be too busy worrying about yourself."
The room went dead still. Alec's hands trembled as he clenched them into fists under the table.
"You are all dismissed. I hope this incident is resolved sooner rather than later. After all, the Killganon Pharmaceutical Familial shares will be redistributed in 14 days." Elias said calmly, rising to his feet.
The scrape of his chair on the polished floor sounded like judgment itself. And after his absence? Deafening silence.
----------------------
And hundreds of miles away from the desolate atmosphere of the Killganon Estate, Killian received a formal call from a legal representative informing him of his disownment.
With a grin, he says aloud, "So, old man. You finally did, huh? It's truly such a shame. Nobody truly knows what they have... until they don't have it anymore..."
Then, whistling merrily, he dials a number.
"Hey, Alfred. Been a while, hasn't it? I need you to buy me a penthouse in Manhattan. And also, please make a formal and public announcement relating to me being the heir to the Blackwell Family. Give the story that my mother was actually Trisha Blackwell. I'll be there shortly."
I'm sorry it had to come to this, pops. But Someone should've taught not to wound what you couldn't kill...