Chapter 7 - A Shadow from the Past
Six months passed.
The valley had transformed under the bright warmth of late summer. Maribel & Pierce Estates had launched its newest vintage—a rich Cabernet named Rebirth—which had already received critical acclaim across the wine industry. The dark scandal that had once threatened to destroy them had faded into a distant memory, replaced by stories of resilience and redemption.
Little Leo—named after Maribel’s late grandfather—was now a bubbly, healthy seven-month-old baby with bright blue eyes and his mother’s infectious laugh.
On a warm Tuesday evening, Nathaniel and Maribel hosted a private dinner on the outdoor terrace of the estate to celebrate the end of the harvest season. A few close friends, local vineyard workers, and their legal team gathered around a long oak table under hanging fairy lights.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and purple, a courier motorcycle pulled up to the front gate of the estate.
The security guard at the gate checked the delivery slip and allowed the courier to drive up to the main house.
Nathaniel stepped away from the dinner table, wiping his hands with a napkin as he walked over to the driveway to meet the driver.
"Nathaniel Pierce?" the courier asked, holding out a digital signature pad.
"Yes, that's me."
"I have an urgent certified delivery for you from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation," the driver said, handing him a thick, red-stamped legal envelope. "Sign here, please."
Nathaniel felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He signed the pad, took the envelope, and watched as the courier drove away.
He walked back toward his private study away from the dinner guests, tearing open the wax seal on the envelope. Inside was an official notification letter from the San Quentin State Penitentiary, accompanied by a sealed handwritten note.
He pulled out the official prison notice first.
SUBJECT: VIVIAN ELIZABETH PIERCE STATUS UPDATE: INMATE DECEASED. TIME OF DEATH: 14:15 HOURS. CAUSE OF DEATH: ACUTE CARDIAC ARREST / SUSPECTED TOXICOLOGICAL COMPLICATIONS.
Nathaniel stared at the words INMATE DECEASED. Vivian was dead. She had suffered a fatal heart attack in her high-security cell earlier that afternoon.
A complex rush of emotions flooded through Nathaniel—grief, relief, pity, and a lingering sadness for the mother she could have been. He leaned against his mahogany desk, taking a slow, deep breath.
Then, he noticed the secondary handwritten letter that had been enclosed in the prison packet. It was written on yellow lined paper, penned in Vivian’s distinctive, elegant calligraphy.
It was addressed to Nathaniel.
With hesitant fingers, Nathaniel unfolded the letter and began to read:
"My dearest Nathaniel,
If you are reading this, my heart has finally failed me—or perhaps, I have finally chosen to end this miserable existence behind these concrete walls.
I know you hate me. I know you view me as a monster who tried to tear your life apart. But everything I did, Nathaniel, I did to protect you from the truth.
You believe you won. You believe you uncovered all the secrets of the Pierce family. You believe Arthur is your heroic father who returned from the dead to save you.
How blind you are, my son.
Ask Arthur why he really went to Europe seven years ago. Ask him about the secondary trust account in Zurich—the one labeled 'Project Prometheus'. Ask him why he really paid Dr. Vance three million dollars ten years ago, long before I ever stepped foot into Saint Jude’s Clinic.
You think you are Arthur Pierce's son, Nathaniel?
Look at the DNA records from the Zurich safe deposit box again. Look at the date of your birth.
The game was never between me and Grant. The game was always between Arthur... and the man who truly built Pierce & Vale.
Beware the return of the king, Nathaniel. He is coming for the baby.
— Vivian"
Nathaniel’s breath hitched. The paper trembled violently in his hand.
Look at the DNA records from the Zurich safe deposit box again.
Nathaniel rushed over to his office wall safe. His heart hammered against his ribs as he punched in the master code, swung the heavy steel door open, and pulled out the original certified trust documents Arthur had brought back from Switzerland three months ago.
He flipped frantically past the corporate deeds, past the property titles, straight to the back section containing the sealed family genealogical records.
There, tucked behind Arthur Pierce’s birth certificate, was a secondary lab report from an elite genetics clinic in Geneva, dated thirty years ago—the year Nathaniel was born.
Nathaniel’s eyes scanned down the page until they hit the official results line at the bottom:
PATERNAL COMPATIBILITY TEST: ARTHUR PIERCE - 0.0% (EXCLUDED).
Nathaniel’s eyes widened in absolute horror. The room seemed to spin out of control.
May you like
Arthur Pierce was not his biological father.
Before Nathaniel could digest the terrifying revelation, a loud sound echoed from the outdoor terrace—the sudden, violent shattering of glass, followed by a sharp, terrified scream from Maribel.
