The Hidden Billionaire's Son

, and the hum of a car engine filled the air. He was under a beat-up sedan, wrench in hand, tightening a bolt that refused to coope

m the front of the shop. Tony was a big guy with a loud voi

coveralls stained with grime. The clock on the wall read 4:45 p.m. He had fifteen minutes before his shift

wasn't much, but it was his world. He'd been fixing cars since he was sixteen, learning from his mom's friend who owned a shop down th

h it didn't do much. His phone buzzed in

Ethan. Leftovers in

hospital. At fifty, she was still a nurse, still putting others first. Ethan typed a quick reply: Got it, Mom. Lo

best friend, a lanky guy with a quick grin and a guitar case always slung over his shoul

d, splashing water on his f

You should come, man.

. "Can't. Got delive

ourself, bro. Two jobs, no sleep

He grabbed his jacket, a worn-out denim thing that ba

a mock salute

court, cars honking, and the smell of fried food from the corner diner. He walked fast, his sneakers scuffing the sidewalk.

ght. Inside, it was small but clean, with Sarah's touch everywhere with photos of Ethan as a kid, a knitted blanket on the couch,

lling over her shoulder, her arm around his waist. He was grinning like an idiot, thinking they'd be forever. Then she l

-minute bike ride. He pedaled hard, weaving through traffic, the cold air biting his face. By the time he got

le don't tip if their

ds, dodging potholes, handing over pizzas with a forced smile. The tips were okay, enough to cover rent and maybe

arked out front and music spilling onto the street. A sign read: South Side Aid Fundraiser. Ethan

To

e wore a simple sweater, but she looked... radiant. Ethan froze. Ava was his high school crush, the girl who'd always bee

t budge. Ava turned, her eyes catching his. Sh

rey?" she calle

s voice rougher than he

le was warm, real. "You

sweaty shirt and greasy hands. "Y

ays working hard, even back in sc

" He gestured to his bike. "What

l worker now. We're raising money for

t people. In high school, she'd been the one organizing food dri

she said. "Grab some f

talk, but his phone buzzed with

"Okay, but don't be a stranger

han he could say. He hopped on his bike, p

iked home. The apartment was quiet when he got in. Sarah was asleep, her nurse's scrubs folded nea

lier. His name was written on it in neat handwriting, no return address. H

Mr.

essman who wishes to meet you regarding a matter of great importance. Please contact my offic

cer

rt K

r heard the name. New York? That was a world away from his life of grease and pizza boxes. He tu

ought of Sarah, who'd never mentioned anyone named Victor. Was this a scam? A mi

iver pizzas, take care of Mom. This letter was trouble, he could feel it. But cu

ybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a mistake. But deep down, he knew it

d to bed, Ava's smile and the let