The first thing the biological son of my millionaire father demanded, after finally being found, was that I be thrown out: “He’s been squatting in my spot for so long. You need to dump him in the backwoods to suffer all the misery I did.” I didn’t react, only offering him a polite, small smile. Seeing the complete lack of response from anyone in the lavish room, the 'prodigal son' grew frantic. “If you don’t agree, I’m walking right back out that door and I’m never coming home!” My parents, Rick and Elizabeth Harrington, exchanged a pained glance, then awkwardly addressed their newfound child. “Well, darling... how about you just stay out for a little while longer then?” At that, the prodigal son was utterly stunned. 1 The wealthy adoptive father I had known all my life, Richard Harrington, finally located the son who had been abducted twenty years prior. He personally led a convoy of dozens of security personnel, a grand spectacle, to bring the real son from some rural backwater back to the heart of the city. Rick had reserved the most exclusive ballrooms in Newport, throwing a massive banquet for the entire city, a singular celebration for the return of his flesh and blood. And yet, the biological son, Jaxson Harrington, was anything but joyful. He wore a sullen scowl, the latest-model smartphone Rick had just bought him clutched in his hand. The aggressive sound effects of a battle royale game, punctuated by his casual stream of profanity, echoed relentlessly through the private room. My parents and I, and the numerous guests, were a study in discomfort. My mother, Elizabeth, a woman known for her gentle Southern charm, leaned in to remind him softly: “Honey, today is a beautiful day to celebrate your homecoming. Why don’t you pause your game and say hello to the uncles and business partners here?” Jaxson acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Mom gently patted his shoulder to get his attention. That was a mistake. Jaxson exploded, roughly shoving her hand away. “What the hell, are you blind? Can’t you see I’m mid-fight? If I lose this match, are you gonna pay for it?” The atmosphere in the room froze solid. The celebratory mood instantly evaporated. The forced smile that had been plastered on Rick’s face finally cracked. He slammed his fork down on the table. “Jaxson Harrington, that is no way to speak to your mother! Apologize to her immediately, and then acknowledge your elders.” Jaxson’s face was a mask of sneering contempt. “Acknowledge them? What’s there to say to a bunch of geriatric old guys with one foot in the grave? Wish them an early retirement?” Every person at the table stiffened, their expressions souring. Just then, the phone blared DEFEAT. Jaxson let out a frustrated grunt and hurled the expensive phone onto the table. “This is all your damn fault. I had that match won.” My parents were too shocked to speak. The other guests were too polite, or too stunned, to intervene. Jaxson, however, seemed entirely immune to embarrassment. He glanced around, snatched a fork, and plunged them straight into the most expensive dish on the table—a whole-roasted high quality beef ribs. He aggressively dismantled the ribs, shredding it to pieces as he searched for the tenderest belly meat. Only after the plate was a wreck did he finally manage to scoop a piece onto his own plate. Mouth full, he chewed loudly, eyes narrowed at the stunned guests. He spoke through the food: “What? Got a problem? Tough luck. I got kidnapped and raised in a shithole. This is how we ate out there.” The moment he brought up his traumatic kidnapping, the anger in my parents’ eyes softened slightly. They were instantly defenseless. Mom pursed her lips and reached out, delicately placing a few more dishes on Jaxson’s plate. “We finally found you, darling. Our family is whole now. We’ll just put this behind us and be a family.” Rick’s expression also eased. “That’s right, your mother is right. We’re all together now. If you want to go to school, we’ll pay to send you overseas. If you don’t, you can start shadowing Logan and learn how to run the business.” “Learn from him? Is he even qualified?” Jaxson spat a small piece of rib bone, mixed with chewed food, onto the table. His gaze landed on me, full of rage and scorn. 2 “Logan Harrington? You’re just the replacement they picked up after I got snatched, right?” My parents exchanged worried looks, their brows furrowing simultaneously. “Replacement? Logan is your brother!” Rick insisted. “My brother?” Jaxson’s voice rose to a yell. “Does he share blood with me? No. So how is he my brother? What, did one of you cheat and bring a stray home?” I’d heard enough. I decided to step in, my tone even and measured. “It’s true that I’m adopted, but I’m not some ‘stray,’ and I hold no malice toward you, Jaxson. There’s no need for this animosity.” “No malice?” His gaze turned deeply cynical. “What the hell. You’ve got your hands all over my family’s fortune, and you’re telling me you have no malice?” I let out a tired sigh. “I’m not interested in your fortune. You can spend some time learning the ropes at the company, and as soon as you’re ready, I’ll hand the whole thing over to you.” Jaxson’s aggressive demeanor softened a fraction. He looked me over suspiciously, trying to gauge if I was telling the truth. But my parents panicked first. “Logan, you can’t be impulsive like that!” Rick protested. “You’re our son too, and this company wouldn’t be what it is today without you. You absolutely deserve a share!” Jaxson’s face, which had just begun to relax, tightened with renewed fury. “See? See! The whole family is ganging up with the stray to sideline me! Maybe there’s no point in me coming back to this house after all.” He pointed a finger at Rick and Liz. “You lost me back then, and I suffered for twenty years. Instead of figuring out how to make it up to me, you’re taking the side of an outsider! Are you trying to make yourselves a laughingstock?” Rick’s jaw was tight. “Listen to yourself! Logan is your brother. Without his hard work over the years, this business would have failed years ago! And was it your mother’s fault or mine that you were lost? You climbed over the school fence to go play games, and a trafficker snatched you up. How could we have prevented that?” Jaxson sneered. “Look at that, all the excuses are lined up and ready. Do you have any idea what I suffered? You feel zero guilt, and now you’re plotting with an outsider to bully me?” He slammed his fist on the table. “I was chopping hog feed in a filthy pen while you were throwing lavish parties. I was sweating in the fields while you were probably using hundred-dollar bills as tissues, right? I don’t care how you try to deny it, you owe me!” Rick let out a deep, defeated sigh. “Fine. Starting tomorrow, you’ll come into the company. You’ll begin as the Director of Market Relations. If you can actually deliver results, we’ll talk. You’re my son, I won’t shortchange you.” Jaxson was not satisfied. He jutted out his chin and yelled: “No! Don’t take me for an idiot! I know the Chairman is the biggest deal. I want the title of Chairman, or I’ll cut off all ties with you right now!” 3 Rick’s face turned black with fury. “Stop this nonsense! The company is not a toy. It provides paychecks for thousands of people, and you will not casually dismantle it for sport.” I saw the volatile atmosphere between father and son, and the circle of important company partners and family friends watching the spectacle, utterly mortified. I had to intervene. “How about this,” I suggested smoothly. “We allocate a substantial sum for Jaxson to start his own venture. If, within one year, Jaxson can build his company into a successful enterprise, that will prove his capability. We can then discuss transferring the family business to him. It wouldn’t be too late.” Jaxson looked thoughtful for a change, clearly mulling over the proposition. Rick, however, looked guilt-ridden. “Logan, wouldn’t that be completely unfair to you?” I offered a slight smile. “The decades of kindness and guidance you and Mom have given me are something I will always be grateful for. This is the least I can do.” “But…” Before Rick could protest further, Jaxson eagerly jumped in, worried they might back out. “Deal! You can’t back out of this!” I nodded, maintaining my smile. “Absolutely not.” With the agreement in place, Jaxson didn't cause any more scenes that night. But word of everything that happened at the banquet—the cursing, the beef, the demands—leaked out, and our family instantly became the primary source of gossip in all of Newport. Rick was so incensed he broke several antique vases. Mom, equally distraught, suffered a panic attack and had to be admitted to the hospital. Jaxson, however, was completely indifferent to their suffering. He was too busy demanding the initial startup capital from Rick. He dove headfirst into scouting locations, buying equipment, and hiring a ragtag crew. The health and well-being of the parents he had supposedly longed for seemed entirely absent from his daily considerations. I, meanwhile, was running a constant circuit: home, hospital, headquarters. I was so exhausted I barely had a moment to breathe. Jaxson hadn’t shown his face at the house or the hospital since he secured the money. It got to the point where Rick, suffering in his guilt, asked me in a quiet moment of pain: “Do you think I made a mistake bringing him back?” What could I say? I kept the forced smile in place and offered soft reassurance. “He’s just returned home, Dad. He’s still adjusting. Give him a couple of years. Once he matures and settles down, everything will be fine.” Each time, Rick’s gaze drifted to a distant point on the ceiling. “I hope so. God, I hope so.” 4 Despite the chaos at home, I dared not neglect the company’s operations. I was frequently at the office until the early hours, collapsing into bed only to wake up and do it all again. I had been managing the company single-handedly for years. Mom’s health had declined, leading to frequent hospital stays. Rick was constantly strained, trying to care for her while dealing with his own emotional turmoil. Add to that his lack of a strategic mind and his quick temper, and business trips without Mom to anchor him often ended in shouted arguments and lost contracts. As the family’s fortunes began to dwindle, I was forced to step up and take the reins. Now that Jaxson was here, I genuinely hoped he would rise to the occasion and ease my burden, finally allowing me some private time. Unfortunately, Jaxson completely misinterpreted my goodwill. The second time I saw him after the banquet was at the hospital. He had dragged his old cronies from the village into our house, where they had loudly smashed things up. Rick, enraged by the noise and destruction, suffered a hypertensive crisis and was hospitalized. Jaxson and his so-called 'crew' followed us, relentless, all the way to the hospital. He confronted me right outside the intensive care unit, eyes blazing with anger. “If Mitch hadn’t warned me, I never would have seen through your scheme!” I let out a small, tired sigh. Immediately, his voice escalated. “See! See that! You’re guilty! You’re speechless! The startup idea was a trick, wasn't it? It was just a delay tactic so you could consolidate power and force me out of the company!” A nurse chose that moment to exit Rick’s room, informing us he was awake. Jaxson immediately shoved the nurse aside and stormed in. “You old bastard, you’re truly a piece of work, trying to screw over your own son!” “What startup? That was just a way to buy time for this stray to get a permanent grip on the company!” “You knew what a miserable life I had! Pigpens were stinking, and I had to feed them every day! The fields were soaking with dew every morning, and I had to be out there weeding! All my suffering is your fault! How dare you stand here with zero remorse and zero guilt?” Rick had just been revived from his collapse; he was frail, his face stark white. He weakly waved a hand. “Just tell me what you want, Jaxson. How much money do you need?” Jaxson didn’t hesitate. He pointed a finger straight at me. “I don’t want money! I want you to send him right now to that village, to live the miserable life I lived! I want him to spend the rest of his days farming and feeding hogs, dying alone in some shack!” Rick slammed his hand, hard, on the bed rail. “Jaxson, you have gone too far!” “Too far?” Jaxson let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. “You call me too far? I’m the biggest victim here! What’s wrong with asking for compensation?” He leaned in close to the bed. “Old man, listen up. This is non-negotiable. You send him away today, or we are done. I cut you off!” Rick was seized by a fit of coughing, the anger shaking his fragile body. “Fine. You said it. As of today, I have no son named Jaxson.” 5 Rick’s single sentence cut through the noise, leaving the chaotic hospital room abruptly silent. Jaxson turned his head toward the bed, utterly disbelieving. “What did you say?” Rick coughed again, then repeated the words, slowly and deliberately. “I said, starting today, we are finished. I no longer have a son named Jaxson.” Jaxson looked genuinely panicked. “You… you can’t do that! You’re the one who failed me! You owe me! What right do you have to say that?” Rick refused to engage further, simply closing his eyes in exhausted pretense. The group of toughs with their garishly colored hair, who had followed Jaxson, finally showed a flicker of sense. They rushed forward, trying to mediate. “Come on, family is family. Don’t talk like that, it hurts feelings.” “Jax is just putting on a tough front, sir. Deep down, he cares a lot! He was just saying how great his parents are the other day.” “Yeah, he’s always dreamed of coming home. He’s just insecure right now, testing you. Mr. Harrington, don’t take it personally.” Rick remained motionless, eyes shut. The hangers-on eventually gave up. “Mr. Harrington, you’re not feeling well today, so we won’t disturb you. We’ll come back with Jax tomorrow.” Rick still didn't utter a word. Jaxson scoffed, waved a dismissive hand, and led his loud entourage out of the room. Only after the door clicked shut did Rick open his eyes. I realized they were swimming with tears. He let out a heavy, guttural sigh. “A curse on this house.” Tears streamed down his aged face. When I finally stepped out of the room, once Rick had drifted off to sleep, I was surprised to find Jaxson waiting outside. I raised an eyebrow. Was the prodigal son finally having a pang of conscience? The answer was immediate. He lunged forward and grabbed a handful of my shirt collar. “You listen to me, you hear? He and I are blood. The bond can’t be broken. He only said he’d cut me off because he was mad. Don't you dare think you can steal the throne, understand?” It took me a moment to process the crude metaphor. “It’s called usurpation,” I corrected mildly. “I don’t care what it’s called! The inheritance is mine and mine alone. I’m telling you now, as the sole heir: tomorrow, I’m coming in for a corporate inspection!” I shrugged noncommittally. Then, thinking I should offer a genuine word of advice, I spoke: “I have more important things to do eventually, Jaxson. The family’s assets will be yours. Instead of wasting time battling me, you should focus on developing some skill and showing our parents some respect.” Jaxson scoffed, completely ungrateful. “I don’t need lessons from you. You’re just a dog on a leash for this family!” 6 The next morning, just as he had promised, Jaxson arrived at the Harrington Enterprises headquarters. He swaggered through the main entrance. “I’m the heir to this place! Everyone, stop what you’re doing and come pay your respects!” Silence. A long, thick silence. No one responded. Only the security guard stationed nearby shifted awkwardly, clearly debating whether to escort him out. Jaxson’s face darkened. “You don’t believe I can fire you all?” Still, silence. One of his scruffy friends hurried over and whispered something in his ear. Jaxson nodded, satisfied, and stomped further into the building. I waved off the security guard who was approaching, then walked over to face Jaxson. Jaxson maintained his arrogant, look-down-his-nose posture. “I’m here to inspect and give you all some much-needed direction. Why hasn't this company grown into the largest in the world yet? Why isn't my dad the richest man on earth? Because your abilities are holding us back!” Hearing this, several of the colleagues who had gathered to watch the spectacle gaped in shock. I fought back a smile, keeping my expression neutral. “And what changes would Young Master Jaxson suggest?” Jaxson walked into the open-plan office, looking utterly self-important. He suddenly pointed at a pristine white desk. “The walls are white, the desks are white—it’s depressing! Replace everything with red! Red brings good fortune, it attracts wealth!” A colleague nearby muttered under her breath. “He wants to turn the office into a crime scene? If he doesn’t know anything, maybe he shouldn’t give orders.” The complaint wasn't quiet. Jaxson and his crew clearly heard it. His face momentarily froze, then he huffed dismissively. “Fine. I suppose replacing the desks now would be wasteful. You can settle for white, for now.” His first piece of advice had been mocked, and he clearly felt humiliated. He quickly grabbed a passing colleague’s stack of files and offered a second suggestion. “White paper with black letters? Who wants to read this garbage? Make them all color-coded! Put some cartoons on the side!” The colleagues holding the documents stared at Jaxson, dumbfounded. “But… these are professional contracts. Nobody uses colored ink and cartoons for corporate documents.” Being contradicted a second time enraged Jaxson. He slammed his hand on a nearby desk. “I am the heir to this company! You will listen to me! I say what goes! If I tell you to use color, you use color! If I tell you to print cartoons, you print cartoons! Make them red background with yellow text, and put a Dilbert comic on the margin!” (I mentally substituted an American equivalent for the cartoon he mentioned.) Seeing the colleagues hesitate, Jaxson grew frantic. “Why are you all standing still? Do you want me to fire you right now?” The colleague holding the files looked desperately at me. I nodded slowly. “Please do as Young Master Jaxson instructs.” 7 The colleague sighed, but complied. Thirty minutes later, she returned with a stack of garishly printed, absurdly colorful documents. I smiled benignly at Jaxson. “Are these to your satisfaction?” Jaxson accepted the thick stack, his eyes gleaming with a look of smug entitlement. He flipped through, pausing to admire the printed comic strip. “This is how people will want to read documents!” “Now, quickly, send these materials to our partners.” “But…” Jaxson, seeing the colleague’s hesitation, flew into another rage. “What? Are you saying you look down on me? Did you just print these to humor me? I am the sole heir, and I just gave you a brilliant idea for the company’s expansion! You’re not going to use them?” I intervened, raising my voice to instruct the colleague. “I believe these are the files Mr. Caldwell was waiting for. Please scan them immediately and send them over. Let’s see what Mr. Caldwell thinks.” Jaxson’s triumphant smirk was impossible to hide. “Scan them, scan them! Let them see real talent! The company can only grow under my leadership! Who reads documents that look like high school textbooks, anyway?” The colleague scanned and sent the files. Moments later, her phone rang.
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