RENT A HEART

CHRISTOPHER's POV

I drove straight to the family estate. It was the first time I'd been back in seventeen years. Nostalgia hit me hard as I pulled up to the mansion, surprised by how vividly I remembered the place.

Alonso, his face beaming, greeted me as I stepped out of the car. He rushed forward, engulfing me in a hug.

"Christopher! I never thought I'd see the day you returned," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"How are you, Alonso?" I asked, returning the hug briefly as we walked inside.

"Oh, I'm very well, young master," he replied. "I'll inform your father of your arrival right away." He turned to leave, but I stopped him.

"No, don't. This is a surprise." I headed towards the elevator, my feet instinctively leading me to my father's study on the fourth floor.

"You need to tell your son, Leonard, before it's too late. He needs to know about your heart condition. And he needs to take the reins of Atlantis, activate the shares Luther set aside for him. Otherwise, Nexus Group's hostile takeover will succeed. He needs to protect Atlantis," a familiar voice said just as I reached the study door. It was Samuel, my uncle.

"He doesn't need the added burden of another dying parent, Samuel. I'll visit him again, try to persuade him to come back. I'll give him my fifty percent. With his thirty, he'll have majority control, and that arrogant boy's stake will be worthless," my father replied.

"You need to be alive and healthy to guide him, Leonard. Running Atlantis is arguably the most demanding job short of the presidency," Samuel said.

"Samuel, we both know it'll take a miracle to find a donor in time. I was given three months. I'm in my last." My father sighed.

"It's a shame my boy and I can't see eye to eye. I thought sending him away would toughen him up, prepare him for the real world. Well, it did. He's become a remarkable young man, accomplished so much without my name. I'm incredibly proud of him, though I'd never tell him that." A dry chuckle followed.

My heart clenched, hearing his words. My father was dying. We were about to lose the company. And he was proud of me. A strange mix of emotions warred within me. Should I be happy about his hidden affection or devastated that I was only learning of it now, on what might be his deathbed?

I took a deep breath, composing myself, and knocked on the door.

I turned the knob and walked in. My father looked genuinely surprised to see me. He rose from behind his desk, staring blankly.

"Christopher? Is that you?" he asked. It was the first time in a long time I truly looked at him, taking in every detail. He looked tired, his age showing in the streaks of white in his hair.

"Hi, Father. Hi, Uncle Samuel," I said.

Neither of them could hide their surprise.

"Can I sit?" I asked.

"Sure, sure. Sit down," my father replied, gesturing to a chair.

"Whatever brought you home must be important. What is it?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

I smiled inwardly. He was always a perceptive man.

"There's a woman I love, a woman I want to spend my life with. And it turns out our families are mortal enemies." I waited for his reaction, expecting him to understand who I meant.

"Oh, I see. Eve Mickelson, correct?" he asked. I nodded. "If I had my way, I wouldn't approve of a relationship with a Mickelson, but I know how stubborn you can be when you're passionate about something."

"Why the disapproval? And don't tell me it's business rivalry. It's deeper than that. What happened between you and the Mickelsons?"

"It's a long story," he dismissed, waving a hand.

"I have time. Please tell me," I pressed.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. "I was framed for Jamie Mickelson's murder, a brother of Adolf Mikleson, Eve's father. Went to prison for it."

"What?" I was stunned.

"I didn't kill him. I was set up," he insisted, his eyes searching mine.

"I believe you, Father," I said without hesitation.

His face lit up, a small smile playing on his lips.

"But I need to know what happened," I continued.

"Why, Christopher? So the Mickelsons will accept you as a son-in-law?" He raised an eyebrow.

"To clear your name. That's what matters most right now," I stated firmly.

He smiled again, this time a genuine, bright smile. For the first time that evening, he looked truly alive.

"Adolf, Jamie, and I were best friends and classmates in university. Your mother transferred there, and I fell in love with her instantly. She seemed to reciprocate. I didn't know Jamie also had feelings for her. He pursued her relentlessly, even after I told him I liked her. He reasoned that as long as we weren't married, he had a right to try and win her over. One day, at a party, he tried to kiss her. I punched him. It turned into a brawl, and we were both suspended for two weeks. On the last day of my suspension, I woke up to find Jamie's body… bloodied, stabbed, dead. And the murder weapon was in my hand. Long story short, I was arrested, sentenced to thirty years. President Bruce pardoned me when he came into power."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There was nothing about this online, nothing about my father's accusations.

"What about Mum? How did she marry you after all that?" I needed to know.

"Your mother… she was everything good in my life. The only one who believed me, even when my own father didn't. Though I couldn't blame him; I was a handful growing up. Your mum waited for me at the prison gates upon my release. Went against her family to marry me. Unfortunately, death stole her from me too soon," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

A sharp pain stabbed at my heart. Hearing him speak of my mother, seeing the pain in his eyes, the tears welling up, broke me. Maybe I'd been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't the hard, unfeeling man I'd always believed him to be.

"Surely there's something that could exonerate you. Evidence, witnesses…"

"I hired the best PI in the country. Dead end. The CCTV footage around the murder scene vanished."

"Then we have to find it," I said, determination hardening my voice.

"It's been years, Christopher. Let it go. If the best couldn't find it, no one can."

"As long as it exists, it can be found. Leave it to me."

"You've grown so much, Christopher," he said, a small smile gracing his lips. The closest thing to a compliment I'd ever received from him, and it warmed me more than I expected.

"Anything else you want to tell me, Father?" I asked, hoping he'd reveal what I'd overheard.

"Well, the only other pressing matter is whether you'll reconsider taking over Atlantis. As you can see, I'm getting old. I need to rest." He smiled, but a subtle sadness lingered in his voice.

I'd hoped he'd mention his health, but I wasn't surprised he hadn't. He was stubborn, always had been.

"Give me two, three days at most. I'll give you my answer."

"Really? Are you sure?" Excitement flickered in his eyes.

"Yes, Father. I should get going now." He nodded.

"Of course. Let me see you out." He started to rise, but I stopped him. I didn't want to tire him further.

"Don't worry, Father. I'll be in touch."

I left, a new purpose settling in my chest. As I drove away, I called Luca, my Mafia contact. I knew the usual channels wouldn't get me what I needed quickly enough. I had to improvise.

"Luca, where can we meet? I need your help."

"Come to the property. We'll discuss it there."

I hung up, the wheels already turning in my mind. I had a name to clear, a company to save, and a father to fight for.