Chapter 2 The Weight of a Dying Wish

"Ezra Bennett in critical condition!"

The headlines had barely hit the airwaves before they spread across New York like dry leaves catching fire. Every major news station, every gossip blog, even business analysts began whispering predictions.

Bennett Industries might never remain the same again.

Back at the mansion, the atmosphere was far from sorrowful. Esther Bennett sat on the arm of the grand leather chair in the sitting room, sipping freshly brewed tea. Her eyes didn't show worry. In fact, they glistened with something clearly as an opportunity for her.

She tried to keep her expression flat for Zoe's sake, but her mind was already travelling fast; bank accounts, properties, the shares in Ezra's name. Her heartbeat quickened not from concern, but from excitement. With Ezra finally out of the way, she would step in fully as the matriarch. His absence meant space-space to seize control, space to get her hands on everything he'd once shielded from her.

She took another sip and allowed herself a small, tight smile.

Zoe, however, was not smiling. She paced the living room slowly, her shoes making soft sounds on the marble floor.

Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, but the confidence she usually wore like perfume had started to crack.

Her father was many things-a force, a protector, a shield against boardroom storms. But now, with him in a hospital bed, the reality was beginning to settle like cold water in her bones.

Without him, everything could fall apart.

She wasn't worried about his health in the way most daughters would be. Her panic came from the looming fear that the company, Bennett Industries, might slip through her fingers. Investors would panic, business partners would question her capability, and the media? They would rip her apart.

For the first time in her life, Zoe felt powerless.

In all this chaos, Jordan said nothing.

He was outside, finishing the last of the cars he couldn't wash the night before. The mop in his hand moved slowly over the roof of the black SUV, but his mind wasn't really on the task. The news of Ezra's collapse had hit him harder than anyone in that house could imagine.

To them, Ezra was a man to impress or exploit.

But to Jordan, Ezra was the only person who ever gave him something close to family.

He had saved him from nothingness. Given him a name, a life, a chance.

As Jordan wiped the last window, he heard the front door open.

"Jordan!" Esther's voice rang out like a bell with no warmth.

He turned and stood still.

"We're heading to the hospital," she said, her voice sharp as always. "Before I return, make sure this entire house is clean. And go into my room, pick the clothes I dropped on the bed, and wash them. Not a single one should remain dirty by the time I come back."

Jordan nodded once. He didn't trust himself to speak.

************************

At the hospital, the air was heavy. Machines beeped softly around Ezra's bed. His face was pale, his lips dry. Tubes ran across his arms and chest, and nurses moved quietly in and out of the room.

Zoe stood by the window with her arms folded. Esther sat stiffly at the edge of the chair beside the bed, her handbag clutched tightly.

Ezra's eyes opened slowly. His gaze swept the room. When he didn't see Jordan, his heart dropped.

In the past, no matter how tired or unnoticed, it was Jordan who came to sit with him. Jordan who brought soup in a flask. Jordan who asked if he needed an extra pillow. Jordan who stayed even when he wasn't asked.

Now, Ezra's lips moved.

"Where... is Jordan?" he whispered.

Zoe froze. Her back straightened.

"He's... he's occupied at home," she replied, quickly forcing a smile. "We didn't want to stress him."

Ezra turned his eyes to her. The sharpness in his gaze returned, even if just for a second. He knew she was lying.

"Call him," he said, firmer this time. "Now. Both of you... treat him like the human being that he is. That boy means more to this family than either of you have ever tried to understand."

Esther was just about to grumble something under her breath when the door creaked open.

Jordan stepped in quietly.

His eyes scanned the room, then landed on the hospital bed.

He had never seen Ezra like this. Not weak. Not surrounded by tubes. Not fighting for breath. His throat tightened as he approached, slowly, uncertain.

Esther opened her mouth, clearly about to scold him for leaving the chores unfinished, but she held back. Something in Jordan's face warned her this wasn't the time.

Ezra's eyes lit up the moment he saw him.

He shifted. His arms moved. In a strength that shocked everyone, he pushed himself upright, the machines beeping in protest.

"Sir, wait!" the nurse cried, rushing forward.

But Ezra was already sitting up, staring directly at Jordan with a kind of fire no one expected from a man who was half-dead just moments ago.

"Please..." Ezra said, waving Esther and Zoe off with a tired hand. "Give us a moment."

Zoe hesitated. Esther opened her mouth to argue, but one stern look from Ezra silenced them both. They stepped out quietly.

Jordan walked closer. His heart beating faster than normal.

The man lying before him had given him everything. And now he looked so... close to the end.

Ezra reached for his hand.

"Jordan," he whispered, his voice soft but sure. "I don't know how long I have. But there's something I need to say before it's too late."

Jordan's eyes stung.

"Don't say that, sir-"

"No, let me finish," Ezra said gently. "All my life, I've built this company, this legacy. I've poured everything into it. But the only person who has ever been loyal to me, without asking for anything... is you."

Jordan stood still, trembling.

"I want you to take over my company, Jordan. Every single asset I have. When I'm gone... I want it all to be yours. Would you do me the favour to accept this offer?"

The room went silent, except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.