Chapter 4: You Need An Heir

EVANDER 

I leaned over, fingers barely brushing the barbell as Carter pressed upward. His face was scrunched and red—making him look even more annoying than usual. 

He needed to learn his limits, but that’s why I was here, spotting his ass as always. 

“Come on, man. Push it,” I sighed, feeling impatient. 

“I’m…trying…,” he breathed heavily. 

I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “You should have picked the lighter weight.” 

He sucked in a breath, veins popping against his skin, but the weight stayed put. 

I watched, unbothered, letting him struggle a bit longer before intervening. 

It was part of the process, making them sweat it out. Helped build character.

Just as I stepped in to lift the weight, my phone buzzed in my pocket. 

I pulled it out, glancing at the screen. 

Dad. 

I groaned and held in the urge to press the decline button. However, I knew better than to ignore it. 

I nodded at Carter, signaling that I had his back for a second, and answered.

“Evander,” came the familiar voice, brisk and businesslike. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“You know Barry’s son, right? He is a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. Well, he just had a child! A daughter.”

I sighed quietly. I already knew how this conversation was going to go. 

“That’s...nice, I guess?” I said, still holding the bar with one hand while Carter grunted beneath it, struggling.

“A son would’ve been better, but hey, it’s a start.” 

“Dad,” I warned, feeling annoyed. 

“Well, well. You can’t really choose those things, can you? Anyway, I called you because of this. You need an heir soon, too, you know.”

“Dad, I’m 25.”

He let out a deep chuckle. 

“And? I was 24 when I had you. Look where I am now. Retired early, living comfortably. You should follow in my footsteps.”

I clicked my tongue, finally giving in as Carter let out a desperate, “Bro, seriously!” 

I lifted the bar with ease and racked it back, rolling my eyes at him.

“Thanks, man,” Carter wheezed, collapsing against the bench. “Thought you were gonna let me die there.”

“Maybe next time,” I said dryly, stepping back to let him breathe. He gave me a side-eye, catching his breath as I finished up with my dad.

“We’ll talk about this later, Dad,” I said, cutting him off before he could launch into another lecture about family legacies and heirs. 

He always had a way of timing these calls when I was at the gym—like he knew I couldn’t escape.

“You should start thinking about it now, Evander,” he insisted. “You’ve got everything else figured out—business, money, the right connections. All you’re missing is a family.”

“Yeah, I got it,” I muttered, already pulling the phone away from my ear as he initiated into his usual rant about legacy. 

I hung up, turning back to Carter, who was grinning like an idiot.

“Let me guess,” Carter said, sitting up and wiping sweat from his forehead. His face was still red like a tomato. However, he couldn't even lift the weight for more than ten seconds. 

“The old man wants grandkids.”

“Same old, same old.” I shrugged. “He’s like a broken record.”

With that, I carried the weight that Carter struggled to lift and replaced it with heavier ones. 

Carter looked at me before sighing. “Ah, such perfect genes are wasted on a cold guy like you.” 

“Shut up,” I deadpanned, asking him to lie down once again. 

He settled on the lifting bench and then asked a question. 

“Is that why you’re dating Heather?” he asked, smirking as he leaned back against the bench.

“You know it’s not.” 

My voice turned colder after his accusation. 

Heather was there when everything was falling apart and I could barely drag myself out of bed. She’s been the one constant, even when I didn’t deserve it.

Carter raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Then why don’t you ask her for it? She loves you—at least, I think she does.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at him, then glanced away. 

“She’s still in school,” I said finally. “She’s finishing her course.”

“Right,” Carter said slowly, like he didn’t buy it. He was always too perceptive for his own good. “Or is it because of you? Are you not ready?”

I snorted. “Of course I’m ready.”

“Is it because you’re still thinking about Jul—”

I cut him off with a glare, stepping back from the bench and crossing my arms. “Don’t,” I warned.

Carter’s smirk faltered, and he held up his hands in surrender, eyes wide. “Alright, alright. My bad. Chill, man.”

I shook my head, turning away from him. “You’re on your own for the next set.”

“Anders! Bro, come on!”

Ignoring his protests, I headed for the showers. 

The water scalded, and I let it, leaning my head against the tiles. Carter always had to push his luck—bringing up things better left buried. 

He didn’t get it. 

He couldn’t understand what happened back then. 

I closed my eyes, the spray beating against my neck, trying to drown out the memories.

When I got out, some girl was eyeing me from across the gym. I could feel her gaze on my back. I shot her a brief look but shook my head and walked past. 

Not interested.

Outside, the sky was cloudy, the kind of dull gray that swallowed the sun. 

I got into my car, the familiar rumble of the engine soothing me as I drove to Heather’s school. The traffic was light, and it didn’t take long before I spotted her by the gate.

She looked pretty as always—hair tied back, a slight smile on her lips as she scrolled through her phone. 

She saw my car and waved. With that, I parked my car in front of her and got out. I smiled as I walked toward her, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Let’s go?” I softly said. 

She nodded with a smile. 

However, at that moment, I felt a prickly sensation on the side of my face—like someone was staring at us. 

With that, I turned my gaze to the side, feeling my heart stop.