Lucas stood in the kitchen doorway, water still clinging to his hoodie sleeves, sneakers wet from the ride over. The familiar scent of ginger and scallion congee filled the space, but something in the air had shifted. Not the smell. The silence.
His mother's hands were steady on the ladle, but her eyes weren't on the pot. They were on him.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Tell me."
Diana Pan turned off the burner. The soft click echoed like punctuation. She set the ladle aside and folded her hands in front of her.
"I should've told you a long time ago," she said, not looking at him at first. "But timing… there's never a good time for this. Just moments that are less bad than others."
Lucas gave a dry smile. "We're doing riddles now?"
She smiled, briefly, then exhaled.
"You know your father—Jun—was a good man."
"He was the best."
"He was also… never meant to be your father in the traditional sense."
Lucas blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she said, finally looking him in the eye, "that he loved you deeply, but he didn't create you. Not biologically."
His arms crossed. "So who did?"
There was a long pause.
"Cyrus Han," she said softly.
It took him a second to register the name.
When he did, he almost laughed. "Cyrus Han? That Cyrus Han?"
She nodded.
Lucas stared at her, searching for a tell. Some sign she was making a very dark joke. But there was none.
She pressed on, her voice softer now.
"I met him when I was twenty-seven. I was teaching English part-time, living with a friend, trying to get my life stable. He was—already a whirlwind. All brilliance and momentum. Not just successful—becoming the man he'd eventually be known as."
Lucas didn't speak.
"We weren't a fling," she said. "We were… intense. We had a few years together. Not secret, but not public. I couldn't fit into his world. Not really. And he—he couldn't slow down long enough to meet me in mine."
Her eyes turned inward as if watching something far away.
"He tried. We took three trips together when you were little. You were three the first time. He took us to a lakeside villa in Suzhou. You liked the koi fish more than the boat. Then again when you were five—he rented a small place near Jeju Island. You built sandcastles while he answered phone calls."
She gave a quiet smile.
"And the last one, when you were seven. It was supposed to be for your birthday. He brought you a toy robot you didn't like. Remember that?"
Lucas blinked. "With the red eyes?"
"You said it looked like it would kill you in your sleep."
He gave a small huff of a laugh.
"I buried that thing in the backyard," he murmured.
She nodded. "I know. I found it a week later under the flowerbed."
He leaned against the counter, heart thudding somewhere behind his ribs. "So… what happened?"
Diana looked down at her hands.
"Cyrus was the kind of person who could only move in one direction at a time. When he worked, he worked. He didn't multitask. Didn't balance. He had momentum—and there was only ever room for one priority. That's why we ended. He told me, plainly: he could either be who he needed to be for the world, or who I needed him to be for us. But not both."
Lucas swallowed. "And you… what? Just let him go?"
"I loved him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I knew what I couldn't be. I didn't belong in that world of private jets and boardrooms and shadows. I didn't want to raise you in a spotlight that burned. I wanted peace. I wanted a home."
Her fingers traced the edge of the counter.
"And then I met Helen."
Lucas raised his head. "Aunt Helen?"
She smiled softly. "Yes. That Helen."
There was no hesitation in her voice now. Only truth.
"She and I—fell into each other slowly. Quietly. We built something calm. Steady. She never asked me to hide anything, and I didn't need to ask her to stay. We agreed not to tell you until you were old enough, and then, well... it never felt like the right moment."
Lucas processed it all in silence. The warm kitchen. The truth buried inside years of small family vacations. The kind of love that didn't perform, just lived.
"And Jun?" he finally asked.
"He knew everything. About Cyrus. About Helen. We were a household, Lucas. Unusual, maybe, but filled with love. You had three parents, in different ways."
He looked down. "I thought I had Two. And one… aunt."
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I never wanted you to feel lied to. Just protected. You were so happy. So full of life. I didn't want you tangled in other people's regrets."
Lucas rubbed his temples. His brain felt full, but also hollow.
"So what now?" he said.
She reached into the drawer and pulled out an envelope. Thick, cream-colored, sealed in gold. His name was printed in serif type on the front.
"This came yesterday."
Lucas took it. Held it like a fragile artifact. "What is it?"
"Cyrus's final will. You've been named."
He stared at her.
"Named what?"
"The heir," she said. "To everything."
He blinked. "Everything?"
"His entire personal estate. Control shares of Han Global. A private AI system—something experimental. And a vault of assets not even his board knew existed. The attorneys said it's all detailed inside."
Lucas looked back at the envelope, then set it down carefully, like it might detonate.
"Why?"
Diana shrugged. "Maybe because he didn't leave much else behind. Maybe because you're his only child. Or maybe, after all his noise and power and distance, he realized he wanted one thing in his life that was real."
Lucas ran a hand over his face. "And now I'm supposed to what—run a company? Play king of the tower?"
She gave a sad smile. "You're not the first man to inherit something impossible."
He exhaled. "I don't even know who I am in that world."
"Maybe it's time you found out."
Silence filled the space between them.
She reached for the ladle again and poured congee into two bowls. Lucas watched the steam rise. It was the same food he'd grown up on. The same scent. But something fundamental had shifted.
As she placed the bowl in front of him, she looked at him the way she used to when he was injured—quietly, steadily, waiting for him to say how much it really hurt.
"Eat first," she said. "Then decide what comes next."
Lucas nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.
He picked up the spoon.
And let the envelope sit beside him.