Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 493

Alicia’s eyes burned, tears brimming and threatening to spill.

“Grandpa…” Her voice broke, barely above a whisper.

It was as if the old man had been waiting for that one word—Grandpa.

The moment Alicia called out to him, something cleared in his clouded gaze. With what little strength he had left, he slowly lifted his frail hand and clasped hers.

“Grandpa, please… get better. I just came home. I can’t lose you now.” Alicia’s voice trembled, thick with emotion.

She couldn’t bear the thought of finally returning home, only to find herself completely alone.

All those years in the orphanage, she’d dreamed again and again that her family would come for her, that she would have a real home—a place where she truly belonged.

But now that she was finally home, the house was empty. No one left but her.

The pain was sharp and deep, as though someone had driven a knife straight through her heart.

Her parents had been murdered. She’d been thrown into an orphanage by the very man who’d taken them from her. After all these years, she had made it home at last—only to find nothing but emptiness.

“Nicole…” The old man called her by the name her parents had given her.

“I’m here, Grandpa,” Alicia replied, holding his hand tightly.

It was obvious to everyone in the room that speaking was a struggle for him, and that he had so much he wanted to say to his granddaughter. But he just didn’t have the strength.

Nearby, Clayton motioned to the attorney, who began reading aloud, before everyone present, the future plans for White Corporation. Every last detail—company shares, trusts, art collections, real estate, the family estate, overseas assets—everything the White family owned, from top to bottom, was to go to Alicia.

Brandon and Jade would not receive a single cent.

“Then why isn’t he behind bars? Why hasn’t anyone called the police?” Mr. Brown was frantic.

“It’s not the right time yet,” Clayton replied in a low voice.

Brandon’s crimes went deeper than this. The hitman had confessed, but he was mentally unstable and, after so many years, hard evidence was scarce. They couldn’t risk letting Brandon slip away again. If they were going to strike, it had to be final—no second chances.

From the hallway, Brandon’s voice rang out, sobbing and wailing for effect. “Dad! I’m still your son! Please, let me see you one last time! I’m sorry, Dad, I know I was wrong!”

The old man ignored him completely, signaling the attorney to continue reading the will.

Everyone in the room—executives and even the reporters camped outside—was stunned.

Every last thing belonging to the White family, big and small, had been left to Alicia. Not even Clayton received a share.