Evander’s POV
"So, why are you here, son?" My father asked, his voice calm and welcoming as he gestured for to take a seat. He settled into a chair across from . His posture was relaxed, yet his sharp eyes studied closely.
His words snapped out of my thoughts. I realized I had been staring at the room, taking in the warmth of this modest but cozy ho. "Oh..." I muttered, feeling montarily awkward as I sank into the chair.
Before I could form a proper response, the young girl, Eliza, chid in eagerly. "Brother... I an, can I call you that?" she asked, her wide eyes sparkling with excitent.
The question caught off guard, and I hesitated. The word "brother" felt strange to , foreign even. I had grown up as the youngest son in the Kensington family, accustod to solitude, manipulation, and coldness. And now, here I was, face-to-face with two siblings who seed genuinely excited to et —well, at least the girl was.
"You can," I said finally as my voice was strangely softer than usual.
Her face lit up as if I had handed her the world. "Yay! I finally have an older brother who is as handso as you! Wait until my friends hear about this!" She exclaid, clapping her hands together and side-eyeing her brother.
Her enthusiasm pulled a faint smile from unknowingly, sothing that rarely happened to .
The young man, who had been silently observing, crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "Don’t let her overwhelm you. Eliza can be a bit... much," he said with a faint smirk, though his tone was teasing.
"I heard that!" she shot back, sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to . "So, what’s your favorite food? Do you like sports? Oh! What kind of music do you listen to? You have to tell everything!"
"Eliza, give him a mont," my father interjected with a chuckle. "Evander isn’t used to this."
She pouted but quieted down, giving a mont to gather my thoughts.
"I ca here because I need your help," I said, addressing my father directly. "There is a situation involving Gloria... and my son."
At the ntion of Gloria, my father’s expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it. "Go on," he said, leaning forward with interest.
I glanced briefly at Eliza and the young man, wondering how much they knew about our family’s complicated history. Still, sothing about the warmth of this place made feel like I could open up, even if only a little.
"I will explain everything," I said. "But first, I need to know—can I trust you to stand with against her?"
My father’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his answer ca without hesitation. "You can."
"How can I, Mr. Kensington?" I said, my voice laced with sarcasm and a bitter smile curling on my lips. I couldn’t bring myself to call him "father" at the mont, or maybe never!
"So, you won’t even call father now?" He sighed, leaning back on the couch, his expression unreadable. His calm deanor only stoked the fire in my chest.
The other two kids, Eliza and the young man whose na I still didn’t know, looked back and forth between us, their wide eyes betraying their confusion. They were clearly trying to piece together the tension filling the room.
"How can I call you father?" I shot back, my voice rising slightly. "You knew how much she hated you. You knew everything. And still, you left . You left in the coldest hell of the universe, a place where every second I breathed felt like dying all over again."
I clenched my fists, my knuckles white from the pressure, as the flood of mories washed over . "I beca a cold, emotionless monster. I stopped hoping and stopped dreaming. The only thing that kept grounded was my big brother. But then he was taken away from too! And even then, I waited. I waited for you to co to console even just for a second, even a word—but you...
I paused, my voice breaking, though I refused to let the tears forming in my eyes fall. "You were too busy with your new family. You didn’t bother to care about the son you left behind. Not even a single letter, a phone call—nothing."
The room fell silent, the only sound being the uneven breaths I tried to control. My father looked down, his expression softer now, though I didn’t care.
"And now..." I continued, my voice trembling, "when I finally started to want to live, when I finally tried to hold on to sothing, Gloria destroyed that too. She crushed every last piece of ! And now she is planning to take Eliam—the only thing left of my brother. The only thing that reminds of him."
Eliza shifted uncomfortably, while the young man remained quiet, his face a mixture of sympathy and shock. For the first ti, my father looked shaken.
"Evan..." he began, his voice soft but unsure.
"No, you do not deserve to call that!" I interrupted, standing abruptly. "Don’t say anything. You don’t get to make excuses. I ca here because I need your help, not your apologies. Save those for soone who cares."
"What can I help you with?" He finally stopped beating around the bush and got to the point, his tone cautious yet firm.
"It’s simple," I said, leaning forward slightly, my voice cold and unwavering. "I want the Kensington estate properties you still own. And I want you to divorce Gloria."
His eyes narrowed at my bluntness, but I didn’t stop. "For your information," I added sharply, "according to Grandma’s will, those properties cannot be passed down to your new family. Only I can hold them for the ti being."
The room fell silent for a mont before the young man— my father’s son—spoke up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Wait... what does that an? Dad, you have properties?" he asked, his voice a mix of shock and curiosity.
I didn’t bother sparing him a glance. My focus remained on the man I once longed for to have in my life, the man who had turned his back on . His face was unreadable and I didn’t know what he was thinking.
"What would you do with my properties?" he finally asked, his brows furrowed as he studied intently.
"Gloria will claim half of what you own," I said, my voice laced with disdain as I folded my arms. "So, it’s better you give everything you have from the Kensington estate. You can’t sell it, and if it falls into her hands, it will only give her more power to co back stronger. It’s better that I have it than Gloria."
His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a mont. The weight of my words hung in the air, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind.
"Is this what you ca here for?" he asked after a mont, his tone quieter but still guarded.
"Yes," I replied curtly. "If you want to make up for the years you abandoned , this is how you can start. Give the tools to protect what little I have left from her."
The young man looked between us, clearly out of his depth, while the girl, Eliza, watched silently, her earlier excitent now replaced with unease and sympathy for in her eyes.
"You have made your point," my father finally said, his voice heavy. "Let think about it."
"No," I said firmly, standing up. "This isn’t up for debate. Either you help , or you let Gloria destroy everything. The choice is yours, and I want your answer right now since I don’t have much ti left."
The room was heavy with silence, the kind that gnawed at the edges of patience. My so-called father sat there, his expression unreadable, but I could sense the storm brewing behind his calm facade. It seed he still couldn’t bring himself to leave Gloria—not out of love, but out of so twisted sense of control, a desire to keep her trapped in a relationship that had long lost its aning.
"Why would you want that?" He finally broke the silence, his tone sharp and accusing. "I have my own reasons for keeping her in this marriage."
His piercing gaze landed on , as if daring to challenge him. I let out a dry chuckle, leaning back in my seat. "Reasons?" I repeated mockingly. "Do you even hear yourself? Whatever reasons you have, they are not good enough to justify the damage she has done. To my wife and to Eliam. To everything I have fought to protect."
"She is still your mother," he said, his voice rising slightly as he attempted to defend his actions.
"She is a mother in na only," I shot back, my tone cutting. "What kind of mother destroys her own family for her gain? What kind of mother sches and manipulates to take her grandchild from his father? What kind of mother swears to kill her own child and tell him that she will make him experience the depths of the abyss? Don’t sit there and tell this is about so noble reason."
The both kids gasped at my words.
"What?" Eliza couldn’t help but ask in shock.
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Chapters had been edited! I am still sick so please forgive the ss I ended up making! Please enjoy!
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