His After The Heartbreak (BL) Chapter 15: Right Wing Man

Chapter 15- Right Wing Man

Tyler's POV

The mont he stepped outside, his chuckle followed him, low and mocking, like he was enjoying this twisted ga he was playing.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to react. Not to turn back and give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he got under my skin. He wasn't worth it.

Instead, I walked straight to my mom.

She was standing just a few steps away, wringing her hands, worry carved deep into her face. The second I reached her, I took her hands in mine, holding them tightly.

"I'm going to be okay," I said softly, looking into her tired eyes. "But if anything—anything—happens, if you hear sothing weird, if you feel unsafe, I need you to call or ssage imdiately. No hesitation."

She nodded, but her lips trembled.

"I an it, Mom," I pressed. "I love you, and I'm not letting anything happen to you."

A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye. She quickly wiped it away, but I saw it. And it gutted .

"Promise ," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Promise you'll co back."

I reached up and gently wiped the tear from her cheek with my left hand, my throat tightening.

"I promise," I said.

She exhaled shakily, giving a small, sad smile. It wasn't enough to ease my guilt.

I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back before you know it."

She nodded. "Be careful, Tyler."

I turned away before she could see the emotions swirling in my eyes.

I needed to get this over with.

—

As I stepped onto the driveway, I imdiately spotted my father or should I call him Declan? in the car, the windscreen down.

Two guards stood beside the vehicle, still and alert.

I scoffed under my breath.

Really? Guards? What, was he scared soone was going to jump him?

Miserable.

One of the guards moved to open the car door for , but before he could, I spoke.

"Don't bother," I said, my voice laced with irritation. "My hands work just fine."

Without another word, I yanked the door open myself and slid into the seat.

The mont I settled in, Declan turned to with a knowing smile.

I knew that smile.

It ant he was about to start so conversation I had no interest in.

Nope. Not happening.

Before he could even open his mouth, I pulled out my AirPods, shoved them into my ears, and blasted music.

Perfect.

No matter how loud his voice got, I wouldn't have to hear a single damn word.

I leaned back against the seat, staring out the window. The trees blurred past as we drove, their green leaves swaying under the sunlight.

For a while, my mind was blank.

No thoughts. No emotions. Just... nothing.

I didn't even realize we had arrived until Declan voice suddenly broke through the haze.

"Son! We're here."

The words jolted back to reality.

I turned to him, scowling. "Do not call that. I'm not your son."

I yanked my AirPods out, stuffed them into my pocket, and pushed the door open before he could say another word.

The guards stepped forward, leading the way as we entered the boutique.

The mont we stepped inside, a well-dressed woman rushed toward us with a wide, overly eager smile.

She bowed her head. Once. Twice. A million tis.

"Mr. Declan, welco, welco!" she gushed, her tone practically dripping with excitent. "It's an honor to have you here. Please, right this way!"

She quickly ushered us into a private area of the boutique.

Of course.

Privacy. Because my father would never be caught shopping in the presence of commoners.

Once we were seated, Declan turned to the woman, his voice filled with smug pride.

"et my son," he said, nodding toward . "He's going to be my man of honor."

I barely held back a scoff.

Oh, now I'm his son?

The sa son he abandoned? The sa son he treated like trash?

Tsk. What a joke.

The woman turned to , beaming. "You look just like your father!"

My entire body went stiff.

My father grinned, clearly pleased.

I, on the other hand, felt my skin crawl.

I turned to the woman, my expression blank. "I look nothing like him."

The smile on her face faltered. "Oh—um—I apologize, sir."

She laughed awkwardly before quickly changing the subject. "Now! Let's talk about our exclusive collection. We have a wide range of high-end suits, all custom-made with the finest materials."

She clapped her hands, and two assistants rushed forward, carrying several suits draped over their arms.

She pointed to the first one. "This is from our Imperium Collection—handcrafted Italian wool, sleek design, perfect for a refined, powerful look. This particular piece was made last season and is priced at seventy-five thousand dollars."

I blinked.

Seventy-five what?

She moved to the next suit. "Ah, and this! The Eterna Line! A tiless masterpiece. Made with rare silk imported from France, stitched with 24-karat gold thread. This one is valued at one hundred and ten thousand dollars."

I fought the urge to laugh.

One hundred and ten thousand? For a damn suit?

She continued, unfazed. "And this... This is from our Majestic Collection—our most exclusive line. Only five of these exist in the entire world. The price? Two hundred and thirty thousand dollars."

I stared at her.

Was she serious?

I turned to my father, expecting him to be just as baffled.

But he was completely unfazed.

Like dropping six figures on a damn suit was normal.

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"Hold it in," I said, cutting her off. "Show him whatever you want. As for , I'll pick what I want myself and leave. I have sowhere to be."

She opened her mouth to argue, but I was already walking away.

"Sir, with all due respect," she called after , "I insist on helping you pick. I can ensure you get the highest quality—"

I waved her off. "He might care about quality. I don't."

I didn't wait for a response.

I just walked off, heading toward the suit section.

—

I skimd through the racks, flipping through suit after suit.

Luxury. Luxury. Luxury.

Every single one scread wealth, power, and extravagance.

But none of them felt right.

I wasn't looking for sothing to flaunt Declan's wealth. I just wanted sothing simple, sothing I could put on and leave as soon as possible.

But nothing here fit that.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

And that's when I felt it.

Soone standing behind .

I already knew who it was.

I didn't even bother turning around. "Aren't you supposed to be with that lady, picking the best collection for your marriage?" I mocked.

"I know, son," he said smoothly. "But you're more important. I want to be with you instead."

I scoffed. "Can we not do this? The fake father-son bonding?" I turned to him, expression cold. "As you can see, it's not working. You had years to be a father, and you didn't. I don't need it now."

Silence.

I spotted a suit. Black, simple, nothing flashy.

"Great. I've found sothing," I said, grabbing it along with a matching pair of shoes.

I headed back to the front, where the boutique owner was still talking my father's ear off.

I was about to leave when his voice stopped .

"I want you to be my right-wing man after this marriage."

I froze.

His voice was calm and confident like I would agree to it.

"I'll give you everything you want," he continued. "And I will never let you lack."