In a well secured prison facility on the outskirts of Rivergate City, the warden guard walked majestically to a cell, “Hey you, Inmate 456, Steven Milton! You are free to go. I hope you don't get to come back to this awful place. Try not to come back here. Be good!” Steven walked out majestically from the cell, followed the warden guard closely from behind he was led to the storage room. He was given a box and went through some prison procedures. All the outfits he brought with him were returned back and he gave the warden a slight nod. He changed into them, everything he was imprisoned with five years ago, except for his engagement ring could be found in the box, he knew that was long gone, he didn't bother to ask, he just wanted to leave that godforsaken place as soon as possible. “Someone is here to pick you up. Steven, stay away from trouble!” The warden uttered and Steven only nodded. ‘Someone? Tsk! Does anyone even care about his well being?’ He thought. Five years ago, S

Steven, who totally ignored Helen’s dreadful stares, walked towards his room just under the staircase. This particular room wasn't meant for anyone to live in, it is supposed to be a storage room, where things that aren't necessarily needed were kept until they do, but then this little space turned out to be Steven's room. When Steven newly arrived at the Milton's household, he was welcomed with open arms, he thought they cared about him but that was all a facade. When he first stepped into the mansion, his family, most especially his parents, had arranged a bright, gorgeous, clean and spacious room for him. He was so excited, he thought finally he was home to his own family and that he wouldn't need to suffer again. But then something happened, Jackson his adopted brother walked into the room and said, “Mom, dad, my game room is too small for me, I want this to be my new gaming room!” His mum asked gently; “Sweetheart, are you sure?” “Yes mum, please!” Jackson uttered pout

Steven laughed uncontrollably at Helen's words yet again, it was more like she was becoming even more comical by each second. “Helen, why don't you tell me or explain in layman's terms exactly, pinpointing every single thing the Milton family has ever gotten me?” She scoffed at his words and said; “Like I said before, at the very least since you are so determined that you got nothing else. But the fifty thousand dollars allowance you have been receiving over the years. Let's minus the five years you were in prison, that doesn't count, but you still received $1 million.” “I will not repeat myself again, your family didn't give me a single penny. Since you are so convinced that I received such an amount of money, prove it. Bring evidence, but if you have nothing to show for it, you will have me to contend with, I can assure you.” Steven sternly retorted. Helen scoffed and was about to retaliate when someone walked over. A tall young man with somewhat brownish hair appeared, his s

Steven’s words hit like an explosion. For a heartbeat, no one moved, no one breathed. The party hall, once buzzing with laughter, champagne glasses clinking, and music now fell into an unnatural stillness. Sever ties with the Milton family? The murmurs started softly, then grew into a hum like a swarm of angry bees. “Did he just—?” “He’s insane.” “Who walks away from the Miltons?” “He’s giving up everything!” The Milton name wasn’t just powerful—it was untouchable. Their empire sprawled across Riverage City like a web, worth hundreds of millions and feared by rivals. People clawed for a fraction of what Steven had by birthright… and here he was, throwing it all away willingly. Helen finally snapped out of her shock, her eyes wide, chest heaving as her face twisted with anger. Her voice cut through the crowd like a whip. “How dare you, Steven? How dare you!” Sarah Milton stumbled forward, nearly tripping on the hem of her gown. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hand trem

Helen’s voice cracked through the tension like a whip. “You are lying, Steven! It couldn’t possibly be you. You’re a liar! Jackson wouldn't do such a thing.” She kept repeating. Steven didn’t flinch. His voice came back low, deliberate, and sharp. “Your so-called favorite, Jackson, can’t even boil water without supervision. He can’t cook to save his life. I made those meals, Helen, every single one of them. And every day, I left them in a lunchbox with your name on it.” Helen shook her head furiously, denial clawing at her pride. “I don’t believe you.” Steven stepped closer, his eyes steady, almost pitying, “Then don’t believe me. But why not check your kitchen’s surveillance? Why not go back and watch the footage from all those years? You’ll see who was there every morning before I walked twenty kilometers to school.” The crowd gasped softly, whispers rippling like waves. Jackson’s shoulders tensed, his hands fiddling nervously with the edge of his suit jacket. Sweat bea