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Chapter 58: Ruth & Alora
Ruth waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Family should always check in on one another.” She turned, surveying the room again with a faint crease of distaste she tried — poorly — to hide.“I brought a few things,” she said, lifting a paper bag of groceries. “Just small items. Olive oil, fresh fruit, a bit of wine. I thought you might need them.”“Need,” Sasha repeated quickly, her tone defensive. “We’re fine, actually. The place just needs a little polish, that’s all. We are definitely not hungry.” she had to be defensive. This gesture was not needed and definitely not from the heart of the woman standing before her.Ruth’s smile didn’t falter. “Of course. Of course.”Adrian stood from where he’d been by the counter, nodding politely. “Thank you for the gesture, Mrs. Brown.” He smiled, recognizing the woman before she could recognize him.Her eyes flicked to him, assessing. “Ah, the famous Adrian,” she said with a practiced laugh. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” she said in a m
Chapter 57: Moth To A Garden
The morning light broke soft and lazy through the worn blinds, painting faint bars across the dining table. Breakfast had ended, but the air still smelled faintly of garlic and soy sauce, a reminder of the meal Adrian had made earlier — and the silence that followed it.Ben was the first to break it.He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, arms crossed over his chest. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.“You know, Adrian, I find you funny.” Ben said.Adrian raised his brows, “And why is that, Ben?” he asked in confusion. You talk about money like you’ve actually seen it. In your words ‘It won’t be a problem anymore’” he said with a short laugh, his tone half-mocking, half-curious. “Tell me, Adrian, what do you even know about money? You’ve been broke all your life, haven’t you?”Adrian didn’t flinch. He turned off the stove quietly, wiped his hands on a towel, and leaned against the counter. His expression was calm — almost too calm. “I know more than you t
Chapter 56: Moth To A Garden
That morning, sunlight spilled across the dining table, catching the steam from the bowls of congee and fried eggs Adrian had prepared. The food smelled heavenly —ginger, garlic, a hint of soy sauce, all balanced to absolute perfection.Ben leaned back with a sigh after his first bite. “Well,” he said, licking his lips, “at least the boy knows how to cook. I’ll give him that.”Sasha, however, was not as easily won over. “Cooking won’t pay the bills,” she said sharply, setting her chopsticks down with a clack. “Adrian, you’ve been here several days now. Don’t you think it’s time you started earning your keep?”Helen glanced up, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Mom, he’s already…”But Sasha cut her off. “No, Helen. Don’t defend him. Your father and I lost everything because of you two. And now that we’re stuck in this… this matchbox, the least he can do is pull his weight.” She turned to Adrian, her eyes cold. “You can cook, can’t you? Then maybe find work at a diner. Or clean. Or fix t
Chapter 55: Crevices In The Walls
The new apartment was small —small enough that every sound carried: the whistle of the kettle, the groan of the pipes, the low hum of traffic from the street below. Helen had tried to make it feel like home. She hung soft curtains, wiped every corner until it gleamed, and placed a little vase of fresh daisies on the kitchen table. Still, there was no hiding the cracks in the wall or the faint smell of rust in the tap water. It wasn’t exactly terrible, but it couldn’t be called a home when compared to the Cross’ mansion, where they came from.But somehow… it felt warmer than the Cross estate ever had.The first night had been quiet —uncomfortably so for Sasha and Ben, who were used to servants gliding in and out with trays and fine wines every single blessed day. For Helen, though, the silence was a kind of peace. There were no whispering relatives, no disapproving glares, no polished smiles hiding knives. Just family.She could live with that.Still, she missed her grandfather. She f
Chapter 54: Lonely At The Top
That night stretched into an eternity of agony for the Crosses, the mansion's walls closing in with the weight of loss. Clara rocked in the corner, murmuring sad nonsense to the empty air, while Marcus paced like a caged wolf, fists bloody from punching the study wall. Evelyn, one of the aunts, brewed endless tea no one drank, and the rest of the family clutched themselves together, comforting one another over the loss of the little boy who died from a mysterious animal.Ethan lingered on the periphery, offering shoulders and sympathies, his mind a whirlwind of contingencies. The autopsy will show the fall, but those marks... they'll buy time. Blame the woods, not the rooftop. After some time, Ethan, as the acting head, finally began to address the family. He took a deep breath, brushing his fingers against the sleeve of his jacket before stepping into the center of the room. His expression was solemn, carefully composed, the very picture of a grieving but steadfast leader.“Enough,
Chapter 53: Animal!
Ethan slipped through the French doors like a shadow folding into itself, the cool night air clinging to his skin like an accusation he couldn't shake. The mansion's halls were mercifully dim, lit only by the occasional sconce flickering like guilty consciences. He moved on instinct—past the grand staircase, up the side servants' steps to avoid the creak in the main one—and into his chambers without so much as a whisper of fabric against wood. The door clicked shut behind him, soft as a lie settling into place.He stood there for a heartbeat, his chest heaving under the crisp white shirt now rumpled and stained with invisible sin. The room smelled of polished oak and his own cologne, a sanctuary of tailored suits and leather-bound ledgers that suddenly felt like a cage. “Act normal, Ethan. Act normal,” he told himself, stripping off the jacket and tossing it over the armchair. “You've done worse. You'll do it again.” He splashed water on his face from the basin, the droplets cold ag
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