FAR FROM HOME

Anderson's Estate

The ride to the Anderson Estate was quiet.

The roads gradually changed from crowded city streets to a private district surrounded by carefully trimmed green hedges and tall stone walls. Marble statues stood along both sides of the road, while expensive lights illuminated the entrance to the properties. At the end of the road stood a pair of enormous gilded iron gates.

Soren stared at them through the window.

He remembered those gates.

Ten years ago, he had left this place carrying a military bag on his back while Charles stood behind him, desperately trying to follow the vehicle.

Now he was finally back.

But Charles was no longer waiting for him behind those gates.

The Jeep slowly passed through the entrance and continued toward the main courtyard. The Anderson Estate appeared ahead, larger than Soren remembered. The mansion stood in the center of the enormous property, looking more like a royal palace than a private residence. It was one of the four great family houses in Westland and the most powerful of them all.

Soren stared at the mansion without saying a word.

This was the place where he had spent most of his childhood.

It was also the place where he had learned what it meant to be unwanted.

The Jeep came to a stop in the main courtyard.

Expensive cars filled the curved driveway, including several luxury vehicles belonging to some of the country's most influential families. Music and laughter came from inside the mansion, while servants moved between the guests carrying trays of food and drinks.

Lucus turned off the engine.

Soren opened the door and stepped out.

He stood beside the vehicle and looked toward the mansion.

The birthday celebration was already in full swing.

People were laughing, drinking, dancing, and congratulating the Anderson family. The entire estate was filled with the sound of celebration.

Soren's eyes slowly swept across the courtyard.

His brother had been dead for nearly two years. 

Yet the Anderson family was celebrating as if nothing had happened.

A bitter smile appeared on Soren's lips.

“Charles hasn't even been gone for two years . They seem to have forgotten him rather quickly.”

Lucus stood beside him without responding.

He knew better than to speak carelessly at a moment like this.

Soren looked at the mansion again.

“Sir, should I go inside first?”

Soren glanced at him.

“I'll go by myself.”

Soren looked toward the entrance.

“I want to see how they react when they realize who has come back.”

Lucus understood immediately.

He followed Soren as they walked toward the mansion.

The Anderson Estate was already busy with preparations for the matriarch’s birthday celebration. Servants moved back and forth across the courtyard, carrying expensive decorations and carefully wrapped gifts while the butler stood nearby, barking orders.

“Be careful with that vase! It was sent by the Mayor of Eastbridge. If you damage it, you won’t be able to afford the compensation even if you worked for the Anderson family for the rest of your life.”

Two servants struggled to carry an antique vase wrapped in gold satin. The butler watched them nervously until he noticed Soren and Lucus walking toward the main entrance. His expression immediately changed.

“Hey!”

Soren continued walking as though he had heard nothing. The butler hurried toward them and blocked their path.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Soren finally stopped and looked at him. The butler glanced at their clothes, then his expression filled with disdain.

“This is the Anderson Estate. Important guests are attending the matriarch’s birthday celebration tonight. You can’t simply walk in here.”

Lucus’s eyes turned cold. “We have business with the Anderson family.”

The butler gave a mocking laugh. “Business? Do you even know what kind of place this is? Look at yourselves. Do you think anyone dressed like that is allowed inside?”

Lucus took a step forward. “Watch your mouth.”

The butler’s expression changed when he noticed Lucus’s hand move toward his waist. Several guards nearby immediately turned their attention toward them. Soren raised one hand.

“Lucus.”

The single word was enough. Lucus stopped immediately. Soren looked at the butler without the slightest change in his expression.

“I don’t need your permission to enter.”

The butler was stunned for a moment before becoming angry. “Who do you think you are?”

Soren didn’t answer. He simply walked past him. The butler’s face turned red.

“Stop!”

Soren continued toward the main doors. “You can’t just walk into the Anderson Estate!” the butler shouted as he hurried after them. “Guards! Stop them!”

Several guards began moving forward, but Lucus turned around and gave them a cold look. “Anyone who takes another step will answer to me.”

The guards hesitated. There was something about the man’s voice that made them stop. The butler stared at them in disbelief.

“What are you waiting for? Throw them out!”

Lucus’s eyes narrowed. “You should be careful about who you’re ordering around.”

The butler scoffed. “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

Lucus was about to respond when Soren stopped in front of the entrance. He slowly turned his head.

“Lucus.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let him be.”

Soren pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the marble-floored foyer. The butler stood outside, still trying to understand what had just happened.

“You—”

Before he could finish, a voice came from the hallway.

“Bertram, have you finished preparing the dishes? Mother will be coming downstairs soon.”

Bertram froze when he heard the voice coming from the hallway. A moment later, an older woman stepped into the foyer. She wore a simple dark dress with a white apron, and although her hair had turned gray at the temples and several years had clearly passed since Soren had last seen her, there was something familiar about her face.

Soren recognized her immediately. She had been Charles's personal maid and one of the few people in the Anderson household who had always treated his brother with genuine care. 

Lucus noticed the change in Soren’s expression. “Sir?”

Soren raised his hand slightly, stopping him. The older woman looked between Soren and Lucus before turning toward Bertram.

“What happened?”

Bertram immediately stepped forward. “Mrs. Martha, these two men forced their way inside. I tried to stop them, but they refused to listen.”

The woman’s expression became slightly displeased. “This is the Anderson Estate. You cannot simply allow strangers to walk inside.”

Soren looked at her quietly. Even after all these years, he recognized her voice.

“Are you Martha?”

Before the silence could stretch any further, the older woman looked directly at Soren.

“Who are you?”

Soren's expression didn't change. 

“Have you really forgotten me?”

The woman looked at Soren again, this time more carefully. Her eyes moved across his face as memories from ten years ago slowly returned. She remembered the young man who had left the Anderson Estate with a military bag on his back, leaving Charles behind.

The person standing before her now was completely different. He was taller, broader, and carried an authority that made it difficult to meet his eyes for too long. Yet there was something familiar about his face, especially his eyes.

Her face suddenly turned pale.

“Soren…?”

Soren gave a slight nod. “Yes, Mrs. Martha.”

For several seconds, Martha could only stare at him. Then her expression changed again. Instead of welcoming him, she quickly turned toward the guards standing nearby.

“Get them out.”

Lucus’s eyes immediately became cold. “Excuse me?”

Martha pointed toward the entrance. “I said take them outside. Neither of them is allowed to remain here.”

Bertram’s expression turned vicious. “With pleasure.” He snapped his fingers, and four guards immediately stepped out from the sides of the hall, each dressed in black suits with their hands moving toward the weapons hidden beneath their jackets. They surrounded Soren and Lucus.

Bertram folded his arms and sneered. “Since you refuse to leave on your own, I’ll have them teach you some manners.” He raised his hand. “Take them down.”

The guards moved forward. Lucus stepped in front of Soren. “Sir, let me handle this.”

Soren didn’t even look at him. “Don’t make too much noise.”

A faint smile appeared on Lucus’s face. “Understood.”

The first guard rushed forward. Lucus moved. His fist struck the man’s chest, sending him stumbling several steps backward before he crashed into a table. The other three guards froze.

Lucus rolled his shoulders and looked at them. “Who’s next?”

One of them gritted his teeth and charged. Lucus sidestepped the attack, grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back, and sent him crashing to the floor. The remaining two exchanged a nervous glance.

“Attack him!” Bertram shouted.

They charged together. Lucus didn’t retreat. Within seconds, both men were lying on the marble floor. The entire hall fell silent. The guests stared at the scene in disbelief.

One man swallowed hard. “Who are these people?”

“I don’t know.”

“They took down four guards that quickly?”

Bertram’s face had gone pale. He had expected the two intruders to beg for mercy. Instead, his guards were lying helplessly on the floor.

Lucus straightened his jacket and turned toward Soren. “Sir, they’re dealt with.”

Soren glanced at the fallen guards before looking at Bertram. “Now,” he said calmly, “can we talk without anyone else getting in the way?”