Chapter Four: The Divorce Dinner
Author: ROONIE
last update2025-10-24 16:31:50

Snow powdered the Strattons’ mansion like sugar on marble. Landon stood at the iron gate, clutching the divorce papers Emily had insisted he sign “in person.” 

He could have mailed them, but something in him wanted to see their faces, one last time, before he disappeared from their world for good.

The gate buzzed open. He walked up the long drive, boots crunching over frozen gravel. The house glittered with warm light, all glass and stone and quiet arrogance.

Harold Stratton himself opened the door, immaculate as ever in a navy sweater and loafers. “Ah, the prodigal son-in-law,” he said dryly. “Try not to drip on the rug.”

Landon wiped his feet deliberately, meeting the man’s eyes. “Wouldn’t want to stain perfection.”

Harold’s jaw tightened. “Come in.”

Inside, everything gleamed, crystal chandeliers, a fire glowing behind glass, the smell of expensive wine. 

Emily sat on the couch, pale blue dress, hands folded like she was attending a funeral. Todd lounged beside her, smug in his designer jacket.

“Let’s make this quick,” Harold said. “We have guests arriving in half an hour.”

Landon dropped the envelope on the coffee table. “All you need to do is sign.”

Harold didn’t move. “Not yet. We have conditions.”

“Conditions?” Landon’s voice was flat.

Emily looked away. “Dad, please, ”

“No, Emily,” Harold snapped. “He deserves to know the price of failure.” He turned back to Landon. “You’ll sign a nondisclosure agreement. You’ll make no claim on family assets, no mention of our name in public, and you’ll vacate the apartment by Friday.”

Todd grinned. “And maybe try getting a job that doesn’t involve begging.”

Landon smiled faintly. “Still jealous of my last one?”

Todd’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Landon said quietly. “Funny thing about the world, one day you’re on top, the next you’re asking favors from the guy you mocked.”

Harold laughed, sharp and cold. “Are you threatening us?”

“No,” Landon said. “Just observing.”

Emily stood suddenly. “Stop it! Both of you. Let’s just sign and move on.”

He looked at her then, really looked. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hands trembling. Maybe she’d loved him once. 

Maybe not. Either way, she was part of the old life he was leaving behind. He picked up a pen, flipped the papers open, and froze.

Every word on the page glowed faintly. He blinked. The glow sharpened into whispers, debt clauses, hidden conditions, false signatures. 

His mind translated each one instantly, the meanings unfolding in layers. They were trying to trap him legally, claim he’d breached a prenuptial agreement that never existed.

Landon looked up slowly. “You forged this.”

Harold stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“You added two paragraphs at the end,” Landon said. “Clause 14-B, transfer of apartment lease, and 14-C, waiver of legal contestation rights. You tried to bury them in fine print.”

Harold’s face drained of color. “How could you possibly, ”

Todd barked a laugh. “Oh come on, he can barely pay rent, you think he knows legal, ”

Landon cut him off. “I know because I can read faster than you can blink.”

Something flickered behind his eyes, a brief, electric shimmer. The chandelier’s crystals trembled. Emily whispered, “Landon… what’s happening?”

He set the pen down gently. “What’s happening is I’m done being your punching bag.”

Harold recovered enough to sneer. “Or what? You’ll glower at us until we apologize?”

Landon leaned forward, voice low and calm. “Careful, Harold. You wouldn’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

“Get out,” Harold snapped.

But Landon didn’t move. He could feel their thoughts now, buzzing around the room like hornets. “He’s bluffing. If he signs, we’re rid of him for good. Emily looks scared. Good. She should learn.”

He smiled slowly. “You think this is still your house, your rules. But the funny thing about rules, they only matter when people believe in them.”

Todd scoffed. “Oh, you’ve been reading self-help books now?”

“No.” Landon’s gaze pinned him. “I’ve been remembering.”

He reached for the papers again, and with a casual flick of his hand, the ink bled off the page, the text dissolving into blank whiteness. The air smelled faintly of ozone.

Emily gasped. Todd stumbled back, knocking over a glass. “What the,  what did you do?”

Landon stood. “I erased your lies. Seems fair, doesn’t it?”

Harold’s face turned red. “You,  you vandalized legal documents! I’ll have you arrested!”

Landon chuckled. “You can’t arrest what you can’t explain.”

For a heartbeat, silence filled the room, heavy, electric. Then he turned to Emily. “You wanted me to sign away my dignity. Congratulations. You just freed me instead.”

She looked at him, tears brimming. “Landon, I didn’t know, Dad said.”

“I know what he said,” Landon interrupted softly. “And someday, you’ll wonder why you believed him.”

He walked toward the door, every step echoing like thunder. Todd lunged forward. “You think you can just walk away?”

Landon paused. “Try to stop me.”

Todd’s hand shot out, but before he could touch him, a crack of air burst between them, tossing Todd back against the wall. He hit the floor, gasping, eyes wide with shock.

Emily screamed. Harold stumbled backward, crossing himself. “What are you?”

Landon looked over his shoulder, expression unreadable. “Something you should’ve never underestimated.”

He stepped into the cold night and closed the door behind him. The wind howled across the Stratton lawn, carrying the faint scent of ozone and fear.

The moment he reached the gate, his phone pulsed again. “Integration: 31%. Emotional equilibrium achieved. Next sequence pending.”

He stared at the screen, breathing hard. His hands trembled, not from weakness, but from energy thrumming under his skin.

Behind him, he heard shouting inside the mansion. He didn’t turn back. A taxi slowed on the road. The driver leaned out. “Need a lift, buddy?”

Landon nodded and slid in. “Downtown.”

The driver glanced at him in the mirror. “Rough night?”

Landon exhaled slowly. “Actually… it’s the best I’ve had in years.”

As the city lights streaked past the window, he caught his reflection, eyes faintly glowing, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Whatever the Ascension Protocol was, it had chosen the right man, and for the first time, the son-in-law everyone mocked was no longer a victim. He was the storm coming for them all.

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