CHAPTER 535: YOU’RE NO LONGER PART OF US (3)

Erik, Brad’s assistant, stepped out of a sleek black car, adjusting the cuff of his suit with meticulous precision. He briefly glanced at the dark skies with practised indifference. Erik’s calm presence contrasted sharply with the frenzy that awaited him, but even that did not invoke any reaction from the solemn expression on his face.

Cameras clicked. Microphones surged forward like grasping hands. Reporters shouted questions, their voices tripping over each other in a desperate race for soundbites, but the man didn’t flinch. He didn’t pause, nor did he even blink.

He walked through the tide of press with the kind of cool, collected stride that only came from years of walking in the shadow of power, and often being the one to hold its leash. Currey would have usually handled this task, but Ian had decided to let Brad handle it in its entirety, hence why Erik was there.

Like a miracle, the crowd of reporters parted.

"Is he going to make a statement?"

"Is the Chairman coming too?"

"Which of the chairmen? I just want the best scoop tonight, though!"

"Was it true about the sisters?!"

"Are you still asking? Can’t you see what is unfolding here?"

Speculation buzzed, but no answers came.

Erik’s expression remained unreadable, like marble carved into efficiency. His shoes clicked across the concrete with deliberate grace. A single earpiece curled discreetly behind his ear, in which he occasionally murmured something that was lost in the frenzy.

He reached the tall metal gates, which were slightly ajar. And only then did he glance over his shoulder. Just once.

And the flashbulbs exploded again. In that brief glance, the press felt it – there was that story that needed! Something exciting was about to unfold! He didn’t need to speak to make headlines.

Then he was gone, swallowed by the doors, but they could still see him. It was just that they were not allowed to cross onto the private property, but the large gates that led to the courtyard had a design that allowed one to still see through to what was happening in the courtyard. So, insofar as they did not go into the main house, the reporters could catch everything!

The tension outside had reached a fever pitch. They were poised and ready for what was coming, and they had no doubt that it would be big. Because, how many times has a Thornston become a Non-Thornston?

Erik stepped through the doors and paused for just a moment, letting the sight before him settle in. It had escalated much faster than they had thought.

The main courtyard buzzed with tension and disbelief. Sally and Molly, once proud and commanding, stood to the side in defeat, their once carefully styled hair now slightly dishevelled, their designer outfits wrinkled and out of place in the swirl of chaos. Their sons hovered nearby, confused and completely unaware of the depth of disgrace that clung to them like smoke.

Erik scanned the place and the myriads of workers who looked to be responsible for what was happening, and he smirked. The attitude of turning against their masters was unfathomable, but when one belonged to that world, it was understandable to a certain extent. No matter how cruel it seemed. He had the calm gaze of someone who had memorized the battlefield before stepping onto it.

’How times change,’ he thought, lips twitching in the faintest ghost of another smirk.

’These were the same people who had cornered his boss, Brad, with veiled threats and sugar-coated promises of "a rightful place" if he only handed over power. It was not in straight words, but any learned person would understand them. They had smiled through their fangs and tried to manipulate him. They had belittled him, but Erik had learnt a long time ago that when Brad struck, he did so with a totality that one did not see coming.

Now? Sally and Molly had learnt the hard way: They were being escorted out of their own home.

He turned slightly, eyes catching on the house staff — once silent and deferential, now confident and vocal. The lead butler stood firm, arms crossed, refusing to let Sally re-enter the main corridor.

"Ma’am," the worker said sharply, "you were told to leave. Don’t make us call security."

All politeness had already been dropped, and the cold exterior was obvious.

"But this is my—" Sally started, sounding feeble and tired, but she stopped mid-sentence when she saw Erik.

"Help us!"

The sharp cry cut through the murmuring crowd as Sally rushed toward Erik. Her designer shoes clicked against the marble, but her usual poise had vanished — she looked frantic, her expression wild with disbelief.

Erik raised an eyebrow but did not stop walking.

"It’s you!" she gasped, grabbing at his sleeve. "You were there that day — in the office — you know us! You know we’re family! I don’t know why the DNA reports say that, but we really are family! Please help!"

The desperation in her voice cracked something in the air. Before Erik could react, Molly also added,

"Thank God you’re here. Please, teach these brutes a lesson. Can you believe it? The staff — the staff! — are throwing us out of our residence like criminals! This is illegal! My brother must have sent you to help, right? Alex knows we’ve been misunderstood—"

Molly had forgotten what she had said about Alex being in the know to Sally. At this moment, it was as if her usually calm demeanour was lost. She was but an old woman!

The words tumbled from her lips in broken flurries, each one more panicked than the last. The two sisters were equally breathless and equally lost in the storm of disgrace. They had forgotten the cameras or conveniently ignored them. They also forgot the growing crowd outside.

Even their sons, who stood blankly in the background like dolls without strings, seemed to have been forgotten. Molly knew that once they stepped foot out of that house, they were completely hopeless, but she could think of nothing to save them but Alex. So, all that remained was their naked plea — and the hope that this assistant in front of them, one that they would have never given the time of day, some time back, was their lifeline.

But Erik just looked at her as one would a fly buzzing against a windowpane.

"No," the assistant interrupted, his voice smooth and unimpressed, "It was your residence as a Thornston, but this was never in your name; it is a family property. So, given the revelations... you’re guests now at best. And unwanted ones, at that. You seem to have conveniently forgotten that you tried to harm the family’s interests!"

Sally let go and stiffened, but the fury had nowhere to go. None of the people around flinched. The staff had aligned themselves with the true family

, alienating them, and their loyalty had turned cold the moment the truth was revealed.

Erik’s response was not what the sisters wanted, but what could they do?

Slowly, deliberately, Erik pulled out his phone. One swipe, and the screen lit up with a video call already in progress.

Alex’s face filled the screen. It was as if the world paused.

Molly surged forward, eyes glimmering with fresh hope. "Brother!" she said, her voice breaking with relief. "We knew it. We knew you wouldn’t let us down—"

The man on the screen didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even scowl.

Alex simply said: "You are no longer part of us."

The words dropped like a stone, and the voice travelled far, to the reporters!

Molly staggered back as if physically struck. Sally’s mouth opened, but no sound came. Around them, the night chill suddenly felt colder. The servants stopped moving, the reporters fell silent, and the weight of rejection curled in the air like smoke.

"No... no, you don’t mean that. We .. we were just protecting the family. We thought..." her voice broke into a whisper. "We thought ...."

Alex lowered his voice and said for only Molly’s ears, "Next time you try to attack my family, think it through because it might come back to bite you!"

"YOU!" Sally, close to her sister, screamed, and the observers only thought that she was disheartened.

But the call had already ended. Erik slipped the phone back into his coat, his expression unchanged. "The workers will see you out," he said quietly. "Kindly leave the premises."

And this time, there was no more resistance. Only the sound of shuffling feet... and a shame too deep for words. Molly understood too well and stopped resisting as well.

Erik’s gaze swept the room one last time. Then he took out his phone and calmly typed a message — a simple update to Brad:

"They’ve been dealt with."

He tucked the phone back in his pocket and turned toward reporters. The show was over... or not.

Just as the workers moved in to escort them out, another buzz sounded. Erik’s phone lit up once more, and he glanced down.

A quiet moment passed, and then he turned back toward the sisters.

"Wait," he said coolly, lifting a hand to halt the staff. The two women froze, unsure whether to be relieved or more afraid.

Erik cleared his throat, straightened his coat, and then spoke — his voice echoing to the reporters as well.

"There is a message from Chairman Alex: ’Considering your shared years growing up... your history as children under the same roof...’" he paused, eyes flicking from one to the other, ’the Chairman has decided not to throw you out."

Gasps followed.

The sisters blinked, confused.

"You may stay."

"The workers will continue to tend to you, as guests."

"He bears no hatred... only pity, and he hopes that you will not attack the family so blindly again."

The reporters took this in hungrily! This benevolence was too much! Their respect for Alex Thornston soared!

Though sad and uncomfortable, the relief that washed over Molly’s face was immediate. Sally slumped slightly, a breath she hadn’t known she was holding escaping her lips.

But Erik wasn’t done.

"There will be some restrictions in place to ensure that what nearly happened does not repeat itself:

You will not be treated as family with all those privileges. You will not be welcomed at decision-making meetings. You will not hold access to the estate’s business or legacy. You are simply being allowed to remain, like visitors. Out of mercy... but an allowance will be given to ensure your comfort."

The irony hit them in waves. They had plotted to remove an imposter, tried to shame Alex’s wife, but what happened? Alex was the one showing grace — a public, humiliating grace.

The same workers who had once bowed before them now looked upon them with thinly veiled contempt. They would serve, yes — but only as duty-bound servants under new leadership. The warmth was gone. The loyalty was gone. All that remained was cold civility.

It was... devastating.

Molly blinked rapidly. "So... what are we?"

Erik gave a small, unreadable smile.

"Just... irrelevant." He smiled, which was weird, given the circumstances,

"Chairman said to tell you that the rules that the workers were trained under were designed by you... So you’re just reaping what you sowed!"

With that, he turned and walked away.

The sisters stood there, frozen in place. The mercy they had received felt heavier than any punishment. And that, perhaps, was the true genius of their brother’s revenge — he hadn’t cast them out.

Alex and his sons had rendered them powerless and left them to live with it.

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