bChapter /bb154 /b

bADRIAN’S /bPOV

Breaking that vase on the floor felt so damn good. The crash, the shatter, the chaos it caused–it was the only honest thing in the room. For bonce/b, I bdidn’t /bbregret /bmy reaction. I was done ying the nice guy. Done pretending I could stomach their presence without tearing something apart.

“How can you two sit there and ask me if I’m alright, with all this going on?” I shouted, my voice rising with every word. My chest heaved bwith /bemotion bId /bburied for too long.

Mr. Grayson looked unfazed, adjusting his tie like he hadn’t just heard me snap. “What are you talking about? We’re the ones who should be asking bwhat /bbis /bgoing on.”

I stared at him in disbelief, then scoffed. “You want to know what’s going on?” I took a step forward, not blinking. “Olivia is dead.”

Silence.

I waited for it–the gasp, the horror, the moment of parental breakdown. But it didn’t

ome.

They just

sat there. Still, Cold and numb.

They nced at each other briefly, and then back at me.

“You’re not surprised?” I asked, my voice suddenly low, almost confused.

“Why should we be?” Mrs. Grayson said calmly, crossing one leg over the other. “We warned her that this would be her fate if she didn’t change her ways. She was straying off the right path, and even when we tried to bring her back, she chose the wrong one. It was only a matter of time before she bgot /bwhat wasing to her.”

My entire body froze.

“What wasing to her?” I repeated, my voice hollow. “You raised her since she was little.”

“And that,” Mr. Grayson chimed in, “was one of the biggest mistakes of our lives. But at least nature has a way of correcting its errors.”

I stared at them, stunned. My brows furrowed deeply, my mouth slightly open, not from sadness–but from disgust. Even if they didn’t care about her… even if they hated her… shouldn’t they at least pretend in front of me? Fake a tear? Show a flicker of humanity?

But they didn’t. They were emotionally bankrupt. Soulless.

I let out a breath, long and slow, forcing myself to cool down. She was gone. And they didn’t care. I had to ept that. I couldn’t keep letting them rattle me. They weren’t worth it. Not anymore.

“Fine,” I said, standing tall again. “Since we’re being honest… I was the one who withdrew all the funds from the investments.”

Their reaction was immediate–sharpughter filled the air. Not the kind ofughter that was joyful, bbut /bbthe /bkind meant to mock. They looked at each other like I’d just made a poor joke.

But then they looked back at me–and I wasn’tughing.

Their expressions changed.

Mr. Grayson blinked. “Wait… you’re serious?”

bI /bnodded once, slowly.

“Why would you do something like that?” he barked. “Those are our life investments! That’s all we had!”

A storm of emotions passed over his face–confusion, anger, panic–but I remained still.

b1/3 /b

bChapter /bb154 /b

bnced /bbover /bbat /bDan, bwho /bhad been standing silently like a statue behind them the entire time. I gave him a nod

bHe /bbreturned /bthe gesture and walked bout /bof the room toward my study. He knew what to bring. I’d prepared for this moment, band /bnow it was finally i

I looked back at the Graysons, who were still struggling to process everything.

“We’re going to talk about something more important than your lost funds—something far more personal and dear to me,” I said, staty pacing bthe /broomb, /bmy voice cold and measured.

Mfs. Grayson scoffed, folding her arms like she was the victim in this whole mess. “You know nothing is more important than those funds, Adrianb. /b

bAnd /bthere it was–exactly what I expected from them. Their usual selfish tone, where money was always at the center of everything. I turned slowly bto /bbface /bthem, my eyes narrowing.

b“/bThat’s the problem,” I said, suppressing the rage bubbling beneath the surface. “You two honestly believe the world revolves around you. If something doesn’t directly benefit you–if it doesn’t fill your wallets–you don’t give a damn.”

Dan returned just then, holding the envelope I had asked him to retrieve. He handed it to me silently. I epted it without taking my eyes off bthe /bGraysons and gently ced it on the coffee table between us.

“But that ends today,” I added firmly, the finality in my voice slicing through the tension in the room.

Mr. Grayson leaned forward, brows furrowed. “What are you talking about, Adrian?b” /b

I could see the confusion in their eyes, but I didn’t feel sympathy–not even a shred. They didn’t deserve it.

“I know you’re both confused right now, and honestly, I wouldn’t me you. It’s been years,” I said, picking up the envelope and pulling out the piece of paper inside. “But don’t worry–I’m going to help you remember.”

I held the paper out like it was a mirror to the past.

“Does the name Margaret ring a bell?”

They both blinked. Mrs. Grayson nced at her husband, silently asking if the name meant anything to him. Mr. Grayson frownedb, /bshaking his head slowly, his mind clearly trying to ce it. But there was nothing. nk stares.

“You don’t remember?” I said, the weight of my words sharpening. “You don’t remember the woman whose life you destroyed?”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Grayson replied quickly, but her voice trembled slightly. “Why don’t we sit and talk about this like civil people?”

Civil people? Now she wanted civility?

The rage surged in me. So they truly had no recollection of Margaret Westwood. Not even a flicker of guilt. They had already erased her from their minds because they got what they wanted. Used her. Left her to rot.

My hand moved before I could stop it. In a single motion, I grabbed Sam Grayson by the cor and mmed him against the wall. bThe /bthud echoed violently through the room, making a painting shift on its hook. It felt good–satisfying in a way I couldn’t describe.

His eyes widened with shock and fear.

“Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t remember the name Margaret. Margaret Westwood,” I said through gritted bteeth/bb, /bbmy /bbface /bbjust /bbinches /bbfrom /bbhis/b.

“Adrian, stop this!” Mrs. Grayson screamed, rushing toward us. She tried to pull me off her husband, but Dan stepped bin /bbswiftly/bb, /bbgrabbing /bbher /bbarm /bband /bpulling her back before she could interfere.

“Let go of me!” she shouted, struggling against Dan’s grip. “He’s hurting him!”

Dan held her firm, his face nk. “No ma’am. You hurt people too. You just bdid /bit in silence.”

b2/3 /b

Uril 20 Jun

bChapter /b154

bSam /bbGrayson /b

was gasping now,

bhis /bhands

s trying to looseh

my

bgrip/b,

but I wasn’t ready to let go.

Not byet /b

biAD/i/b