How did they really regard him as a father?

"You better tell your son yourself what hurtful things you said!" Gian Horne had originally wanted to show concern for Pheobe Rogers, but suddenly he couldn't muster the motivation. He left that remark behind, turned, and walked into the villa without looking back.

The last gleam of Hugo Twilight in the sky fell on his back, unexpectedly reflecting the loneliness he concealed from others.

The great master of the Horne Family, who once envisioned enjoying the good fortune of having multiple devoted women, also had his moments of loneliness.

"Mom, what exactly happened? What did you say? Even Dad doesn't want to speak for you." James Horne's handsome face darkened again. His tone became sharp, as if he were interrogating a criminal. No one knew the pain in his heart, a pain ordinary people couldn't bear. How many sons were willing to question their own mothers as if they were criminals?

"I... What did I say, really? I just casually mentioned Adele Horne, that spoiled young lady. But she was disrespectful to me first; she called me an 'old bitch.' James, how am I a bitch? Your dad and I truly loved each other..."

"No matter how true your love was, you still interfered in someone else's marriage! That's just an excuse you came up with!" James Horne suddenly roared in a low voice.

Pheobe Rogers's expression changed, becoming extremely mortified.

She was the other woman. She had been the other woman for nearly thirty years and had never been able to make her status official. This was the lifelong pain she bore. But she had never expected her own son to look down on her too.

She swore to the heavens that her love with Gian Horne was genuine. Otherwise, Gian Horne wouldn't have stopped seeking out other women after he got together with her.

"James Horne, do you also think your mother is a bitch?"

As Pheobe Rogers asked this, her heart felt like it was bleeding.

"If you won't tell me, I'll go inside and ask Older Brother, ask Julia, ask Grandma. They'll tell me." James Horne suddenly strode past Pheobe Rogers, his large steps a bit unsteady as he walked towards the villa.

He truly didn't want to think of his mother as a bitch. He felt his world growing heavier by the moment, devoid of joy, devoid of hope. He felt his very existence was a testament to his mother's boast of her genuine love with his father. He felt his birth was merely a bargaining chip for his mother to gain a foothold in the Horne Family. He didn't deny that his mother doted on him, valuing him even more than her own life. Yet, he couldn't ignore that while loving him, she was also severely exploiting him. His mother had sent him back to the Horne Family not just because the Old Lady didn't want a Horne descendant living outside, but also because his mother wanted him to live under the watchful eyes of his father's wife, Mila Anderson. She wanted to constantly, day in and day out, provoke Mila, to remind her that he was the fruit of her love with his father.

Glades Horne's handsome face flashed through his mind—his older brother's somber yet caring gaze, the warmest thing in the depths of his heart, something he had always wanted to hold onto. Then, Julia Bluen's pretty, melon-seed-shaped face also appeared in his thoughts. They had known each other since childhood. Every time they met, even if they didn't speak, her gaze towards him was always normal, without any disdain. Her lack of aggression towards him was a form of kindness he had experienced anew after returning to the Horne Family. His world was so tragically pitiful that anyone who didn't attack him was, by default, considered friendly. His crush on her had been exposed to his older brother on that drunken night. Although his brother had been deeply resentful, he hadn't done anything to hurt him. James knew it was Julia's influence, because Julia Bluen was the only person who could pacify his older brother's anger. Alas... The most upstanding man in his eyes was his older brother, and the kindest, most beautiful woman in his heart was his sister-in-law. He, it seemed, was destined never to receive any love. Because his mother had stolen someone else's love. He was atoning for his mother's sins. The heartache was now beyond words. This evening, meant for a family reunion and a joyful Little New Year's Eve dinner, had instead become an evening that tore his heart to shreds.

A faint breeze was blowing. It wasn't strong and lacked the chill of previous days. Yet, when it brushed against James Horne's face, he felt as if it were a wind from the depths of an iceberg, carrying a bone-piercing cold.

The last trace of Hugo Twilight in the sky had vanished. The dark curtain of night descended, shrouding the entire land, much like his heart, which had briefly seen a glimmer of sunlight, was once again swallowed by darkness.

When would his light ever come again?

In the main hall, Glades Horne was no longer present, nor was Julia Bluen.

When he entered, all the family members' eyes landed on him in unison.

At that moment, James Horne felt like a spy who had just infiltrated a Military Camp, only to be immediately questioned by everyone. He had lived for over twenty years, returning to this house several times a day. Yet, without his older brother present, it felt entirely different. Usually, when his older brother was around, everyone's gazes towards him were quite gentle, because his older brother had declared, "He is my brother!"

"Grandma," James Horne said, approaching the Old Lady with an expressionless face. He didn't sit down; he just stood there.

The Old Lady looked at him with compassion, as if she knew what he was going to ask. She pointed to the cell phone on the coffee table—it was Julia Bluen's.

"James, listen to that recording. Adele was also at fault; she shouldn't have said such hurtful things," the Old Lady said, being rather fair. She acknowledged that Adele Horne's words had provoked Pheobe Rogers to say what she did.

James Horne reached out, picked up Julia Bluen's cell phone, and played the short recording.

The Old Lady then recounted what Pheobe Rogers had said leading up to those recorded words. It was clear Pheobe Rogers had come with ill intentions, determined to cause trouble.

After listening to the recording, James Horne's expression grew even graver. He looked towards Mila Anderson, who was watching him coldly, then at his sister, Adele Horne. Adele's personality had changed almost completely after her ordeal. Just as Adele Horne looked at him, she pouted slightly and then said softly, "James, I'm sorry, but I can't control my hatred for your mom."

That simple "I'm sorry" from Adele made it impossible for James Horne to utter another word of accusation.

Since Adele had returned from her ordeal, she had begun to treat him as her true older brother.