Chapter 2

Christian let out a snort. At this point, he wouldn't believe a single word any of the Ashwoods said anymore.

"Oh, right. The one thing that really baffles me is my own mother's attitude." He turned his gaze to Jennifer. "You should know better than anyone how many times Victor framed me for stealing. After all, you helped him cover it up more than once. You just stood there and watched while your husband whipped me."

A flicker of guilt flashed in Jennifer's eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Christian didn't give her the chance.

"Save it. You're the person I hate most in this family." His voice was hoarse, but every word was like ice. "Back at the orphanage, the director taught us a song about how mothers are the best; I still remember every word.

"Because of that song, I started to wonder what my own mother would be like. I thought she would be gentle and kind, and she would protect her children like a lioness."

Christian sneered. "People always say a child is better off with a poor mother who loves them than a powerful father who doesn't. They also say children don't hate their mothers for being imperfect, and mothers don't abandon their children for being poor. But what about you? Why do you keep hurting me?

"The first time I was whipped, I could still see guilt and heartache in your eyes. But after it happened again and again, that look disappeared. All I saw was satisfaction, like you'd finally gotten even with someone. I couldn't stop wondering when I became your enemy."

He exhaled shakily. The dizziness was getting worse; he had to bite the tip of his tongue now and then just to stay conscious.

Something in his words clearly hit a nerve. Jennifer suddenly exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She radiated hostility, and her voice tipped into hysteria. "Yes, I hate you! I wish you were dead! Are you happy now?"

Her outburst stunned the whole family. The three sisters all disliked Christian, too, but none of them had ever actually wished him dead. As for George, Christian was his only son. Useless or not, there was no way he'd want him dead.

Christian let out a broken laugh. "You've finally said what you really feel. That's why you poisoned me, right?"

His words snapped Jennifer out of her mania. "Poison? What poison? Who poisoned you?"

"Chris, what's going on? Who poisoned you?" George asked in a panic.

"Does it even matter anymore who did it? My own mother just said she wants me dead. I'll just assume she's the one who did it." Christian's frosty voice echoed throughout the living room.

"I didn't! I didn't! How could I poison you? You're my son; I brought you into this world. How could I ever poison you?" Jennifer was so terrified that she was almost incoherent.

"Chris, what the hell is going on?" George's expression had turned grim.

"The report is in my backpack. You can read it for yourselves if you don't believe me," Christian said coolly.

Jennifer scrambled to grab his backpack and pulled out the report. The words on it made her blood run cold—severe heavy metal poisoning with levels massively above the limit.

"No, this is impossible. Who… Who poisoned you? Who was it? Was it you?" She swung her gaze toward Hilda, then Felicia. "Or you?"

Her eyes finally landed on Lydia. "Or did you do it?"

Hilda didn't answer. She just lowered her head, lost in thought. Felicia, on the other hand, looked shellshocked. Her gaze darted toward Victor.

Lydia shook her head frantically. "Mom, it wasn't me. I would never poison him."

Meanwhile, Victor's body suddenly went rigid. Then, he started trembling violently.

George snatched the report from Jennifer. His hands shook uncontrollably as he stared at the results. Then, he said shakily, "Chris, I'll get you treated. I'll make sure you don't suffer any lasting damage. Come on, we're going to the hospital right now."

He moved toward Christian as he spoke.

Christian observed all their reactions, and his heart settled on a cold conclusion.

"Don't. Stay away from me." He swung the fruit knife in his hand to keep them back. "For the three years since I was brought back here, you've slandered and beaten me countless times. I don't want to have any of you as my family anymore.

"My original plan was to cut ties with you after my finals; I didn't expect you to be so impatient that you'd actually poison me first. Isn't that right, Felicia?"

He looked at her. "We're talking about heavy metals. As far as I know, the only place you'd get those is your pharmaceutical lab. Just how deep does your hatred go that you'd try to kill me? If you told me Hilda wanted me dead, I could understand that—she wants the inheritance, so she turns a blind eye when Victor slanders me.

"As for Lydia, she's just stupid and gullible. She wouldn't have had the guts to poison me even if someone told her to. That leaves only you, which I honestly don't get. Did I get in the way of your interests? But whatever. I don't even care anymore. Whatever your reason was, you've already succeeded."

Christian already knew who had poisoned him; he was saying these things on purpose. He wanted to plant a thorn in his parents' hearts and make the Ashwoods turn on each other.

When George and Jennifer heard his words, they turned to stare at Felicia with a sort of bloodthirsty rage.

"I didn't do it! You're framing me!" Felicia panicked, tripping over her own words. "Mom, Dad, I swear I didn't poison him!"

Christian was very satisfied with their reactions. This was exactly what he wanted.

"Heh. And who are you trying to fool with this little performance? You never hesitated to accuse me, beat me, and humiliate me, yet now you suddenly want to play the caring family. Even if you're not disgusted by yourselves, I sure am," he rasped, forcing down a wave of nausea. Still, there was no hiding the hint of weakness in his voice.

Another violent bout of vertigo crashed over him, even worse than before. Biting the tip of his tongue hardly helped this time. Two streams of blood trickled from his nose, and he swayed on his feet. He knew he was almost at his limit.

"Chris!" George and Jennifer cried out, rushing toward him.

Christian knew he couldn't wait any longer. He bit down hard on his tongue, the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth. His mind snapped into focus for a brief, razor-sharp moment.

He used this moment of clarity to drive the fruit knife hard into the side of Victor's neck. The blade punched through from right to left, severing the carotid artery. A jet of blood sprayed out in a dark, pulsing arc.

Christian didn't even flinch. He twisted the knife free and plunged it in again, this time sawing across Victor's throat and opening it completely.

Victor's pupils blew wide. The agony and suffocating panic were so intense he couldn't make a sound; his body simply convulsed in Christian's grip. When Christian finally loosened his left arm, Victor crumpled to the floor, blood gushing out and pooling across the marble like spilled paint.

Screams ripped through the villa. The three sisters collapsed where they stood. Even Hilda, known in the company for being as cool as a cucumber under pressure, was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.

"Vic!" Jennifer shrieked. She stumbled over, dragging Victor into her arms and pressing both hands uselessly to the gaping wound at his neck.

"You… you… you killed him!" George's mind went blank. He pointed a trembling finger at Christian, his voice breaking with terror.

Christian let out a hoarse, broken laugh. Then, he snarled, "You cherish your adopted son so much, don't you? That's why I killed him. You never should've brought me back if you weren't going to treat me like family. You brought everything that's happened today on yourself."

"You! You killed him! How could you kill Vic? He's your brother! How could you do this to your own brother?" Jennifer's mind had clearly cracked under the shock. She just kept muttering the same words over and over.

"Oh? Are you that heartbroken over him? Is he your love child instead of Dad's? Are we actually half-brothers with the same mother and different fathers?" Christian's tone turned mocking.

"N-No, of course not. He's just the child I raised since he was little…" Jennifer stammered, a flicker of clarity and fear returning to her eyes.

"That's why I'm the outsider here. That's why you let these people frame me, slander me, and beat me. That's why you stood by and watched as they poisoned me, isn't it? My dear mother." Christian spat the last word like a curse.

"No, that's not it. You're my flesh and blood, and I love you. You have to believe me, Chris. I really do love you!" Jennifer babbled through her tears.

Christian burst out laughing, the sound shredded and wild. "That's the funniest joke I've heard all day. You love me? Is this how you show your love for me? Then I'd rather you hate me!"

He swept an icy gaze across everyone else. "You should be glad the orphanage did such a good job drilling morals into me. If I didn't have even a shred of conscience left, Victor wouldn't be the only one dead right now."

The three sisters froze when his eyes passed over them, their blood turning to ice. They couldn't help trembling in fear.

His gaze landed on George and Jennifer again. "As for you two, you did give me life. So today, I'll repay that debt in full."

With a roar, he gathered the last of his strength and plunged the fruit knife straight into his own chest, right where his heart was. Blood sprayed from his mouth in a bright red arc.

"Chris!" George and Jennifer threw themselves at him, calling his name through sobs.

But to Christian, their voices were distant and muffled, as if he were underwater. His vision spun wildly; his body could no longer hold him up. He collapsed, one arm reaching weakly toward his parents.

He began to murmur, half-singing the lullaby he'd learned as a child. "Mama… loves… her baby… most… Yeah, right. To hell with that…"

His voice faded, and his outstretched arm fell limply to the floor.

"Chris!"

"Chris, no! Wake up!" Jennifer clutched him to her chest, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. "I do love you, I really do. I was wrong. I was wrong from the very start…"

George kneeled beside them, his hands shaking violently as he stroked Christian's face. He mumbled, "How did things end up like this? How did it come to this? Chris…"

The three sisters had just watched two nightmares unfold back-to-back. They kneeled in a daze, their faces blank, as if their souls had been ripped from their bodies. What happened that day would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

The living room was a wreck. The thick metallic stench of blood clawed at everyone's nerves.

Hilda was the first to snap out of it. She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, her voice trembling as she choked out, "Mom, Dad."

A bit of clarity returned to Jennifer's eyes. She looked down at Christian's body and gently stroked his pale, thin face, whispering, "It's my fault. It's all my fault. I never should've taken it out on him."

George stared at the two bodies on the floor. One belonged to his biological son, and the other belonged to his adopted son. In a single day, both were gone.

Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave. He regretted trusting lies, regretted passing judgment without ever investigating, and regretted how harshly he'd treated his own child.

But it was too late for regret. His sons were already dead.

In an instant, the imposing chairman of a company who dominated the business world looked like a man at death's door. His back hunched, his shoulders sagged, and the dark hair at his temples turned visibly gray.

"Dad!" Hilda gasped.

He waved a hand weakly. "Hilda, you handle things from here."

She was silent for a long moment before finally nodding. "Alright. Dad, go rest. I'll take care of everything."

George didn't move. He just stared blankly at Christian's body, his eyes clouded with endless pain.