I collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud, cold sweat dripping down my forehead as pain shot through my body. My mind, clouded with confusion, struggled to make sense of the chaos.
I had no idea what was going on.
Then Chester spoke up, his voice cutting through my haze.
"Gregory," he said with a wounded tone, "this morning, seven old women came looking for you. They all said you needed to ‘take responsibility.’”
He sighed dramatically as he added, "They even slapped me, thinking I was you."
I caught the sly glint in his eyes.
Only then did it hit me that I’d been framed again.
Before I could say anything, Irene grabbed her purse and slammed it into my chest.
"Gregory!" she yelled. "You bastard, you’ve lost your mind! I used to feel sorry for you, but now I see that marrying you off to that seventy-year-old rich woman is exactly what you wanted, to feed your fetish!"
Her voice rose, shaking with fury. "All these years, I had no idea you were into this kind of thing. You’re so damn hypocritical! And now, you’ve dragged Chester into this mess! You deserve everything that’s coming to you!"
She didn’t ask for proof or question a single word. Her fury blinded her to the truth, and her belief in Chester’s one-sided story strengthened her conviction.
I swallowed the blood in my mouth, glaring at both my father and Irene.
"Chester is lying!" I said through clenched teeth.
Before I could get another word out, my father punched me hard in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of me.
"From now on," he yelled, "I'm taking back your shares, and we're done. You’re no longer my son!"
Then he threw a disownment letter at me, his voice ice-cold and emotionless. "Sign it!"
It was basically official proof that we would no longer have any connection as father and son.
Meanwhile, Irene crossed her arms, shooting me a cold stare. "Someone like you doesn’t deserve shares, and you sure as hell don’t deserve to be Uncle David's son! Chester's way better than you. He’d never lie! Don’t even think about trying to flip this on us!"
Seeing their unwavering loyalty to Chester, he smiled smugly and looked at me with clear provocation.
Realizing this, a lump grew in my throat. Feelings of rage and grief washed over me, perhaps both at once. I tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. Instead, I responded with a bitter, self-deprecating smile, the only thing I could manage.
Then I took the pen and the disownment letter and signed my name.
None of this useless, fragile love or this family mattered anymore.
I didn’t need them.
"Our engagement party and yours with that old rich woman are happening on the same day," Irene added, her tone ice cold. "When the time comes, just go to the hotel yourself."
Then she turned and walked away with my father and Chester.
After that, I didn’t hear from any of them again.
I thought about running away, but every time, I’d be caught within minutes and dragged back.
...
The moment I walked into the hotel on the day of the engagement party, I was greeted with sneers and whispers.
"Did you hear? Gregory’s a player, always sleeping with a bunch of old women," one guest said, barely trying to keep their voice down.
Another one chimed in, "He’s a freak. Worse than his brother Chester. At least Miss Irene saw through him early and picked a better guy."
"Ugh, look at him. He’s disgusting," the other guest snickered, throwing a disgusted glance in my direction.
Irene, my father, and Chester were chatting and laughing nearby.
When they saw me, their eyes shot daggers.
Each look hit harder than the last.
I tried to find a quiet spot to sit, but the maid and butler were on me in an instant, dragging me to the dressing room. Eight big guys stood behind me, like they thought I might try to make a run for it before the wedding.
After they finished putting me in the tuxedo, my dad stepped forward to share the big news. Irene and Chester moved into their spots and greeted everyone with their impressively perfect smiles.
Thunderous applause filled the hall.
Everyone praised them as a perfect match, like they were made for each other.
Then, the rich old woman I saw earlier appeared in a red evening gown, smiling as she took the stage.
Right there, the crowd stifled their laughter.
They knew the wealthy woman had significant financial influence because she invested in many businesses, so no one dared to offend her. Still, they couldn’t help but find the idea of an old woman marrying a young man ridiculous.
"Gregory Nicholson, please come up to the stage!" she announced.
Right then, the maid pushed me forward.
Under the crowd’s gaze, with Chester’s mocking expression burned into my mind, I forced myself to walk to the old woman’s side.
Once again, applause erupted.
Not out of joy, but in mockery.
It felt like needles stabbing my skin. There was no place to hide.
And then, over the noise, her voice cut through the air.
"What are you clapping for? Dear me, I’m not the one getting engaged to this young man!"
The old woman glanced at the crowd, her eyes filled with disdain, before continuing, “Now, please welcome my granddaughter! She is the one who will be marrying Gregory Nicholson.”
