Warren's POV
The more I watched their every move, the heavier my chest got as if a boulder pressed down on it.
Setting my chopsticks aside, I stood and said coldly, “I’m done.”
Ray put on a show of surprise. “Already, dude? Elvira's cooking is a rare treat.”
As he spoke, he reached over with a napkin and wiped the corner of Elvira’s mouth.
The gesture was so natural, so practiced, that it made my blood boil.
Still, I ignored them and walked out of the dining room.
But I heard footsteps rushing after me.
Shortly, Elvira caught up and grabbed my sleeve. “Warren, don’t get it wrong. I only wanted to help Ray. It’s not easy for him living alone, so I—”
“So you learned to cook for him? Learned to do housework for him?” I cut her off, my voice dripping with scorn. “Miss Bandman, you really do spoil your little junior, don’t you?”
Her teeth sank into her lip as she hurried to explain. “No! Ray’s stomach is weak. He can’t handle takeout. I was afraid he’d go hungry, so I learned to cook. And he really is talented. He’s helped me so much at work. The project with the French client, without him, it wouldn’t have gone through—”
“Enough!” I raised a hand, silencing her, and shoved open the door to my study.
But the sight inside froze my blood.
My mother’s portrait hung crooked on the wall, and the glass across the frame was cracked in a jagged line.
Beneath it, her diary and several old letters lay scattered across the desk, soaked and stained with dried yellow patches.
The acrid stench of cat urine filled the room.
“What the hell is this?!” My voice shook with fury.
Elvira stammered, “M-Maybe one of Ray’s pets got in by accident—”
“Accident?!” I roared, then snatched up the urine-soaked diary. The fragile paper crumbled in my hands. “These are my mother’s keepsakes! And you let some animals piss all over them?!”
“Warren, calm down!” she pleaded. “Ray’s cats and dogs are usually well-trained. This must’ve been an accident.”
I shoved her hand away and pointed to the bookshelf, where photo albums were chewed through with deep bite marks. “And that? Was that an accident, too? All of my mother’s things were ruined!”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
At that moment, Ray strolled up to the doorway with a glass of red wine in hand. “Sorry about that, dude,” he said casually. “My pets don’t like strangers. They tend to get destructive when they smell something unfamiliar.”
He took a slow sip, then smiled. “But hey, out with the old, in with the new, right? Don’t worry, I’ll have those photos reprinted tomorrow. They’ll look exactly the same.”
That was it.
I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Get out! Take your filthy animals and get the hell out of my house!”
But Ray didn’t flinch. He arched a brow, almost amused. “Bro, let’s talk this through. No need for violence.”
“Warren, stop!” Elvira cried out, rushing forward.
She pried at my hands, her nails digging deep into my arm. “Are you crazy? Where’s he supposed to go in the middle of the night?!”
Her eyes brimmed with worry. But not for me, but for him.
“I don’t give a damn where he goes!” I shouted, throwing her hand aside. “He can sleep in a park, under a bridge. I don’t care. But he will not live here!”
“No!” Elvira's voice rose into a scream. “He’s my junior, and I will take care of him!”
