Byron snapped out of his shock. He jumped back a full foot, trying to put physical distance between himself and the tiny girl pointing at him.
He waved both hands frantically in the air. "No way! Old man, don't listen to her! I can't even keep a cactus alive!"
Byron's chest heaved with panic. "I go to sleep at three in the morning! My apartment is full of empty bottles! She will starve to death if she lives with me!"
Alton saw his opening. He sneered, his chest puffing out again. "At least you know you are useless. Father, this is a circus."
Alton marched toward Cordelia. He dropped his fake smile and reached out with a large, aggressive hand, aiming to grab her wrist.
"You are coming with me. I will hire the strictest etiquette tutors to beat some sense into you," Alton snapped.
Before Alton's fingers could graze her skin, Cordelia moved.
She darted forward like a frightened rabbit. She threw herself at Byron. Her small arms wrapped tightly around Byron's thigh, her fingers gripping the expensive fabric of his tailored trousers. She pressed her entire body against his leg.
Byron froze. His muscles locked up. He looked down at the mop of yellow hair attached to his leg. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, terrified to touch her, terrified to push her away.
Cordelia buried her face deep into the fabric of his trousers, completely hiding her dry eyes. Her shoulders began to shake violently.
"I won't go!" Cordelia screamed. Her voice cracked, tearing through the room with raw, agonizing terror. "I don't want to go with him! He will kill me! Uncle Byron, save me!"
She did not shed a single tear, but with her face completely concealed, the sheer panic vibrating in her vocal cords stabbed into the eardrums of everyone in the room.
Alton's hand hovered in the empty air. His face flushed a dark, ugly purple. He felt the eyes of the servants burning into his back. His dignity was being shredded.
Glenwood watched the girl tremble. His disgust for his eldest son reached a boiling point. The old man slammed his cane into the floor again.
"Enough, Alton!" Glenwood barked. "You have disgraced yourself enough for one day."
Alton ground his teeth together. The muscles in his jaw popped. Desperate to save face, he forced his mouth into a sickeningly sweet smile.
"Cordelia," Alton said, his voice dripping with fake warmth. "I am your biological father. Blood is thicker than water. I was just upset. Come home, and Daddy will buy you new dresses."
Cordelia peeked out from behind Byron's leg. Her eyes were dry and lethal.
"You don't even know my favorite color," Cordelia said, her voice trembling perfectly. "You just want to turn me into a mute puppet so your fake daughter can have everything!"
The words acted like a scalpel, slicing Alton's fake mask right off his face.
Alton's eyes bulged. He lost his mind. "You ungrateful brat!" he spat.
Byron looked down at the tiny girl clinging to his leg. He felt the heat of her small body against his skin. He felt the violent tremors shaking her frame.
A strange, heavy sensation expanded in Byron's chest. The protective instinct he had buried under years of alcohol and parties suddenly clawed its way to the surface.
Byron slowly lifted his head. The lazy, playboy smirk vanished from his face. His blue eyes turned into shards of ice as he glared at his older brother.
"Did you hear her, Alton?" Byron's voice was dangerously low. "She would rather live with a degenerate loser than spend another second with you."
Byron reached down. He hooked his large hand under Cordelia's arm and lifted her off the floor in one smooth motion. He tucked her against his side, his arm wrapping securely around her waist. The hold was awkward, but fiercely possessive.
"I'm taking the kid," Byron announced. He lifted his chin, challenging anyone to stop him.
Alton shook with rage. He pointed a finger at Byron's face. "You will regret this! If you take that burden, I will make sure you never see another dime from the trust fund!"
Byron let out a harsh laugh. He raised his free hand and flipped his brother the middle finger.
"Keep your money," Byron sneered. "I keep the kid."
Glenwood watched the two brothers. A faint, calculating gleam flickered in the old man's eyes. He struck his cane on the floor one last time, sealing the deal.
