Chapter 4 I'm Your Father!
903 Words
Roman's earlier arrogance had dissipated at the sight of the child, his legs feeling somewhat limp.
If it weren't for the onlookers, he would have been willing to kiss the kid's shoes. Though it would be a blow to his pride, stirring up trouble with the Gellar family's little prince would surely lead to a severe reprimand from the family.
This little kid was Franklin Ridley, who couldn't resist the urge to playfully punish Roman who spoke ill of his mother. Yet, the moment he was addressed as "little prince", it left him bewildered, causing a momentary pause in his actions.
When he had lifted the bottle to strike Roman earlier, the words he had heard made him wish to bash Roman's head in.
But why had this guy changed so much all of a sudden?
Why was he being so nice now?
Whatever, Franklin didn't care. Anyone in this bar who spoke ill of his mother wouldn't get away unscathed!
Franklin found a long stick and aimed it at Roman.
Not content with just hitting Roman, he struck others in the face with the stick too.
Being short in stature, Franklin aimed for private parts as the adults stood up.
The scene was chaotic with the refined young men scrambling to evade Franklin's attacks.
Roman, slumped on the ground with blood flowing from his head, felt dizzy and immobilized. Despite his physical state, his mind raced with calculations.
It was weird, he thought. The little prince was typically frail and often caught in fits of coughing or fainting spells. So how did he suddenly get this much fight in him today, laying out so many?
And from his actions, it appeared he wouldn't easily relent.
Franklin's stick struck Roman once more, causing him to clutch his head and cry out like a wounded animal.
"Stop, stop, little prince, I apologize!"
As Franklin hesitated, preparing to withdraw the stick, a large hand firmly gripped it.
The hand, with pronounced knuckles, resembled a sculpture and was adorned with an obsidian bracelet.
Franklin raised his gaze to meet the piercing stare of a remarkably handsome man in a dignified gray suit, emanating an aura that captivated all who beheld him. His visage was defined by sharply chiseled features, starkly contrasting with the young boy's gentle green eyes. Yet, at this moment, the man's countenance remained icy and devoid of warmth, exuding an air of detached coolness.
Franklin was astonished beyond words. Strange! This man bore an uncanny resemblance to himself, like two figures cast from the same mold, one towering and the other diminutive.
Though Franklin had never met this imposing figure before, he felt a primal fear rise within him, akin to a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat.
Franklin trembled involuntarily, prompting him to take a cautious step back, his eyes fixed on the gloominess lurking within the man's piercing gaze.
However, Franklin was not one to easily yield ground despite his tender years. He didn't want to look scared, so he forced himself to stand tall, fists clenched.
Franklin, in his audacity, let out a growl in his childlike voice. "Who the f**k are you? Get lost!"
Found it amusing, Maxwell was unable to suppress a faint chuckle at the unexpected defiance of his young son.
His voice, deep and icy, cut through the tension. "Look closely! I am your father! You are my son!"
Maxwell had brought Anthony Gellar, his son, to the hotel, but within an hour, he realized Anthony had snuck away.
Maxwell had received word that someone had spotted Anthony in the vicinity, so he gathered a group of individuals to track his son down.
Given Anthony's delicate health condition, he needed to be always under someone's watchful eye.
However, Maxwell was taken aback when he discovered that his son had not only entered a bar but also engaged in a physical altercation.
Roman lay on the ground, his face bloodied and his vision blurred by the crimson haze.
His cries grew louder as he recognized the newcomer. Here came his savior!
"Uncle Maxwell! Uncle Maxwell, save me! Please help me!"
Roman lunged forward, attempting to grasp Maxwell's leg, but was brutally kicked away by Maxwell.
Franklin scrutinized the man before him, acknowledging Maxwell's handsomeness.
However, his small hands clasped tightly together now, showcasing his anxiety.
Franklin had never feared anyone besides his mother, but this man emitted an aura that chilled him to the core.
Handsome or not, a man more intimidating than his mother was a no-go.
Before Franklin could react, the stick was snatched away, yanking him off balance and sending him tumbling forward.
Maxwell's fingers wrapped around the back of the child's neck, lifting him like a kitten by the scruff of its neck.
"Let me go! Put me down!" Franklin's small legs flailed helplessly in the air before he ran out of steam.
After a frantic chase and beatings, he had exhausted all his energy.
Like a limp fish, Franklin was at Maxwell's mercy.
Despite his protests, Maxwell carried him off towards the parking lot.
Franklin's heart raced. Who is this man? And where is the man taking me?
I need to find my mother! I don't want to get kidnapped!
Franklin kicked in vain again, but a stern glance from the handsome man silenced him.
The boy's bravery vanished in the presence of this man who resembled him so much.
- Writer
