I Became Rich With My System

Chapter 9

“What… what are you talking about, Liam?” Aria asked, her eyes wide with shock. Her hand trembled as it reached toward him, but she stopped halfway, afraid to touch him and be pushed away again. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m your mother.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, raw and pleading.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the sight of her. I couldn’t let her crumble alone. Stepping closer, I added, steady but heavy, “She’s right. Aria is your mother… and I’m your father. Liam, we’re not lying to you.”

But his eyes—cold, uncertain, almost frightened—cut through me sharper than any blade.

He shook his head violently, his lips curling in anger. “No. I don’t know you. I don’t know her. And my name is not Liam. Don’t… don’t call me that!”

Aria staggered back, as if struck. Her hand flew to her mouth, and a broken sob escaped. I saw her shoulders shake, her tears spilling freely, and for the first time in years, I felt completely powerless. She had carried him for nine months, raised him until fate tore us apart… and now he looked at her as if she were a stranger.

I bent low, bringing myself level with his gaze, ignoring the rejection burning in my chest. “Listen to me, son. Don’t shut me out,” I whispered, my voice rough. “I am your father. I would never lie to you. You had an accident, Liam… that’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been in the hospital. Do you understand?”

His breathing quickened, defiant still. “I don’t believe you!” he snapped. “I don’t believe either of you!”

He tried to say more, but suddenly his words broke off. His hands shot up to his head, clutching tightly as though his skull were being crushed from the inside. His face twisted in agony, and a strangled cry tore out of him.

“Liam!” I shouted, rushing forward. My heart lurched into my throat. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s happening!”

But he couldn’t answer. He writhed, his fingers digging into his hair, his whole body trembling. My gut turned to ice as realization hit me—this wasn’t just anger, something was terribly wrong with his head.

I turned sharply to Aria, my voice almost a roar. “Get the doctor! Now!”

Aria bolted out, her sobs swallowed by panic. I caught Liam before he could fall from the bed, holding him tight against me. His weight felt too light, too fragile. “Hold on, son. Please, hold on,” I whispered desperately, pressing my forehead against his, helpless to ease the pain that tore through him.

Moments later the door burst open. Aria returned, breathless, with a doctor and two nurses at her heels. They swarmed around us instantly, the doctor barking orders while the nurses rushed to stabilize him. Machines beeped wildly, and wires tangled as they tried to get him under control.

“Step back, sir!” one nurse commanded sharply.

I hesitated, refusing to let go, but the doctor shot me a firm look. “We need space. Let us work!”

Aria and I were both pulled away gently but forcefully. I resisted, my fists clenching, but Aria’s hand found mine, squeezing as tears streamed down her cheeks. The nurses guided us out, their movements brisk and unyielding.

And then—slam.

The door closed in our faces, shutting us out.

Through the small glass window, I could still see flashes of movement: hands pressing, wires adjusting, the doctor leaning over Liam. His cries had faded into muffled gasps, and each sound was a knife twisting deeper inside me.

I pressed my palm against the cold door, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. My son was in there, fighting for his life again, and I was powerless.

Beside me, Aria collapsed into a chair, her sobs breaking the sterile silence of the hallway.

And all I could do was stand there—helpless, furious, terrified—while strangers fought to pull my boy back from the edge.

The hours bled into one another, each second dragging like a weight against my chest. Aria’s hands trembled as they clutched mine, her face pale and weary as we sat outside the room where they worked on Liam. I couldn’t tell whose heartbeat I heard louder—hers or mine.

Finally, the door cracked open. The doctor stepped out, tugging off his gloves, his expression caught between calm professionalism and the heaviness of bad news.

“It’s complications after surgery,” he said at last, his voice even but firm, as though he had rehearsed those words many times before.

Aria immediately straightened, her eyes widening. “Complications?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Doctor, he—he can’t recognize me. He looked at me like I was a stranger. He doesn’t even know his own name.”

Her words trembled as if each one cut her deeper. Tears glossed her eyes as she clutched her chest. “What is happening to my son?” she asked, her voice shattering with the weight of a mother’s desperation.

The doctor took a slow breath, then gave a practiced nod. “It might be shock,” he explained softly. “Patients in Liam’s condition sometimes go into shock like this. It can distort memory, identity… even recognition. But don’t worry. We’ll monitor him. When he wakes again, we’ll run a new CT scan to determine what’s going on inside his head.”

The way he spoke—steady, measured—was meant to soothe, but I could see Aria wasn’t soothed at all. She pressed her hands to her mouth, sobbing quietly. The doctor placed a hand briefly on my shoulder. “Stay strong for him. Both of you.” Then he excused himself, leaving us alone in the long, suffocating hallway.

I turned to Aria and pulled her into my arms. “Listen to me,” I whispered against her hair. “He’s still our son. This… this is temporary. You’ll see. He’ll remember us. He’ll come back to us.”

She shook her head against my chest, her sobs muffled. “But Kael… he didn’t even look at me as his mother. He pushed me away.”

I gritted my teeth, my throat burning, but I forced myself to sound steady for her sake. “Then we’ll fight for him, Aria. We’ll remind him who we are, even if it takes a lifetime.”

When the nurses finally let us back into the room, the lights were dimmed, and the machines hummed steadily beside Liam’s bed. Aria collapsed into the chair beside him, her hand instantly finding his, her head resting on the edge of the mattress. Within minutes, exhaustion took her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.

But me… I couldn’t sleep. I stood near the window, the city lights casting long shadows across the floor. My eyes never left Liam. Every rise and fall of his chest, every twitch of his fingers, I guarded like a soldier at post.

My son. My blood. Even if he couldn’t see me as his father, I would stand here until he did.

The broom rasped across the Delacroix marble floor. I had been here since before dawn, wiping, cleaning, fixing what I could—anything to keep my mind from drowning in the hospital room where Liam lay. Each swipe of the broom felt like a battle against helplessness.

“Kael?”

The sound of my name cut through the silence. I stiffened, straightened my back, and turned.

Mia stood a few feet away, her expression seems surprised. Her eyes flicked from the mop in my hand to the bucket at my side, disbelief painted on her face.

She came closer, her heels clicking faintly on the tiles. “Why are you here? Cleaning? You should be with your son in the hospital.”

I forced a faint smile, though my chest tightened. “Hospital bills don’t pay themselves. The doctor won’t wait for my grief.” My voice came out rough, tired, as if each word dragged its own weight.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her hand around mine, stopping the broom mid-motion. The warmth of her touch startled me.

“Kael…” she said softly, her brows furrowing. “Are you okay? If you need any help, you should let me know.”

I glanced at her hand on mine, then back to her eyes. For a moment, I thought of saying yes, of unloading everything onto someone who actually cared. But I couldn’t.

“I’m doing great,” I replied.

Mia hesitated, then shifted the subject. “And Liam? Is he awake?”

I nodded, though my chest burned at the memory. “He’s awake. But… he didn’t recognize anyone. Not even his own name.” I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together before the cracks could show.

Mia gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth.

“The doctor said he’ll be fine soon,” I added quickly, steadying my tone. I had to believe those words; they were the only thing keeping me from breaking.

Just then, the crunch of tires against gravel echoed into the lot. A sleek black car rolled in, its headlights scattering shadows across the floor. Darren’s car.

The door swung open, and Darren stepped out, his tie loose, his expression sharp with surprise as his eyes landed on me.

“Kael?” he called, walking toward me. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

I straightened, leaning on the broom like it was a staff. “As you can see, I’m working.”

His brows drew together. “You’re on leave, Kael. Because of Liam.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Liam is doing well. And if he’s fighting, I have no reason not to come to work.”

Darren studied me for a long second, then sighed. “Always stubborn.”

I tilted my head at him, forcing some curiosity into my tone. “And what about you? What are you doing here at this hour? Where are your wife and child?”

“They went to my father-in-law’s place for breakfast,” Darren replied, rubbing his neck. “He called us in. I had to make a quick stop to get some documents for a report.”

I gave a small nod, understanding more than I let on.

“Oh, and by the way,” Darren added, adjusting his cuff, “my father-in-law asked about you. Asked if you’d be joining us this morning. But… I wasn’t sure what to tell him.”

For a moment, I froze. Darren’s father-in-law—the richest man in the city. A man whose shadow could shield or suffocate anyone who stood beneath it. My mind raced. If I really intended to go against Milton, I couldn’t do it alone. I would need power, allies strong enough to tip the balance. With the president’s support and Darren’s father-in-law behind me… Milton wouldn’t stand a chance.

I inhaled slowly, the broom slipping slightly in my grip. This was dangerous ground, but maybe it was the ground I had to step on.

“Darren,” I said, my voice firm now. He glanced back at me.

“I’ll attend the gathering.”

Darren’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with disbelief.

“Kael… do you even know what you’re saying? Your son is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, and you’re talking about this? How the hell do you want to go there now?”

I clenched my fists, swallowing hard. The weight of Liam’s pale face still burned into my mind, but I couldn’t shake the feeling in my chest. This wasn’t just about sitting and waiting anymore.

“This is what I want, Darren,” I said, my voice rough but steady. “Please… grant it for me.”

Darren stared at me for a long second, his lips parting as if he wanted to argue again. Then he exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Follow me inside.”

We walked down the dim corridor, the hum of the fluorescent lights buzzing above us like gnats in my ears. Darren’s office smelled faintly of cigar smoke and old leather. He shut the door behind us and turned, his eyes sharp as blades.

“Tell me, Kael,” Darren demanded, “what are you all about right now?”

I met his gaze without flinching. “You once told me to relocate my family abroad. You said it was the only way to protect them. But right now…” I shook my head, my throat tightening. “Right now, I don’t think running will save us. What I need is power—the kind of power that can shield them here, no matter what comes.”

His jaw clenched, and his tone turned bitter.

“And you’re thinking of finding that power from Delacroix?”

I let out a breath, the decision already carved into my bones. “Yes.”

Darren slammed his palm against the desk, his voice breaking with anger.

“Kael, you know who that man is! Delacroix is a monster in human skin. He doesn’t care about loyalty, or blood, or family. All he sees is money. He uses people, chews them up, and discards them like mercenaries. You want to put yourself in his hands?”

I stepped forward, my voice trembling but unyielding.

“If it’s about my family… I’ll do anything. Anything, Darren. I don’t care what it costs me.”

For a long moment, Darren just looked at me—like he was searching my face for some trace of hesitation. His shoulders finally sagged, and the fire in his eyes dimmed into reluctant acceptance.

“No problem then,” he said quietly, almost like a surrender. “If that’s what you’ve chosen, Kael… let’s go.”