Bloodline and Betrayal
321 Words
The mansion had never felt so small.
I was on the staircase when I heard them—father and son. Their voices weren’t calm, not anymore. The polished elegance of the house couldn’t disguise the fire igniting inside its walls.
“She is mine!” the son’s voice cracked like thunder.
“Yours?” The father’s reply was a low growl, steady, commanding. “You don’t get to call her yours after the filth you dragged her through.”
Silence followed, and then a sharp sound—the crash of glass shattering. My hand gripped the rail, heart hammering. I shouldn’t have listened, but I couldn’t look away.
The son’s voice came again, dripping venom. “So it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve been waiting all this time, circling her like a vulture. Don’t pretend you’re better than me. You want her because she’s mine.”
The father didn’t hesitate. His voice was iron. “No. I want her because she deserves a man who doesn’t treat her like trash. Because when I look at her, I see fire worth keeping, not a toy to be passed around.”
The son laughed bitterly, but the sound was hollow. “And you think she’ll ever love you? Do you think she’ll choose you over me?”
I pressed closer to the wall, breath shallow. The father’s next words sank into me like a secret promise:
“She already has.”
For the first time in his life, the son was silent.
Then his rage erupted—fists slamming against the table, his voice breaking. “You’ll regret this, old man! Both of you will!”
Footsteps thundered, storming toward the door, and I barely had time to move before he burst out of the room. His eyes found me on the staircase—dark, broken, dangerous.
And in that gaze, I knew:
This wasn’t over.
It was just the beginning of his revenge.
- Writer
