They Who Slaughtered Hope 🌈| 1-2 Updates a Month

Chapter 13

The florist rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "Has Chase come back yet?"

"He did, actually. He left before either of us were awake and went to a friend's house."

"Is that so..." Lennox murmured, unconvinced. He speculated that he had been out all night. The question was, where had he gone? "Well, I'm all finished here, I'll go and—"

"Set the table. Your dad's coming home for dinner, so don't half-ass it."

Lennox now understood why she had wanted to wait until supper to decide Renato's fate. The florist had managed to avoid him for so long, and now 'Daddy Dearest' had decided to casually show up for dinner? Ever since the Verita party—that he still knew nothing about—it felt like his father had been more active in the family's matters. And he didn't think that was a good sign.

He exhaled, getting out the ironed tablecloth and napkins from the closet. The silverware, glasses and plates were pulled from a light wooden cabinet with glass insets. Lennox set aside a broken, blood-streaked china plate that lingered atop the other unmarked plates. He despised the china dishes that had caused so much of his blood and tears to fall at his father's hands.

This blue and white plate in particular marked the last face-to-face encounter Lennox had with his dad. It was when he was seventeen, steadily eclipsing his last years of high school without a clear career path. It was also when Lennox first became a failure in his father's eyes. He had neglected to join Wade in a military career and refused to be an easily discarded toy for the Verita Aser. It was also the first—and last—time he stood up to his father. And he paid the price for his defiance, in blood and scars. In screams of anguish and searing, unforgettable pain to the head. But despite all that had happened, Lennox was forced to put the plate, blood and all, back into the cabinet as an ever-present reminder not to disobey one's parents.

Then Wade left. He became lost in his commitment to the Verita Aser. Lost in his desire for power, for fame, for titles and glory and recognition. And Lennox despised him for it. So today, he placed the centrepiece—a bouquet of 'fuck you' flowers—on the table, a silent protest to the injustice of his household.

And then he heard a jingle and the footsteps of his father. Long ago Lennox had learned to memorise the sound of steel-toed boots clomping on tile, the same noise that paralyzed him now. The inhospitable marble tile only reminded Lennox that this cold, dreary home was meant to house guests. Its purpose wasn't to be warm and welcoming. It never had done that for him, not in all the years he had lived there.

Not even when his father was gone.

Lennox's mother was the only one brave enough to greet Wade. "Wade, darling, you're home! I wasn't expecting you until later, what changed?"

Wade's imposing, tall physique shifted, his eyes glacial in both colour and demeanour. "Leave me be, woman. I have better things to do than play house and answer your silly questions. Mel wouldn't ask me such trivial things."

Emily was unfazed until he mentioned Mel, the woman whom Wade spent all his time with rather than being with who he considered to be a second-rate wife.

"If she's so great, then why don't you go have her cook dinner for you," she grumbled.

Lennox knew that those words would irk his father. He wasn't looking forward to the maelstrom that would surely follow. So, he piped in, "Hey, Mum, I think you should go and check on the food in the oven. Give Dad a minute to take off his hat." He could only hope his mother would take the hint.

"Ah, if it isn't our resident family failure," his father started, a sneer washing over his face. His eyes roved around the house, settling on Renato and lingering there. "And his company, I see. Lennox, a word, please?"