Mrs. Alister's voice was sharp, a blade laced with bitterness. "So, you're really going to tell the whole world about your bastard son?" Her words dripped with contempt, every syllable heavy with the years of resentment that had been festering between them.
Mr. Alister stood still, his posture rigid but weary, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. His eyes, bloodshot from sleepless nights, met hers with quiet resolve. "It's the only way to make things right by my son," he said, his voice strained but firm, as though he were trying to convince himself more than her.
A cold laugh escaped Mrs. Alister's lips, sharp as glass. "Oh, so because I failed to give you a son, you want to parade your illegitimate child in front of everyone? Go ahead. Let the world see your failure. But don't you dare think for a second that it won't ruin everything—this company, our lives—everything I've built while you were out there doing God knows what with her." Her face was pale, her cheeks flushed with the heat of her fury. The words came in a rush, as if the dam had broken, spilling out the frustration and betrayal she'd carried for so long.
Mr. Alister's face tightened, the muscles around his jaw clenching. But he didn't respond. He couldn't. How could he argue with her? How could he defend the indefensible? He had betrayed her. He had been selfish, careless. And now, the consequences of that betrayal were inescapable.
Her eyes narrowed, scanning his face, searching for some flicker of regret, of understanding. But all she saw was a man defeated by his own mistakes. The bitterness in her chest swelled, her heart hardening with the realization that this was the man she was still tethered to—the man who had shattered everything she had ever known.
"Don't act like you care about saving your son's reputation when you've let ours rot." Her voice cracked with the weight of her words, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to show weakness.
A long silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken truths. Mr. Alister stood motionless, as if paralyzed by the enormity of the situation. His eyes were clouded with guilt, with grief, and something deeper—an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He had never wanted this. He never wanted to hurt her, but in a twisted way, he had. And now, all he could do was stand there, bearing the weight of his choices.
"I know," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The words hung in the air, a confession of failure, an acknowledgment of everything they had lost. He could feel the distance growing between them, widening with each breath they took. The woman he had once loved, the woman who had stood by him through thick and thin, was slipping away, and no amount of apologies would ever bring her back.
Mrs. Alister's eyes softened for the briefest moment—just a flicker of something vulnerable—before her expression hardened once again. She had lived in the shadow of his affair for far too long, her pride and dignity bruised beyond repair. And yet, she stayed. Not because she loved him still, but because of Jade. Because her daughter deserved a semblance of stability, a semblance of a family, even if it was built on lies.
She turned away, her movements swift and deliberate, as if she couldn't stand to look at him for another second. "You do what you have to do, but don't expect me to stand by you this time," she said coldly, her back to him as she walked toward the door. Her voice, though composed, trembled with the weight of everything unsaid.
Mr. Alister didn't move. He couldn't. He just stood there, the man who had once been in control of everything, now a shadow of himself, watching as his wife walked away. The silence in the room was deafening.
---
Xavier leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching Laura. The pill bottle sat untouched on the table between them, a silent testament to her stubbornness. She sat hunched in her chair, her frail hands nervously gripping a glass of water.
"Mom," Xavier began, his voice low and calm, though there was an edge to it. "Take your medicine. Don't make this a fight."
Laura let out a weary sigh, her eyes fixed on the floor. "I don't like how it makes me feel."
"And how do you think it makes me feel seeing you like this?" His tone softened, but his expression remained firm.
Her fingers tightened around the glass. After a pause, she said quietly, "Your father's hosting a get-together tomorrow evening. He really wants you to come. That's what he was trying to tell you last time... but you didn't stick around to hear him out."
Xavier's jaw clenched, a flicker of anger flashing across his face. "And why do I need to be there?"
Laura hesitated, then met his eyes, her voice trembling. "He wants to reconcile. He wants to be part of your life again."
The words hung heavy in the air. Xavier stared at her, his mind racing. Reconcile? After everything? A bitter laugh escaped his lips, and he shook his head. But seeing the pleading look in her eyes, the tension in his shoulders eased.
"Fine," he said at last, his voice clipped. "I'll go. But only if you take your medicine."
Without a word, Laura picked up the pills, swallowing them with a grimace. Xavier reached out, patting her head gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good girl."
Hours later, Xavier stepped into the lavish Alister mansion. The polished floors gleamed under the glow of crystal chandeliers, and the murmur of conversation filled the grand hall. The scent of champagne and expensive perfume lingered in the air.
This is their world, he thought, his eyes scanning the room. The suits, the forced smiles, the perfect facades—it was all so different from what he'd known growing up.
"Yo, Xavier!" Damon's voice broke through his thoughts. Xavier turned to see his friends approaching, Damon grinning and Alexander looking faintly exasperated.
"You clean up well," Damon teased, gesturing to Xavier's sharp black suit. "Didn't know you had it in you."
Xavier smirked faintly, tugging at his collar. "This thing's too tight."
"You'll live," Gilbert said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And don't worry, we've got your back."
Their banter eased some of the tension in his chest, but it was short-lived. His attention was drawn to a girl weaving gracefully through the crowd.
Her deep mocha skin seemed to glow under the soft lights, and her black hair, streaked with vibrant purple, cascaded in polished waves. She wore a cream turtleneck sweater that hugged her slender frame, paired with a delicate gold necklace that rested just above her collarbone. There was an effortless poise in the way she carried herself, yet her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with a warmth that seemed out of place in a room so carefully curated.
As she approached, Xavier's chest tightened. He knew who she was.
"Hi," she said, her voice light and melodic, extending a hand toward him. "You must be Xavier. I'm Jade Alister, your sister."
Xavier's lips pressed into a thin line. "Step-sister," he corrected, his gravelly tone laced with indifference.
For a moment, Jade's smile faltered, a flicker of something—hurt?—crossing her face. But she recovered quickly, her determination shining through. "Well, step-sister or not, I'm really glad you're here. I was worried you might not show up... and, uh, miss the big announcement."
Xavier arched a brow, suspicion creeping into his gaze. "Big announcement?"
Realizing her slip, Jade flushed faintly. "Oh, it's nothing," she said, brushing it off with an awkward laugh. "Just... nothing important." She shifted slightly, catching sight of his undone cuff. "Here, let me fix that."
Before he could protest, her hands were on his wrist, adjusting the fabric with practiced precision. Xavier's muscles tensed, his instinct to pull back clashing with a strange, unexpected warmth in her touch. She worked quickly, her movements steady, and for a moment, he was reminded of Ruby. His chest ached at the thought.
"There," she said, stepping back with a satisfied grin. "All set."
Xavier muttered a quiet "thanks," his gaze dropping to the cuff she'd just fixed. Her presence stirred something unfamiliar in him—a mix of resentment, curiosity, and a faint, reluctant appreciation for her kindness.
Across the room, Mr. Alister stood with his wife, his gaze fixed on Xavier and Jade. A smile spread across his face, pride evident in his expression.
Mrs. Alister, however, was less subtle. Her scowl was sharp and unmistakable, her eyes narrowing as she watched the pair.
"I'll be right back," Jade said suddenly, her attention shifting to a group of friends nearby. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"
Xavier watched her retreat, the bounce in her step and the effortless way she drew others in leaving him momentarily speechless. He could see why people gravitated toward her, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in this world.
What have I gotten myself into? he thought, his gaze lingering on Jade as the crowd buzzed around him.