Celix pulled into the long driveway of his villa, the engine of his sleek sports car purring like a satisfied beast. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow across the horizon, but the sight did little to calm the storm of thoughts raging in his mind. The memory of the lecture hall, the faces of students he had ignored, and the lingering questions about what had really happened the previous night were all swirling inside him. Even the smooth, powerful ride through the coastal roads hadn't been enough to soothe him.
As the gates of the villa opened and the familiar façade of the house his mother had gifted him came into view, he felt a faint sense of relief. This place had always been his refuge, away from the shadow of his father and the constant pressure of being an heir to the empire. Here, at least, he could breathe just a little.
But as he pulled up to the front entrance, something was off. A black car a familiar one was parked at the edge of the driveway. His father's car.
Celix's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Of all the things he had expected today, seeing his father here was the last. This wasn't the family's main estate; this villa had always been his mother's gift, a sanctuary meant for him. His father rarely, if ever, came here.
"What the hell is he doing here?"Celix thought, a wave of irritation washing over him.Growing up,his relationship with his father has always been on bad terms.
They were just..strangers living under the same roof playing house.
Steeling himself, Celix got out of the car and slammed the door shut with a little more force than necessary. The ocean breeze played with his hair as he walked up the steps to the entrance. The tension in his body grew with every step, memories of his father's cold, distant presence rising like ghosts to meet him.
When he entered the villa, the first thing he noticed was the silence. His father was waiting for him in the living room, standing near the large window that overlooked the sea. The man's tall, imposing figure was framed by the last golden rays of sunlight, casting long shadows across the floor.
Claton Magnas was a man who commanded respect wherever he went, not through warmth or kindness, but through sheer force of will. His hair was meticulously styled, and his tailored suit gave him the appearance of a man who always had control over every aspect of his life. His sharp blue eyes, the same color as Celix, were cold and calculating, assessing everything and everyone with an air of detached authority.
"Father," Celix greeted, his voice tight, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Claton turned around slowly, his expression unreadable. "I thought it was time we spoke."
Celix crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "We don't usually 'speak.'" He tried to keep his voice casual, but there was an edge of bitterness he couldn't quite suppress.
Claton raised an eyebrow, unamused. "That's because you spend all your time hiding away in this villa instead of being at home where you belong."
"I prefer it here," Celix said flatly. "Mom gave me this place. It's where I feel closer to her."
At the mention of his mother, something flickered in his father's eyes—something hard, cold. "Your mother is gone, Celix," Claton said, his voice like ice. "It's time you stopped hiding behind her memory."
Celix's body stiffened, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't expected his father to come here and speak of his mother with such casual dismissal. "What are you talking about?"
Claton stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Celix's. "I came to talk to you about the future, Celix. It's time you stop living in the past. You have an empire to inherit, responsibilities you've been avoiding for too long."
Celix couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father had always been cold, distant, more of a figure of authority than an actual parent. But to speak of his mother, the woman who had been the center of Celix's world, as if she were just a passing memory—it was more than he could stand.
"I'm still grieving," Celix said, his voice rising, anger beginning to bubble in his chest. "She was my mother. How can you just forget her so easily? She was your wife for decades!"
Claton expression didn't change, but there was a steely determination in his voice when he spoke again. "She was my wife, yes. And I respected her. But she's gone, Celix. No amount of grieving or holding onto the past will bring her back. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can focus on what truly matters—your future."
Celix felt a surge of disbelief and fury. He had expected many things from his father, but this level of cold indifference toward the woman they had both lost was beyond anything he had ever imagined.
"She mattered!" Celix shouted, his voice breaking. "She wasn't just someone you could 'respect' from a distance. She was everything—to me, to this family. How can you stand there and talk about her like this?"
Claton's gaze hardened, and he straightened, his posture as rigid as ever. "Because I understand something you clearly don't, Celix. People die. And when they do, life moves on. You have responsibilities now. It's time you start acting like the heir to the Magnas empire and not a grieving child."
Celix's fists clenched at his sides. "You want me to forget about her? Just like that?"
"I want you to grow up," Claton replied sharply. "You've had your time to mourn. But there's more to life than clinging to the memory of the dead."
Celix felt like he had been slapped. The air between them was filled with tension, the kind of tension that had always existed but had never erupted quite like this. All the years of his father's strictness, his cold demeanor, and the silent expectations he had placed on Celix ,they were all coming to a head in this moment.
"How can you say that?" Celix demanded, his voice raw with emotion. "She was your wife for decades. How can you just… move on like that? It's like she didn't even matter to you."
For the first time, something flickered in Claton's eyes—something like anger, or perhaps it was pain, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "She mattered. But I'm not going to let grief cripple me, and neither should you. You have an empire to inherit, Celix,A future. It's time you learn to behave like the heir you are."
Celix's chest heaved as he struggled to contain his anger. "I can't believe you," he muttered, shaking his head. "You always cared more about the business, about power, than you ever cared about her—or me."
Claton's jaw tightened. "That's not true. But I won't coddle you, Celix. You need to toughen up. The world won't wait for you to be ready."
Celix glared at his father, his anger simmering just below the surface. "You don't understand anything."
For a moment, the two of them stood there in silence, the tension between them so thick it felt suffocating. Then, Claton let out a long breath, his face impassive once more.
"You can be angry all you want, but the truth remains," Claton said, his voice low but firm. "Your mother is gone, and nothing will change that. What you need to do now is think about the future. You have a bright one ahead of you if you stop wallowing in the past."
Celix didn't respond. He couldn't. His mind was racing, and the anger and pain swirling inside him made it impossible to find the right words. He had always known that his father was cold, but this… this was something else entirely.
Claton straightened his suit jacket, his demeanor as composed as ever. "I'm heading back to the estate. Think about what I said, Celix. It's time for you to come home."
With that, Claton turned and walked towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the silent villa. Celix watched him go, a storm of emotions surging within him. The front door clicked shut, and for a moment, the silence in the villa was deafening.
Celix stood there, frozen, as his father's words echoed in his mind. His mother's face flashed before his eyes—the warmth of her smile, the way she had always made him feel safe, loved. And now she was gone. And his father wanted him to forget. To move on. To be the heir he had been groomed to be.
The weight of it all suddenly crashed down on him like a tidal wave. His legs gave out, and he sank to his knees, his hands trembling as they gripped the cold marble floor. His chest tightened, the pain of grief so intense it felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.
A sob escaped his throat, raw and broken, and then another. The dam he had so carefully constructed to contain his grief, his pain, his anger—everything—finally shattered.
He cried, his sobs coming in waves, each one more gut-wrenching than the last. For his mother, for the loss of the one person who had loved him unconditionally, for the father who would never understand him, and for the crushing weight of expectations he wasn't sure he could ever live up to.
The villa, once a place of solace, now felt empty, hollow. His mother's absence was palpable, and for the first time since her death, Celix let himself truly feel the depth of that loss.
He didn't know how long he stayed there, on the floor, tears streaming down his face