chapter315

Elijah—or so Tarquin thought—was like a small, provoked beast. Without a single word of warning, he charged forward and threw a lightning-fast punch.

Tarquin, stunned by the sudden aggression, narrowly dodged the attack, retreating several steps. "Elijah! What on earth has gotten into you?"

"Save your breath! If you think you're so tough, fight me!"

Evan’s face was a mask of pure fury as he launched a relentless assault. Tarquin, of course, couldn't bring himself to strike his own son, but Evan’s movements were surprisingly skilled. Tarquin was forced into a desperate dance of dodging and retreating. Furniture was shoved aside, vases shattered, and the sound of breaking glass echoed through the high-ceilinged room.

Worried that the shards might injure the boy, Tarquin moved to restrain him, only to be met with a direct hit from his own flesh and blood. Though Evan was young, the punch carried the weight of his indignation, striking Tarquin hard enough to draw blood from his lip.

Tarquin froze, his mind reeling in a repetitive loop: My son hit me. My son actually hit me. It wasn't just his face that stung; it was his heart. The pride of a father felt as though it had been shattered into as many pieces as the porcelain on the floor.

Lowell chose that exact moment to walk into the chaos. He stood paralyzed for a heartbeat before rushing to step between them. "Whoa! Elijah, calm down! Let's talk about this!"

Evan pulled back his fist instantly; his anger was reserved for Tarquin, and he had no desire to involve an innocent bystander. "Mr. Lowell, move aside!"

Mr. Lowell?

"Elijah, you're clearly thinking straight," Lowell said, trying to de-escalate. "You recognize me. Then you surely know who he is?"

Lowell assumed the boy was having a tantrum and had forgotten his father's identity. But 'Elijah' shot back with ice-cold clarity, "Of course I know. He’s the world's number one jerk! Tarquin Bradford—the ultimate coward!"

The world's number one jerk? Lowell's eyes nearly popped out of his head. To hit your father was one thing, but to insult him with such calculated vitriol was unheard of in the Bradford household.

"Elijah, you... you..."

"Get out of the way! I’m going to teach him a lesson," Evan declared, his small frame trembling with rage. "Bullying a woman? What kind of man does that make you? If you’re so brave, try bullying someone who can fight back!"

In Evan's eyes, blood relations meant nothing if the man in question dared to hurt their mother. Their mother, whom they cherished and protected with their lives, was the one line Tarquin should never have crossed.

"Elijah, wait," Lowell caught a crucial detail. "Who exactly did your father bully?"

Evan didn't hesitate. "He bullied my mom!"

Lowell was dumbfounded. "Your mother isn't even here. How could your father have bullied her? You must have misunderstood something."

"I didn't misunderstand anything! Ask him! Let him tell you if I’m lying!"

Lowell instinctively turned to Tarquin. The tycoon had been silent, his spirit bruised more than his lip. Hearing the accusation, Tarquin pressed his lips into a thin, grim line and stared directly at 'Elijah'.

"A real man stands by his actions," Evan challenged, his brow furrowed. "If you can't own up to it, you're nothing but a coward!"

Tarquin’s eyes narrowed, a flash of cold severity passing through them as he finally spoke. "The 'mom' you’re referring to... is it Elysia?"

"Of course! She’s the only mom I have!"

Tarquin clenched his jaw, a surge of dark, complicated anger rising within him. He didn't blame the boy anymore; instead, his thoughts turned toward the woman he believed had poisoned his son's mind.

Elysia! He thought, the name tasting like ash. So, this is the game you’re playing now.