Chapter 2
By the time he arrived, Kamron's shoes were completely worn through. His toes stuck out, scraped raw and bleeding from the sharp stones along the road.
But he didn't dare stop.
His mom was still at home, waiting for him to bring back dinner.
At the entrance to the Prestige Club, luxury cars lined the curb, neon lights blazing so brightly they hurt the eyes.
Security guards chased him away like a stray dog.
"Where did this street rat come from? Get lost!" one of them barked. "Don't ruin things for our VIPs!"
Kamron hugged his tattered bag to his chest and shrank into the shadows at the corner.
He waited there until a black Maybach rolled to a stop.
The door opened. Misael stepped out in a tailored designer suit.
On his arm was a woman in a white fur coat, Malaya Wilkins, his newest lover and the current top-trending actress.
They stood together like a magazine spread, dazzling and untouchable.
Kamron recognized him instantly.
Vanessa had once pointed him out in the newspaper and said, That's your dad. He's the hero who builds skyscrapers.
Kamron's eyes lit up. With a sudden burst of strength, he ran forward and clutched tightly onto Misael's pant leg.
"Sir, my mom's here! Can you give us something to eat?" Kamron called out.
Misael was busy fixing Malaya's scarf when Kamron suddenly lunged at him. His brows furrowed into a deep scowl.
He glanced down and saw a grimy little hand clutching his expensive suit pants, worth tens of thousands.
His neat freak instincts kicked in, and he jerked his foot up without thinking.
"Who let this thing in here? Beat it!" he snapped.
He kicked out, not holding back one bit.
Kamron was sent flying like a ragdoll, landing hard on the ground.
His woven bag burst open.
With a loud clatter, the contents spilled all over the ground.
Nothing valuable, just a bunch of washed stones and half a piece of moldy bread.
Misael was about to blow up, but then his gaze landed on that smudged little face staring up at him from the ground.
He froze.
Those eyes, shiny with tears, stubborn, and scared, looked exactly like Vanessa's.
Five years ago, Vanessa had looked at him with that same gaze as she ripped their marriage certificate to pieces.
Misael's eyes were stormy with suppressed rage.
He scanned the crowd with a cold sneer. "Where's Vanessa? Is she hiding somewhere, enjoying the drama?"
"Trying to win pity with some stray kid. Figures, that's just her style," he scoffed.
I was floating right in front of him, screaming in his face, "Ellison, are you blind? That's Kamron! That's your own flesh and blood!"
"Look at his eyebrows, look at his nose. He's just like you! How can you not see it?" I yelled.
But Ellison couldn't see me.
His eyes went straight through my soul, filled with nothing but endless coldness.
Malaya pinched her nose and backed away, looking repulsed. "Misael, this kid smells like something died. Gross."
"No idea where this stray came from, probably just here to cause trouble," she scoffed.
Misael whipped out a handkerchief and scrubbed at his pant leg where Kamron had touched him, like he'd just caught the plague.
Then, without a second thought, he tossed the Hermès handkerchief straight into the trash can.
"Filthy, indeed," Misael said coldly.
Misael stared down at Kamron like he was looking at a pile of garbage.
"Take him to the car," he ordered.
A cruel smirk twisted Misael's lips. "Since Vanessa's too scared to come out, I'll raise this bastard for her."
"Let's see how long she thinks she can hide from me," he sneered.
Kamron didn't care about the pain. He dropped to his knees and frantically started scooping up the stones.
"I can't lose these... They're for Dad to build his skyscrapers..." Kamron whimpered.
A bodyguard's massive hand grabbed him up like he was just a stray kitten.
I threw myself at the bodyguard, swinging wildly, but my fists just went right through him, totally useless.
Ellison, just wait, you were gonna regret this.
When the truth finally hits you, I'll make you get down on your knees and beg Kamron for forgiveness.
The air inside the car was stifling, making it hard to breathe.
The rich scent of leather filled the cabin, but Kamron's musty odor was totally out of place.
Kamron huddled in the far corner, clutching his tattered woven bag to his chest.
He didn't dare move, or even breathe too loudly, afraid he'd dirty this expensive-looking car.
Misael sat beside him, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, unlit.
He turned, his gaze downright menacing as he stared at the ratty bag clutched in Kamron's arms.
Ellison sneered, "Is this what Vanessa taught you?"
Misael snatched the bag from Kamron, his movements harsh, like he was dealing with something he despised.
There was a loud clatter.
He flipped the bag upside down, spilling everything out onto the plush, expensive carpet.
Dozens of strange-looking stones tumbled out, some jagged, some smooth, all scrubbed until they were nearly white.
And that half piece of moldy bread rolled right to Misael's feet.
"Picking up junk and acting like it's some kind of treasure?" Misael scoffed.