He Chose His Son Over Us, Now He Weeps?

Synopsis

Rain hammered against the villa's floor-to-ceiling windows, like someone was throwing water against the glass. I knelt in the entryway, my knees digging into the icy marble floor. My eighteen-year-old son, Alex, stood behind me, his school uniform soaked and stuck to his skinny frame, quiet as a log. Charles walked out of the study, tossing a stack of papers into the puddle. The sheets landed in the water, ink spreading out in messy streaks. "Sign it," Charles said, loosening his cuffs. His voice was icier than the storm outside. "This is a declaration to disown your son. Sign it, and take that worthless brat with you. Get out."