Chapter 5
With that, Robert pulled out his phone, ready to call Andrew.
I reached out and gently stopped him.
"Dad, please, just hold on," I said softly.
He stared at me, a bit taken aback.
"I think this might be more complicated than you think," I said.
I picked up my phone and played a video.
The video was dimly lit, set in a hotel hallway.
Andrew pressed me up against the wall, his eyes bloodshot as he yelled at me. "Julia. What the hell are you trying to do?
"What makes you think you can divorce me? You don't have a job, you don't earn a dime, and I paid for your mom's surgery."
The audio was crystal clear.
Robert's face darkened instantly as he watched the video.
His face was so dark it rivaled the night outside.
He stared at the twisted face of the man in the video, his eyes brimming with disappointment and disbelief.
Robert muttered under his breath, "That bastard..."
Then he looked up at me, his eyes a storm of emotions.
He asked quietly, "Has he always treated you this way?"
I shook my head at first, then gave a small nod, feeling a mix of helplessness and sorrow.
"He wasn't always like this. But people aren't always who you think they are. Sometimes, they change," I said.
Once I was done, I pulled up the final piece of evidence on my phone.
It was an accidental life insurance policy, one where the beneficiary had been changed.
When I showed Robert the photo of the policy with Sophie's name on it, I saw the last glimmer of hope for his son die in his eyes.
Those eyes, hardened by years of experience, finally went completely dark.
In their place was a bone-deep chill and a fury that could tear the world apart.
He didn't say another word.
He just picked up his phone and called Andrew.
The phone barely had time to ring before Andrew picked up.
Robert put it on speaker.
Andrew's voice came through the speaker, slurred with alcohol and tinged with impatience.
"Hello? Who is this?" he asked.
"It's me," Robert replied, his voice eerily calm, with an undercurrent of menace.
There was a sudden silence on the other end.
After a full five seconds, Andrew finally stammered, "Dad? Why are you calling me so late?"
"You have half an hour." Robert cut him off, spitting out each word through clenched teeth. "Get your ass back here."
With that, he hung up.
He turned to me, his voice a bit gentler, but still carrying that unmistakable authority. "Julia, don't go anywhere today. Just stay here and wait.
"I want to see what my son is really made of."
The tension in the study was so thick, it felt like I could barely breathe.
I knew a storm was about to erupt in this family.
And I was the one who kicked off this chaos.
Just then, my phone buzzed again.
It was that same unknown number.
[Nice job. The real drama is about to start.]
Andrew showed up much sooner than I expected.
Less than twenty minutes later, I heard the roar of a car engine downstairs, followed by hurried footsteps.
Robert sat behind his desk in the old armchair, his face unreadable, cold and heavy. He rolled two walnuts in his palm, the quiet clack echoing through the tense room.
I sat quietly on the guest sofa, with a cup of hot tea Tom Foster had just brewed placed in front of me.
I didn't touch the tea; instead, I watched the steam curl up, making my face look hazy and indistinct.
The study door was thrown open with a bang.
Andrew stormed in, reeking of booze and the glitz of the banquet.
He spotted Robert sitting behind the desk, and his face instantly went ghostly pale.
Then his gaze, sharp as a knife, swung over to me.
When he saw me sitting there on the sofa, perfectly fine, the shock in his eyes nearly spilled over.
He probably never imagined that after leaving the hotel, I wouldn't go somewhere to cry or wait for him at home. Instead, I came straight to the old Grant mansion and faced the person he dreaded most.
"Dad..." Andrew stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you want to see me for something?"
He was still pretending, trying to cover it up.
Robert shot him a cold look, said nothing, and pushed my phone across the desk toward him.
Andrew's eyes landed on the phone screen; the photo of him and Sophie together on stage practically lit up the display, impossible to ignore.
His body went rigid, every muscle tensing up.
Cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.
"What is this?" Robert finally spoke, his voice icy and emotionless. "Dad, please, let me explain. It's not what you think. This was just a company stunt for the project, all fake.
"Mr. Blake planned the whole thing."
He was at it again, throwing his boss under the bus just like always.
He rattled off his excuses so fast, as if speed alone could turn his lies into reality.
I sat on the sofa, watching his pathetic act, and couldn't help but find it almost funny.
Did he really think everyone else is as dumb as he is?'
"A publicity stunt?" Robert let out a cold, mocking laugh. "So you stood in front of the whole company and announced your assistant as your wife?
"And you left Julia, the Grant family's rightful daughter-in-law, all alone at home?"
With each question, Robert's voice rose, and his grip on the walnuts grew tighter. "Andrew. Do you think I'm old, blind, or just plain stupid?"
He slammed his hand on the desk, making the pen holder jump.
"Dad. I swear to God, nothing happened between me and Sophie. There's nothing going on between us," Andrew blurted out.