Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 110: He Is Not My Son: He Is A Monster!

Chapter 110: He Is Not My Son: He Is A Monster!

Evander’s POV

"Dad! You never talked about your family before, but I never thought you could be so cruel to your own son, especially when you have given us so much warmth and love!" The young boy stepped forward, his voice shaking with anger as he spoke in my defense.

I froze. I didn’t expect him to stand up for me, especially not so boldly. It was shocking, to say the least, and for a moment, I couldn’t decide how to react.

"It’s a matter between adults! Kids should stay out of it!" My father barked, his tone sharp as he tried to shut his son down.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Kids, huh? That’s rich coming from you," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. "He is over eighteen and still gets the privilege of being called a kid while I... I was never a kid in your eyes. I was treated worse than the servants in our mansion, barely even humans in your world. But why should that matter now? It’s not like you ever cared!"

The words spilled out of me before I could hold them back, years of pent-up frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. I sighed deeply, trying to maintain my composure, but the tears I had been holding in started to blur my vision. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop them.

I quickly wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay steady. "Do you remember what you said back then?" My voice cracked slightly as I continued. "’A child born from a woman like Gloria can only be a monster.’ That’s what you called me— a monster. You didn’t want to see me, didn’t want to hear about me. You told everyone I wasn’t your son. And now you sit here like none of it ever happened."

The room fell into a suffocating silence. My words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable. My father’s face hardened, but his eyes flickered with something—guilt, perhaps, though it was buried under layers of stubbornness.

"I was just a kid back then," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "A kid who needed his father. But you left me to face the wolves alone. And now, after all these years, you expect me to stand here and act like it didn’t destroy me?"

The young boy’s gaze darted between us, sympathy and sadness evident in his expression. He didn’t know our history, but his small gesture of support had touched me more than I could admit.

"I don’t need your excuses or your pity," I said finally, straightening my shoulders. "I just need what’s mine so I can protect the only family I have left." I repeated once more.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as though my words were a physical weight pressing down on him. "It’s not as simple as you think, Evander," he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself rather than me.

"It is that simple," I countered, my voice firm. "You just don’t want to make the hard choice. You are clinging to a marriage that has been dead for years because it’s easier than facing the fallout."

You just want to keep her trapped in the torment. But let me tell you something—you are not the one paying the price for that choice. I am. Eliam is. My wife had! And I won’t stand by and let her ruin them even further."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. Instead, he looked away, his expression seemed conflicted.

"I will ask you one last time," I said, leaning forward, my tone cold. "Will you give me what I need to stop her, or will you keep hiding behind your so-called reasons while she destroys everything?"

The tension in the room was suffocating as he remained silent, and for the first time, I saw something flicker clearly in his eyes—doubt, maybe even guilt. But it wasn’t enough to sway me.

"I don’t have time for your indecision," I said, standing up. "If you can’t make the right choice, then don’t expect me to clean up the mess she leaves behind."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and left, leaving him to sit in the silence he seemed so comfortable with.

Back to the Present

I was still lost in my thoughts, replaying the harsh words and strained moments with my father, when a soft knock on the door pulled me back to reality.

"Come in," I called, though my voice lacked its usual firmness.

The door opened, and Claire stepped in, holding the landline phone in her hand. She looked hesitant, her fingers clutching the phone tightly. She seemed nervous.

"Did I disturb you?" she asked softly, her eyes searching my face. Without waiting for a response, she took a seat across from me, her movements deliberate but cautious.

"No," I said, straightening in my chair. "Please, go ahead and tell me."

My tone betrayed my eagerness. I needed to know her decision. Her presence here had been an unexpected relief, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. The thought of her leaving again filled me with a desperation I didn’t want to acknowledge.

"I have decided to stay here for the time being," she began, her tone firm yet laced with uncertainty. Relief surged through me, but before I could fully process it, she continued as her gaze was unwavering.

"However," she added, her voice taking on a determined edge, "I can’t leave Sissy behind in this unknown country. She needs to be with me—for her safety."

Her words were resolute, leaving no room for argument. I admired her courage and her ability to stand her ground despite everything she had endured.

I leaned back, nodding slowly. "That makes sense," I said, meeting her eyes. "You both deserve to feel safe and if bringing Sissy here ensures that, I will make the arrangements."

She blinked as if surprised by my quick agreement. "Thank you," she murmured, her tone softening.

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