Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 48: Parasites

Chapter 48: Parasites

I step down from the carriage, boots hitting the gravel road that leads to my castle—Seraphina’s Heart. This place... it represents everything I fought for. I left the Robbens estate as a teenager, abandoned the place where I was barely acknowledged. The battlefield became my home, and with every ounce of blood, every drop of sweat, every risk I took, I earned enough to buy this castle—half of my fortune gone, but it was worth it.

And now those greedy bastards are nesting inside my walls, making themselves comfortable in what’s mine.

I pause, taking in the sight of Seraphina’s Heart. The grand, imposing castle looms ahead, a symbol of devotion. A hundred years ago, a foreign merchant had built it for the king’s younger sister as a token of his undying love. He was a mere commoner, but his affection for the princess led him to create one of the most beautiful estates in the capital. Aside from the royal grounds, it’s the largest homestead in the city, standing tall near a pristine lake, surrounded by magnificent gardens.

I’m furious. I feel the anger simmering beneath my skin as I start towards the entrance. The servants are lined up in front of me, all unfamiliar faces. Where are my people? The ones who have served me loyally for years? The first thing I’ll do is remove this lot and bring back my own. I’ll see to that personally. They bow, their fear palpable, and it fills me with nothing but contempt.

Pathetic.

They’ve probably heard the rumors—the Crimson General has returned. Good. Let them cower.

I don’t stop until I’m inside, and the anger only grows stronger when I see no one waiting for me. Not a single soul from the Robbens family has bothered to greet me. They’ve forgotten who I am.

That’s a mistake they won’t make again.

I head straight to the drawing room and settle into one of the chairs. It’s as though my presence weighs heavy in the air, pressing down on the entire room. And then, him. The butler. I recognize him. He was the Robbens family’s lackey back when I was just a boy, ignored and tossed aside. It’s revolting to see him here, in my castle.

He shuffles forward, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks, "The masters are... in the upstairs drawing room."

I grip the cane, tapping it on the floor deliberately, my eyes narrowing. "Tell your masters to get down here right now," I say, each word slow and measured. "Because if I have to come up there myself, it won’t be nice for them. Trust me on this."

I want them trembling by the time they stand before me.

The butler scurries off, his back hunched as though he’s trying to disappear before I call him back. It’s a pitiful sight, watching him flee, but I remain seated, tapping my cane on the floor with a rhythmic thud. Minutes tick by slowly, each one tightening the grip of my temper. And then, they arrive.

My so-called family.

First, my father—Duke Robben, looking older, weaker than the last time I saw him, though his arrogance hasn’t diminished in the slightest. Following closely behind is my half-brother Sevian, who has that same weasel-like expression I’ve come to loathe. My stepmother, still playing the role of the elegant lady, flutters in behind them, with my two younger half-sisters in tow. They all file in, clearly hesitant, unsure of what to expect.

The butler hastily backs out of the room, leaving us alone. I can feel the tension thickening as they arrange themselves, stiff and awkward, in front of me. I stay seated, watching them with cold amusement.

"Thorne, welcome—" the old man begins, his voice smooth, as though nothing between us has ever been wrong.

"Cut the bullshit," I snap, my voice cutting through his like a blade. He flinches—good. He should. He knows better than to try those meaningless pleasantries with me. Not after everything.

He coughs awkwardly, attempting to regain composure, but I don’t let up. "You’ve been making yourselves real comfortable in my castle." I lean forward slightly, eyes narrowing. "Care to explain why?"

The silence that follows is almost comical. My stepmother glances nervously at my father, who stammers as if trying to find a suitable excuse. Sevian looks like he’s about to choke on his own words. They’re all scrambling, desperate to find some justification, but none of them dare speak.

"I gave you this estate to manage, not to claim as your own," I say, letting my voice drop into something low and dangerous. "Did you really think I’d never return?"

"It was... temporary," my father finally manages, wiping the sweat from his brow. "We, we were only overseeing it in your absence, son."

"Son?" I bark out a laugh, sharp and cruel. "Now I’m your son, am I? Convenient how that changes when you think you need something from me."

Sevian, always the coward, tries to interject. "You’ve been gone for years, Thorne. How were we supposed to know when—"

"How you were supposed to know? You weren’t. You were supposed to stay the hell out of what’s mine." I rise from my chair slowly, the cane making a sharp sound against the floor. I take a step toward them, and Sevian instinctively shrinks back.

"Did you enjoy playing lord of the manor while I was gone, brother?" I ask, my tone mocking. "Did you pretend this was all yours? Pretend you were someone important?"

Sevian’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He knows better than to argue.

"You’ve been enjoying my wealth, my power. But I’m back now, and I assure you, there’s no more playing pretend. You’ve overstayed your welcome."

The tension in the room is suffocating, the weight of my words sinking into each of them like stones. No one dares speak now, too afraid of what might happen next.

"I’m sorry," I say slowly, each word dripping with venom, "did you forget? Twelve years ago, I walked out of the Robbens manor. I’m Thorne Alden, son of the whore you spent a night with. I bear her name. You’ve reminded me, over and over again, that I’m Alden, not Robben."

I pause, letting the tension build. Their eyes dart away from mine, avoiding me, avoiding the truth. Cowards, the lot of them.

"This castle," I continue, voice cold as steel, "is mine. Bought with my money, earned through my own blood and sweat on the battlefield. Not a single coin came from you." I let that sink in, watching their faces pale. They’re still, like statues, afraid to breathe in my presence.

My patience is running thin, so I lay down my terms. "I want you and your servants gone. That is the only courtesy I will show you." I lean back in my chair, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. It takes every bit of strength not to show it, not to let them see the toll these last years have taken. But they still don’t move. They stay there, frozen, unwilling to acknowledge the reality before them.

"What is it?" I snap, my voice sharp enough to cut through the thick silence.

My half-brother, Sevian, is the one to speak. "Well, a couple of years ago, due to a failed business venture... we lost the manor." His smugness grates on me as he adds, "The prince permitted us to stay here, since you were missing."

I see. They’ve been scheming with the Crown Prince, of course. My absence was all the excuse they needed to crawl into this castle like parasites.

Very well, then.

I tap my fingers on the head of my cane, the sound echoing in the room as I mull over my next move. "So you thought I was dead," I say quietly, "and decided to make yourselves comfortable in my home. Fired my servants. All under the assumption that I wasn’t coming back."

The smugness fades from Sevian’s face. Good.

"This agreement with the Crown Prince," I continue, my voice rising, "was made on the pretext of my absence. Since I’m here now, that agreement is void. But," I pause, letting the weight of my next words settle on their shoulders, "since you are the Crown Prince’s guests, I won’t throw you out. However, this is my house. And you will behave as guests from now on."

Right on cue, Roman steps into the room, his presence commanding. "They’re all here," he says, referring to my servants. "And they’ll begin cleaning immediately."

I give him a nod, satisfied. "Proceed."