Chapter 4

Watching Chloe's face drop into an ugly scowl, I poked my head out from behind Lucas's broad shoulder and offered a pleasant grin.

"Nice to see you too, Chloe."

Chloe rolled her eyes in disgust, stomped her foot, and retreated to seat herself snugly between the older couple.

Lucas remained frozen near the doorway, not taking a single step forward. I nudged him curiously, just as his father, Arthur, finally spoke up, his tone cold and aloof:

"Since you brought someone, what are you doing lingering by the door? Sit down."

Only then did Lucas's rigid frame relax marginally. He took my hand and led me to the seats furthest away from his parents.

The meal proceeded in suffocating silence. Nobody exchanged a single pleasantry.

Just as I was mentally wondering if the plot had derailed, Chloe stood up with an elegant smile, raising her glass toward the two elders.

"Today is Lucas's birthday, but more importantly, it's the day Mom went through so much pain to bring him into this world. Mom, you worked so hard. Going forward, Lucas and I will take the best care of you and make sure you're happy every single day. Here's to your health and happiness!"

I sat there, utterly flabbergasted. Wow, this girl definitely rehearsed that speech in the mirror.

Meanwhile, Lucas—the literal birthday boy—just kept his head down, silently sipping his soup as if he hadn't heard a single syllable.

Eleanor, his mother, lifted her glass with practiced socialite poise, but her icy, venomous glare shot straight toward our side of the table.

"At least Chloe has manners. My son has been completely spoiled by us. He doesn't even know how to string two grateful sentences together on his own birthday."

Lucas kept drinking his soup. I kept my head down and joined him.

"Back then, I sacrificed everything to raise him with my own two hands. How much blood, sweat, and tears did I pour into him? And look at him now.”

“Now that his wings are grown, he thinks he's too good for his own mother. It takes ten phone calls just to drag him to a family dinner. Clearly, he doesn't consider me his mother anymore."

The two of us kept chugging our soup in stony silence, though I noticed Lucas's hand under the table clenching into a tight, white-knuckled fist.

"Lucas! Are you deaf?! Is this how I raised you?! Don't you know how much I love you? Is this how you repay me? Raising a dog would have been more loyal than raising you!"

Failing to get a reaction, Eleanor suddenly lost all composure, shrieking like a maniac. Arthur, who hadn't uttered a word, finally snapped, his tone laced with deep embarrassment and disgust:

"Enough! There's an outsider here. Look at yourself!"

Lucas's clenched fist slowly unraveled.

The next second, Eleanor shot up from her seat, violently sweeping all the dishes off the table. Porcelain shattered across the floor as she pointed an accusing finger at Lucas, screaming hysterically at her husband:

"Look at myself?! Arthur, aren't you the one who drove me crazy?! How dare you judge me?!"

"Look at him! In all the years he was growing up, did you ever fulfill a single duty as a father?! Do you even have the right to speak?!"

"I molded Lucas into the successful man he is today! I don't even have the right to discipline him?! Arthur, what the hell do you mean by that? Say something!"

Humiliated beyond belief by her public meltdown, Arthur grabbed his overcoat and headed straight for the exit, tossing back a parting shot without even glancing back:

"You molded him into a success? You drove the boy insane, that's what you did!"

A flash of realization hit me. So his father had known about the psychological abuse all along, yet he chose passive negligence over stepping in.

Passing by Lucas, Arthur let out a heavy sigh, but ultimately couldn't muster a single word of comfort.

Eleanor collapsed onto the carpet, wailing at the top of her lungs:

"What kind of family did I marry into?! Like father, like son! His father insults me right in front of him, and he just sits there like a mute! I raised an ungrateful monster!"

Chloe seemed entirely unfazed by the chaos, gracefully crouching down to comfort Eleanor. Patting her back, she cooed softly:

"Don't cry, Mom. You love Lucas so much, how could he not care about you?"

"You poured your whole life into shaping him. He was never this distant before. What could have gotten into him today?"

As she spoke, Chloe tilted her head, her gaze darting directly toward me with heavy insinuation.