At Javier Harris's side, the world was crumbling. After staying up for a day and a night, he had exhausted every resource to stabilize his company's plummeting stock price.
He dragged his weary body home, but the moment he stepped inside, he was met with the familiar, grating sounds of crying and arguing—sounds that filled him with an overwhelming sense of disgust.
"You are a terrible bastard! All day long, you care about nothing but that laboratory and Milena Solis. You never pay attention to me!"
Tiffany Harris was a wreck. Her hair was a matted mess, and her face was streaked with tears. Clutching a bottle of wine in one hand, she gripped the hem of Dylan's shirt with the other, refusing to let go. To the world, she was the noble and arrogant Lady Harris; behind closed doors, she was a resentful woman who spent her days drowning in wine and bitter accusations.
Dylan had heard it all too many times. It was the reason he buried himself in his lab and refused to come home, which only fueled Tiffany's mounting resentment. Ultimately, she blamed Javier for his father's indifference, as if it were the son's lack of talent that kept the father away.
Standing in the doorway, Javier froze, his feet refusing to move another inch into the house.
Dylan, reaching his breaking point as Tiffany pulled at him, finally snapped. He shoved her back into a chair and roared, "Have you had enough? Look in the mirror! All you do is complain. You might not mind living like this, but I do!"
The roar only shifted Tiffany's grief into pure venom. She lunged to her feet, pointing a finger at his chest. "What should I do? Look at yourself! You have neither talent nor virtue—that's why Milena chose Kevin. She wouldn't even spare you a glance!"
She had poked his oldest, most painful wound. In his youth, Dylan—the eldest master of the Harris family—had been infatuated with the brilliant Milena. When she rejected him for Kevin Solis, Dylan had resorted to the most despicable means to win her, only to have his plans ruined by Tiffany. The "accident" that followed resulted in Javier.
He didn't love Tiffany. He had only stayed for twenty-three years to give Javier a complete family, but for Tiffany, it was never enough. She constantly tore at his old scars, using Milena's name to ridicule his dignity.
Driven to a blind rage, Dylan's hand swung out. The loud crack of the slap echoed through the room. Tiffany was stunned into silence, but Javier, watching from the shadows, felt only a cold, gloomy darkness settle over him.
Milena again. For as long as he could remember, that name had been the catalyst for his family's misery. He hated the Solis family for existing; he hated the blood in his own veins that reminded him he was a part of this mess; and he hated that he had an uncle who was more talented and more powerful than he would ever be.
Seeing that Tiffany was too stunned to move, he didn't intervene. He watched as his parents descended into a physical brawl. After a few more blows, he saw his father slumped on the floor, blood dripping from his lip. Without a word, Javier turned and walked out.
He left the house in a silent rage.
On the highway, Javier's super-car tore through the night. The freezing December wind whipped through the open window, the chill sharp enough to tear skin, but it served only to clear his mind. His dark eyes were no longer tired—they were filled with a venomous sharpness.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a long number that wasn't saved in his contacts. Someone picked up almost immediately.
"The medicine I asked for," Javier said, his voice ice-cold. "Is it ready?"
"It's done," the voice on the other end responded. "It will be delivered to you in a few days."
Javier hung up and deleted the call log.
He arrived at his private apartment, hoping for a moment of peace. But the moment he sat on the sofa, Elena Lewis rushed out of the bedroom, throwing her arms around him and sobbing.
"Javier! You're finally here! I'm being bullied to death!"
Javier rubbed his temples, a sharp pain throbbing behind his eyes. He was too exhausted for another performance. He pushed her back slightly, his voice impatient. "What is it now?"
Elena wiped her eyes and rested her head on his chest. "Your youngest uncle... he cut all my remaining roles! He's banned me from every Stars Tomorrow project. He's cutting off all my resources!"
She had nearly finished Love is Tested, so the immediate loss wasn't the issue; it was the fact that Quentin Harris had effectively blacklisted her from half the entertainment industry.
The mention of Quentin Harris sent a surge of irritation through Javier. He shoved Elena away and stood up. "What kind of disaster did you cause to make him personally order a blackout?"
He knew his uncle. Quentin didn't waste his time on trivialities like actress contracts—unless someone had crossed a serious line.
"It was that bastard Amanda!" Elena screamed. "She pulled me into the lake! She tried to drown me!"
"Enough!" Javier roared. "She tried to drown you? Do you think Amanda is crazy, or do you think I'm stupid?"
He knew Amanda couldn't swim a stroke. The idea of her trying to drown someone in a lake was absurd. If anything, he suspected Elena was the one who had tried to pull a stunt.
"What do you mean by that?" Elena shouted back, her face contorting with anger.
Javier looked at her, and all he saw was a reflection of his mother, Tiffany—noisy, resentful, and suffocating. Without a word, he grabbed his keys and walked out, leaving her behind.
Elena stood bewildered in the middle of the room. Her sorrow turned into a frantic, destructive rage. she began screaming, throwing everything within reach—vases, lamps, electronics—smashing them against the floor.
"Amanda, you bastard! I'll kill you!"