~Narrator’s~

“You are no longer my son.”

The words don’t shake the air—they slice through it.

The boardroom freezes. Silence. Chairs unmoving. Even the ceiling lights seem to dim because of what’s just been said.

She's back in town.

Mrs. Cuss is standing at the head of the polished table like she owns oxygen. Suited in charcoal silk and dripping with old-money audacity, she lifts a folder in her hand like a sword. “This was drawn up over a decade ago,” she says. “A contingency, should Reo ever… tarnish the legacy.”

Reo stands. He doesn't flinch. He doesn’t scoff or roll his eyes like the old him might have. He...