Chapter 88: Hampton legacy

Kieran’s POV

The front door of the Hampton estate slammed shut. The sound echoed through the high ceiling of the foyer.

The ride from the hospital had been completely silent. My leg was frozen in the massive plaster cast. Every small bump on the road sent sharp pain through my broken ankle and cracked ribs. My father got out of the car first. He threw my metal crutches onto the gravel. My mother helped me balance my weight on them.

Now, we stood on the lobby. My mother did not even take off her winter coat. She turned around instantly and looked straight at my father.

“I am applying for a divorce,” my mother said.

My father stopped dead in his tracks. He was adjusting his suit jacket, but his hands froze.

He slowly looked up. Then, that classic, arrogant smirk cut across his face. He let out a cold laugh.

“A divorce?” my father scoffed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “And what exactly is the reason for this drama, Amelia? Because I scolded my son for not playing well? Because I demanded excellence from a boy who threw his season away for an assist?”

“Do not look at him, Richard,” my mother said. Her voice turned cold.

“I will look wherever I want in my own house!” my father roared. He took a fast step toward her. His face turned a dark red. “You wouldn't last a single week outside of this estate. You have no money. You have no career. You are a housewife. With what funds do you think you can divorce a man like me? You are overreacting to a family argument.”

My mother did not step back. As my father got right into her face, my mother raised her right hand. With a fast motion, she swung her arm and slapped him directly across the face.

The sharp crack of the slap cut through his shouting.

The force of the hit moved his head to the side. My father froze completely. His jaw dropped. His eyes went wide with absolute shock.

He slowly put his palm up to his reddening cheek, staring at his wife in complete disbelief. I stood there on my crutches. My fingers trembled against the metal grips. I had never seen my mother raise her voice, let alone strike him.

“Because I know you are cheating,” my mother said.

My father’s face instantly went from red to a pale white. The smirk completely vanished from his lips. He tried to clear his throat.

He looked toward me for a second before snapping his gaze back to her.

“Amelia, that is completely absurd,” my father stammered. His voice lost its booming authority. “You are making things up because you are angry about the hospital. The affairs... those are just rumors. You have absolutely no proof of anything.”

“I have the bank statements, Richard,” my mother said, cutting him off instantly. “I have the investigator reports from the hotels. I have names, dates, and locations. Do not dare lie to me in front of our son.”

She turned her head slightly, looking at me with deep regret in her eyes.

“Kieran told me about the affairs months ago,” she confessed. Her voice cracked for just a second. “He came to me and told me what you were doing behind my back. But I did not take it serious at first. I chose to ignore him.

I thought staying quiet was keeping the peace. I thought keeping this family together was the only way to protect Kieran and give him a safe future. I endured your toxic control and your constant abuse because I wanted my son to have his path.”

She looked back at my father. Her expression turned into iron.

“But I was wrong,” she continued, stepping even closer to him. “I was just letting you poison this family. Yesterday, I watched you stand over his hospital bed and call him a useless rookie while his bones were broken on that ice. You do not care about this family, Richard. You only care about your precious Hampton brand. You are a selfish man, and you will never change.”

My father’s breathing became heavy. He looked at his hands, trying to find his confidence, but he was completely trapped. He tried to point a finger back at her. His voice shook with desperate anger.

“You think you can just walk away with my wealth?” my father hissed. His teeth clenched tight. “I built this entire empire! I own the corporate accounts! I own the cars, the sponsorships, and every single brick of this estate! If you file those papers, I will hire the most ruthless legal team to ensure you leave this house with absolutely nothing!”

My mother let out a short, bitter laugh that cut right through his threats.

“Your wealth, Richard?” she asked. Her tone was flat. “You seem to have a very short memory. You did not build this empire from nothing. You built your entire corporate path using what my father left for me when he passed away. You took my family inheritance, you took my father’s company, and you put your own name on the front door.”

My father’s jaw tightened. His eyes widened with pure panic.

“I am taking back what my father left for me,” my mother delivered the final blow. Her voice was cold and absolute. “I am taking back the company, and I am demanding half of your assets in this divorce. You should continue to be who you are, Richard. Continue to be the powerful billionaire who tries to control everyone around him. But you are going to do it completely alone.”

My father stood in the center of the foyer, completely paralyzed. The power he had used to terrorize our household for decades had just been destroyed in less than five minutes. He looked small. He looked utterly defeated.

My mother turned her back on him completely. She walked over to my side and gently placed her arm around my waist to help me balance my weight on the crutches.

“Let’s go upstairs, Kieran,” she said softly. Her voice returned to that gentle tone I had known my entire life. “You need to rest your leg.”

We slowly moved toward the grand staircase. The heavy thud of my crutches against the steps was the only sound left in the house. I did not look back at my father. He did not try to stop us. He didn't say a single word. He was just a ghost standing in his own lobby.

When we reached the top of the stairs, my mother helped me navigate the hallway toward my bedroom. She opened the door, waiting patiently as I swung myself inside and settled onto the edge of the bed.

She walked over and gently lifted my heavy plaster cast. She placed a soft pillow underneath my ankle to keep it elevated. She reached down and gave me a firm kiss right on my forehead.

“Get some sleep, sweetie,” she whispered. She offered me a small smile. “Everything is going to be okay now. I promise.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I rasped. My throat was completely dry.

She turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

I lay there in the quiet room for a few hours. I watched my bedroom ceiling.

The physical pain in my ribs was nothing compared to the absolute shock buzzing inside my brain. My mother had actually found her voice, and she had completely destroyed the tyrant who controlled our lives.

But as the afternoon started to fade into dusk, the house became too quiet. It felt hollow.

I carefully reached for my metal crutches. I balanced my weight on my right leg as I swung myself out of bed. Moving down the quiet hallway was painful.

Every step made my ribs ache, but I needed to check on her. I wanted to make sure she was okay after the massive explosion .

I reached the door of my mother’s bedroom at the very end of the hall. The door was not fully shut. It was cracked open just a few inches.

I went to knock, but the sound of a soft sob stopped my hand completely.

I leaned closer, peering through the small gap in the door frame. The fierce woman who had just brought a billionaire patriarch to his knees in the lobby was completely gone.

Instead, my mother was sitting all alone on the very edge of her mattress. Her shoulders were hunched forward. Her head was bowed down as she cried silently. Her entire body shook with a deep grief. In her trembling hands, she was tightly holding an old family picture from back when I was just a child. We actually smiled in that photo. It was taken before my father's dead hockey career.

She was mourning the loss of the family she had spent years trying to protect.

I stood there my heart broke for her. I knew there was no turning back.

The Hampton family prefect legacy was officially dead.