Chapter 25: Chapter Twenty Four

Eros

After the disastrous dinner, I returned home and decided to go for a walk on the grounds to clear my head. I wandered deeper into the woods until I reached the cliff’s edge, overlooking Luminis Bay. The hooting of owls and the chirping of crickets were the only sounds that broke the silence, signaling it was time to head back home.

I pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside, wiping my shoes on the welcome mat. The air carried the familiar scent of polished wood and fresh lilies, thanks to the maids who tended to the estate. 

Shrugging off my coat, I hung it neatly in the closet by the entrance just as I heard the soft, hurried footsteps of Sue, one of the maids, approaching.

“Good evening, sir,” she said, her voice light yet formal, clutching a small stack of freshly folded towels in her arms. “Your father asked to see you in his office.”

I glanced at her, my expression indifferent, with only the faintest trace of acknowledgment. “Did he say what it was about?” I asked.

Sue hesitated, shifting on her feet. “No, sir. Only that he would like to see you as soon as possible.” She lowered her gaze slightly. “Shall I announce you?”

“No need. I think he’s been waiting long enough,” I replied, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. “Thank you, Sue.”

She nodded respectfully before moving down the corridor, disappearing into the shadows. I remained still for a moment, staring at the dimly lit hallways of Villa Isadora. This wasn’t a surprise—my father’s summons were always calculated, usually reserved for when there was something specific to discuss or, more often, to demand.

I already knew what this one was about. Vivienne had reported me to him, no doubt embellishing her tale with fake tears to make the situation even more dramatic. And, true to form, my father—ever the fool—had fallen for her theatrics.

I had been so irritated by the dinner that I hadn’t bothered to shower or change before going for my walk. But it was for the best. Dad and I would inevitably have a screaming match, and after I walked out, just like always, I would finally take that much-needed shower.

To avoid dwelling on our argument and tossing and turning all night, I would put on a horror movie or watch a soccer match. One of those usually helped me fall asleep, if only for a few hours.

I hated waking up with migraines. It was the only thing that disrupted my otherwise perfect health.

I made my way toward the east wing, the soft click of my shoes echoing against the marble floor. The closer I got to my father’s office, the more oppressive the air seemed to become. 

The room was one of power, where my father had held countless meetings, struck deals, and, at times, delivered reprimands that lingered far beyond the moment they were spoken.

Stopping in front of the heavy oak door, I raised my hand and knocked twice. A deep voice came from within. “Come in.”

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My father, Leonardo, sat behind his imposing desk, framed by towering bookshelves. The desk was spotless, as always, save for a glass of brandy and a solitary folder resting on its surface. His dark brown hair gleamed in the warm light of the desk lamp, and his piercing gaze met mine the moment I entered.

“You wanted to see me,” I said, my tone steady as I casually slipped my hands into my pockets.

He gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I obeyed, lowering myself into the leather armchair, relaxed in posture but alert in my gaze. I noticed the faint tension in my father’s jaw and the way his fingers drummed lightly against the desk.

“You’ve been walking the grounds again,” Dad began, his voice deep and measured. It wasn’t a question.

“I needed fresh air,” I replied nonchalantly. “Something you might benefit from yourself.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed, but he chose not to respond to the jab. “I didn’t call you here to discuss my habits. There’s something I want to address,” he said.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other. “By all means,” I replied, giving him my full attention. “What’s this about?”

Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the smooth mahogany desk and steepling his fingers. He stared at me without saying a word. I met his gaze, refusing to blink.

If this was a battle to see who would break first, I wasn’t about to lose. His fingers stopped drumming, and after a moment, he was the first to look away. I couldn’t help but smile.

"Did you bring me in here just to stare at my face all night, or are you actually going to say something?" I asked him.

"Vivienne called me," he began slowly, his voice low and controlled. "She said she tried being friendly, but you were hostile. You called her names. Is that true?"

"What do you think?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't have time for your mind games, Avian," Dad snapped.

"Oh, no," I said, pretending to be scared. "Leonardo Ciaran Belmonte used my middle name. I'm terrified."

"Eros!" Dad slammed his fist on the table.

"Come on, Dad. You wouldn't believe me if I told you what really happened. And honestly, I don't want to revisit it because it was a disaster," I said. "I wasted an entire hour having dinner with her when I could have been more productive, like playing Call of Duty."

"I won't let you speak about her like that. She's going to be your stepmother," he said firmly.

"For heaven's sake, Dad, open your eyes!" I shouted. "I was trying to help you!"

"Help me?" he repeated, scoffing. "More like you were looking out for yourself. I won’t tolerate your behavior toward Vivienne. Show her some respect."

"It’s not like you’d recognize love if it slapped you across the face, Dad," I sneered. "Mom loved you for years, but you took it for granted."

"Don't bring her into this," Dad warned.

"Or what?" I shot back. "What are you going to do about it? I get it," I said, raising my hands in mock peace. "If you think marrying Vivienne Briers is what you deserve, then fine. Go ahead and marry her."

Dad stared at me, stunned by my response. "Really?" he asked, disbelief lacing his voice. "You're not going to keep fighting this?"

I stood up and shrugged off my jacket. "Absolutely not. You’re free to marry her. It's your life, after all," I replied with a nonchalant shrug.

After all, it wasn’t my life he was about to ruin—it was his. If he felt that strongly about Vivienne, I wasn’t going to stand in his way any longer.

"I... I didn’t expect you to give in so easily," he said, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. "Why do I feel like there’s something worse coming?"

"You're smart," I said with a dry laugh. "And yes, there’s something worse. It’s not an ultimatum, but... if you marry her, consider me dead to you."

"What?" Dad gasped, his expression one of shock.

"You heard me," I said, my voice cold as stone. "You marry Vivienne and bring her into this house—Mom's house—and I'm done. I’ll leave and never come back."

"Eros..."

"So, I want you to choose carefully: me or Vivienne. Give me your answer in two days," I told him, then without another word, stormed out of his office.

He could claim I wasn't being fair to him, but he’d never been fair to us either, so it was only right I let him get a taste of his own medicine. After he told me about his impending marriage to Vivienne, I had her thoroughly investigated—down to her medical records. I discovered that she'd been pregnant in high school, lost the baby, and later had a hysterectomy to prevent further pregnancies.

If I walked away from my father, severed all ties with him because he refused to heed my advice and married Vivienne anyway, he wouldn’t be a father anymore. There’d be no child to carry on his legacy, and hell would freeze over before I’d accept that kind of responsibility.

Vivienne Briers was a few million euros shy of becoming a billionaire, which was why she was so determined to marry my father. If she succeeded, she’d be set for life. I wasn’t about to let my mother’s hard-earned money fall into her greedy hands.

My mother had been an only child, so when her parents passed away, they bequeathed all their wealth to her. In return, she merged her father's company, Montgomery Oil and Gas, with a subsidiary of Belmonte Group—Redstone Oil and Gas. The merger caused Belmonte Group’s stock to soar.

After my mom passed, her shares in both companies were transferred to me, making me one of the major shareholders in Belmonte Group.

Did my father really expect me to give all that up? He was out of his mind.

I hoped, for both my sake and my father's, that he would do the right thing. Because if he didn’t, there’d be no coming back from this.