Chapter 27 Not good enough
At Tristan's side of the villa.
"Hmm, those two look suspicious." Viola set down her wine glass with her eyes narrowed. "So he suddenly comes back married, just like that Tristan, and we're supposed to just accept it? and pretend like it's not suspicious"
Tristan laid on the leather sofa in their private wing, scrolling through his phone without looking up. "And what's there to be suspicious about mom? It's his life anyways."
Viola's head snapped toward him with a glare. "Are you being serious right now?"
"What?" He finally glanced up with irritation flickering across his face. "He got married. So what? It doesn't concern us."
"Doesn't concern us?" Viola's voice increased to an octave. "Tristan, do you ever use that brain of yours, or is it just for decoration?"
He sat up straighter, jaw tightening. "Mom don't start"
"This is exactly why you haven't been able to curry favor with your grandmother." Viola began pacing, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "You're always so unserious and nonchalant. You just let things happen around you without thinking about the consequences."
"I'm Chief operating officer of Graham Corp," Tristan shot back. "I think I'm doing fine."
"COO isn't the same thing as CEO." Viola spun to face him, with a cold expression like she was getting tired of reminding him severally of the same thing. "And as long as Alexander is in the picture, you'll never be anything more than second place."
"Mother--"
"Don't Mother me." She pointed at him as if she was pointing a weapon. "Can't you see what's happening? You're Grandma said she would hand over Graham Corp when Alexander was married. And now, he shows up with a wife?"
Tristan frowned as if he just realized his mother's point.
"You think he married her just to--"
"Of course he did!" Viola laughed bitterly. "He doesn't need Graham Corp. He has his own empire with ECO Oils, but he knows the title matters. He knows being CEO of Graham Corp gives him more legitimacy, power, connections." She leaned forward, her gaze burning into him. "And you're just sitting here, letting him take what should be yours."
Tristan's hands clenched into fists. "What am I supposed to do? Challenge him? He's already been named CEO. The decision is made."
"Then think outside the box" her voice turned sharper. "Find something. Anything. A scandal. A mistake. Proof that his marriage is fake. I don't care what it takes, Tristan. You need to step up your game."
"But mom I'm trying--"
"Trying isn't enough!" She slammed her hand on the table, making the wine bottle rattle. "Do you know how hard I've worked to get you to this position?, do you know how many board members I've bribed?, how many favors I've called in? And for what? So you can sit there and shrug while Alexander waltzes in and takes everything?"
Tristan stood abruptly, anger flashing in his eyes. "But I've been the one working at Graham Corp since I was twenty three! I've put in the hours, the effort, the years. What has Alex done? He left! He built his own company and ignored the family business for a decade!"
"And yet he's still the favorite one." Viola's voice turned cold. "Because he's Flora's son, and he's the firstborn. Because your grandma sees him as the rightful heir no matter what you do."
The words stung more than Tristan wanted to admit.
"If only you were wise enough," Viola continued, her tone dripping with disappointment, "you would've built your own business, and made your own empire just like him. Then we wouldn't have to fight over Graham Corp like dogs over scraps."
Tristan's jaw clenched. "Mom you're the one who insisted I work at Graham Corp in the first place. You said it was the only way to secure our future."
"And I was wrong." Viola's laughed bitterly. "Because I overestimated you."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Tristan stared at his mother, as if something broke inside him.
Overestimated. That's the word she used on her own son just because of a position that technically doesn't belong to him.
"Why do you always compare me to him?" His voice came out raw, almost breaking. "Why am I never good enough mom?"
Viola's expression softened slightly, but her rone remained sharp. "I'm not comparing you, Tristan. I'm trying to push you to be better. To be useful, to be someone who doesn't need his mother fighting his battles."
"I AM useful--"
"Are you?" She stepped closer, her gaze piercing. "Because from what I understand, you've let Alexander walk all over you your entire life. And now, when it matters most, you're doing it again."
"I'm not--"
"Yes you are." She turned away, heading toward the door. "And if you don't start thinking of ways to stop him from taking what's rightfully yours, then I'm done wasting my time with you."
She paused at the doorway, without looking back.
"You'd better decide soon, Tristan. Are you going to be CEO? Or are you going to spend the rest of your life in Alexander's shadow?"
Then she slammed the door shut.
Tristan stood alone in the quiet living room,with his mother's words echoing in his head.
Overestimated, Not useful, always second place. Those were the words she always used on him when she compares him to Alex, and even though it's not the first time it still hurts like hell.
His hands trembled with suppressed rage.
She'd been saying things like that his whole life, comparing him to Alexander. Pointing out every way he was lacking.
When they were kids, it was the grades, test scores and sports.
"Why can't you be more like Alexander huh?, See he got straight A's again. He won the debate competition."
And then When they were teenagers, it was ambition.
"Alexander is already planning his future, he's going to study abroad. and your here Playing video games?"
And now, as adults, it was power.
"Alexander built an empire a frickin oil company that even Greenville depends on. But you, what have you built? Nothing!."
He was used to it.
He'd heard it so many times that it should've stopped hurting.
But it never did.
Because no matter how hard he worked, no matter how many late nights he pulled at the office, no matter how much he sacrificed.
It was never enough.
He would never be Alexander.
And his mother would never stop reminding him of that.
\---
Tristan walked to the window, lost in thoughts.
Somewhere out in the estate, Alexander was probably with Dandelion.
The girl who'd appeared out of nowhere and somehow charmed Grandmother Winifred in a single evening.
So easily, he thought bitterly.
But there was something off about the whole situation.
The rushed courthouse wedding. The lack of engagement period. The way Alexander had introduced her like she was just another business acquisition.
They're definitely hiding something.
And if he could figure out what...
Maybe just maybe he could finally prove to his mother that he wasn't useless.
That he could also be strategic, ruthless and more worthy.
He stood there quietly, feeling the weight of his mother's expectations pressing down on him like a physical force.
"I'll prove to you that I'm not useless" he muttered, his reflection staring back at him in the window glass.
Even if it means destroying Alexander to do it.
Because the truth was, he'd spent his entire life hating his stepbrother.
Not because Alexander had done anything to him personally.
But because Alexander existed.
And as long as he exists, Tristan would never be enough.