Chapter 153 Grieving the person

Chapter 153 Grieving the person
Knox,

That night,

I stared at my bandaged hand, brushing the rough fabric with light, absent pressure, as if the sensation could ground me. The dull ache beneath the bandage pulsed steadily, not sharp enough to demand attention, yet impossible to ignore. Lying on the unfamiliar bed, staring up at the plain ceiling of a room that held no memories for me, I couldn’t stop replaying her words. They came back in fragments, overlapping, echoing, each one landing heavier than the last.

Violet was an undeniably intelligent woman. That truth pressed against my chest no matter how much I tried to deny it. She knew me like an open book, every page worn from overuse, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I had no plans for settling down. Never did.

The only mission I had ever clearly understood was to rise, to dominate, to become the leader of the gang. Power, control, fear. Those were the things that made sense. And I had been happy with that life. Content, even.

But…

It didn’t feel right anymore. This room felt colder, despite the air conditioner humming steadily in the background. The silence here was sharp, biting. The familiar scent of jasmine and lavender wasn’t present, and the absence made my chest tighten unexpectedly.

That scent had clung to everything in her room. It had wrapped around me without asking permission. Now, all I smelled was antiseptic and unfamiliar fabric.

“Knock, knock, mafia guy!” Mark’s mocking voice broke through my thoughts as he knocked twice on the door, not bothering to wait.

“It’s open,” I replied, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table. My throat felt dry, like I had been swallowing dust.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him with a quiet click. His eyes moved slowly around the room, scanning every corner, every piece of furniture, as if expecting to find something hidden. Or maybe expecting to find nothing at all.

“Got demoted, huh?” he said lightly. “From the billionaire’s husband to a friend.”

“What are you trying to say?” I hissed coldly, my grip tightening around the glass.

“I told you before, Boss.” He dragged a chair closer and sat down, leaning back casually. “Violet Riverwood isn’t a stupid woman. She turned herself into someone indispensable by connecting herself to security systems all over the world, just to find one stupid man.”

“That’s enough, Mark,” I snapped. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Oh, you won’t,” he replied easily. “Because she isn’t stupid enough to keep herself tangled up with someone who can’t keep his pants zipped for one woman.”

“You know that’s not what this is,” I snarled, anger flaring hot and fast. Why was he twisting my intentions?

“I do,” he said, surprisingly calm. “And that’s why I’m disappointed. I’ve kept myself quiet all this time back then. Not because I wanted to hide the truth.”

He finally looked directly at me then, his gaze steady, unblinking.

“It’s because I don’t recognize you either.”

My breath caught. My eyes widened before I could stop myself. He didn't recognize me? He said he was my best friend but he didn't recognize me?

“I lost my best friend the day you woke up,” he continued, his voice low but firm. “The day you started looking at the world like a bloodthirsty hyena, walking around with blood. When you walked into rooms full of women just because it amused you. When you killed criminals like their lives meant nothing.” His jaw tightened. “God knows how many times I threw up afterward.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers flexing unconsciously. " So you never liked the profession? Then why did you come with me? Fulfill all the orders and commands without any questions? You should have at least told me!" I demanded an answer.

But he chose to ignore me

“So when I finally saw her,” he went on, “in that bar, with you pointing a sniper at her, I felt relieved.” He let out a breath, almost a laugh. “I thought I was finally going to be free from that hell.”

I had never imagined he saw me that way. The realization sat heavy, uncomfortable. I really thought he enjoyed every single thing. He was there by my side.

“I thought,” he said quietly, “that I would finally get my best friend back.”

He smiled at me then, not mocking, not cruel. Just tired.

“I’ll admit it. I was selfish. I think Violet feels the same way. You’re the same person on paper. Same DNA. Same face. Same body. But your personality is different now.” He shook his head slightly. “We shouldn’t have forced you to become someone you’re not.”

He stood up slowly and walked closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. The weight of it felt grounding.

“In our own way,” he said softly, “we all grieved the loss of the man we loved. And now… now we love you.” He corrected himself with a small smile. “No. We already love you the way you are. So stop burdening yourself with expectations that don’t belong to you.”

He turned toward the door, his hand resting on the handle.

“Just be kind to the child,” he added. “Even if you don’t want to be tied down, at least let him have a father he can rely on.”

“Stop,” I said sharply, pushing myself upright. “You know I’d never neglect my son. That’s out of the question.” I felt a pang of sadness. As if I was losing my family one by one but I had no ground to grip onto.

“I know,” he replied without turning around. “Just reminding you.”

He paused for a moment.

“We both know that with alcohol and women, you forget responsibility until someone reminds you,” he said evenly. “But we’re all adults now. We all have our own lives. It’s time for you to take responsibility without my help.”

The door closed softly behind him, leaving the room unbearably quiet. Now the desire to have all the memories back become more stronger. The thought of watching them pulling away from me made me feel petrified.

I leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling again, my chest tight, my mind louder than the silence around me.

I didn't know what to do. I felt lost once again. I rose on my feet, and decided to face Violet once again. It felt crucial to lay all the confusion and doubt out. I wanted to know everything about my past before whatever commitments I took.

I walked upstairs. My heart was pounding at this point. I had no idea how I would face her after everything she had done for me.

Taking a deep and sharp breath, I stood before the door and pushed it lightly. But I froze when I heard Cyrus crying,

" Mamma. Papa? No Papa?" Cyrus was crying while Violet was changing his diaper.

"Yes, No Papa tonight. So quiet down, Sweetheart!" She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy.

A sharp ache echoed in my chest. Did she cry? Did I make her cry?

Cyrus looked reluctant as he kept throwing kicks in the air while she tried to push the diaper on. Tears slipped, saliva rolled towards his ears as he cried, "Papa... Mamma Papa!"

Guilty washed over me. I pushed the door open. Both of them looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. The moment Cyrus realized who I was. His crying stopped, replaced by a coo,

" Papa. Papa!" He yanked Violet's hand and crawled towards me, saliva falling everywhere. " Papa. Sleep?"

His eyes were glinting with expectation that I couldn't ignore. " Yes. We will sleep!"

Violet's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything. She chose the quietness and distance.