Chapter 33

Maxwell's eyes lit up with warmth as he reminisced, "My mum, she's the one who taught me how to make good meals. She loves cooking for dad, and was always intentional about putting love into every dish." Electra's lips curled into a gentle smile, intrigued by the affectionate tone.

"That must have been a real challenge growing up in a family with two wives," Electra asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Maxwell's expression remained calm, unfazed by the probing question.

"Not at all," he replied. "His first wife passed away when I was just three years old, and it was only after a year of grieving that my dad married my mother. Plus, Knoxville, my half-brother, lived most of his life abroad, so we didn't really overlap much." Electra's eyebrows arched slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest.

"Oh, I see," Electra said, her smile deepening. She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.

Electra let out a contemplative sigh, her voice laced with concern. "He must have caused so much pain ever since he got back." Her eyes drifted off, as if lost in thought, imagining the ripples of hurt he had left in his wake.

Maxwell's expression turned somber, his brow furrowed in agreement. "He has so many bad characteristics, but I think we should focus on something else instead. Honestly, I don't want to dwell on it much." His tone conveyed a sense of weariness, as if the mere thought of the person was exhausting.

Electra nodded in understanding, her empathetic nature evident on her face. "Yeah, sometimes it's better to let go of the negativity." She paused, shifting her gaze to Maxwell. "So, what should we talk about?" Her voice lightened, inviting a change in conversation, a chance to steer their discussion toward more uplifting topics.

"Let's talk about us" Maxwell said.

****

Knoxville stormed into his house, his anger palpable, like a dark cloud hovering over him. The image of Maxwell with Electra seared into his mind, fueling his rage. "How dare he steal her away from me," he seethed, "just like my mother stole my father away from hers." The painful memory resurfaced, and he was instantly transported back to that fateful night.

He had been just a child, hiding behind the stairs, listening in on the hushed but heated conversation between his parents. His mother's words still echoed in his mind:

"How could you do this to me? How could you be so cruel?" Tiana's voice trembled with anguish.

Richardo's calm demeanor only seemed to infuriate her further. "What do you mean, Tiana?"

Tiana's voice echoed through the lavish living room, each word dripping with venom and heartbreak. "Stop feigning innocence! You've been claiming to be busy, but I know the truth. You've been having an affair. You stooped so low and had an affair with your secretary." Her eyes blazed with fury and betrayal.

Mr. Richardo's face crumbled, his eyes cast downward in shame. "I wasn't in my right mind, Tiana. I made a terrible mistake."

But Tiana's anger wouldn't be tempered. "You had a child with her, didn't you? She's been carrying your secret for two years, and I was oblivious. Blindly trusting you, loving you, and you repaid me with deception." Her voice cracked as she spoke.

Tiana's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor, overcome with grief. "He didn't even try to deny it. After all these years together, he cheated on me and betrayed me." Tears streamed down her face as she wept.

Mr. Richardo dropped to his knees beside her, pleading. "Tiana, I'm sorry. I can explain. It was a moment of weakness. I swear, I love only you." But his words fell flat.

Unseen by the distraught couple, their young son, Knoxville, had been watching the explosive scene unfold from his hiding spot. Horrified by what he witnessed, he silently slipped away, carrying the weight of his parents' shattered relationship.

End of flashback.

Knoxville's hands trembled as he raised the cup of water to his lips, the cool liquid doing little to calm the storm brewing inside him. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room, the shadows cast by the flickering lamp dancing on the walls like restless spirits. The silence was oppressive, heavy with unspoken fears.

Just as Knoxville was starting to lose himself in his thoughts, Henry walked into the room, his footsteps echoing through the tense atmosphere. "Are you going to be like this through the night, boss?" Henry asked, his voice laced with concern.

Knoxville's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "I told you to leave already!" he thundered, slamming the cup down on the nearby table. "What are you still doing here?" The water sloshed over the rim, mirroring the turmoil within him.

Henry stood firm, his expression unwavering. "You know I can't leave you in a situation like this," he said, his voice steady. "If anything were to happen to you, your dad would hold me accountable. I promised him I'd keep an eye on you."

Knoxville's face twisted in a scowl. "I need some time alone," he growled, his voice rising. "Get out!" The command hung in the air like a challenge, but Henry didn't budge.

The silence between them grew thicker, heavier, until Knoxville's chest heaved with suppressed emotion. His eyes locked onto Henry's, pleading and warning him to leave, to give him space to unravel the tangled threads of his thoughts. But Henry's resolve remained unshaken, his presence a steadfast reminder that Knoxville wasn't alone in his turmoil.

Henry's brow furrowed with concern as he watched Knoxville slump into the couch, his eyes sunken and his face pale. "If you want to somber up, I'll get some wine," Henry said, trying to offer a distraction.

Knoxville's voice was laced with desperation. "I need alcohol."

Henry's expression turned firm. "No, you know you can't drink it. It'll only make your illness worse."

Knoxville's gaze drifted away, his jaw clenched. "That's my problem, not yours."

Henry's tone took on a hint of frustration. "If you keep being like this, do you think you'll be able to survive until that game ends? You need to take care of yourself, not self-destruct."

Knoxville's eyes flashed with defiance, but Henry could see the weariness beneath. "I'll be fine," Knoxville muttered, but his words lacked conviction.

Henry sighed, his concern deepening. "You're not fine, Knoxville. You're sick, and you need help. Let me get you some water, or some tea... something to help you feel better."

Knoxville's gaze dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. For a moment, Henry thought he saw a glimmer of acceptance, but then Knoxville's mask slipped back into place. "Just leave me alone, Henry."

Henry hesitated, unsure whether to push the issue or give Knoxville space. But as he looked at his friend, he knew he couldn't back down. Knoxville's health was at stake and he might hurt himself if le

ft alone, and Henry was determined to ensure he got the care he needed.