Chapter 8
- His shoes clicked on the floor as he walked down the shiny polished hall.
- As he neared his father's office, he could also hear the faint mumblings coming from his stepbrothers in the second hall.
- The maids followed him with each step he took, with heads bent low in submission.
- His suit jacket swung over his left shoulder, with his right hand in his pocket, a cold look on his handsome face.
- He nudged the door to his father's office with his right leg, walking in with all his glory.
- "You are so bold now that you can't even dare to knock." His father's voice boomed from behind the table, the walls bouncing his unusually deep voice.
- "Why bother when you are never going to answer anyway?" He said, standing tall, his charisma never faltering.
- "Besides, that's the only way you can tell it's me. " He deadpanned, looking at his father with no emotion on his face.
- "Ah, I see." His father chuckled, as the sound darted off the walls. "You are still as cold as I remember you to be."
- "It's what you wanted, isn't it?" He asked sarcastically, his head tilting to the side.
- His sarcastic reply caught his father off guard, making his eyes widen a little and a sharp laugh escape his chest.
- "Get to it, old man. I don't have all day. I have places to be and people to kill. What do you want? "
- His sentence rang into the air, cutting his father's laugh midway before a serious look materialised on his face.
- His father ignored his question and walked around the table and over to the door.
- "Come, eat. We would talk over lunch." His father explained, with his hands behind his back.
- Marcos felt his body twitch in rage as he stared at his father's leaving figure. His hard gaze burned a hole through his father's head.
- His father's lips curved into an amused grin, his eyes taunting him as he peered at him.
- "Are you going to stand there and continue murdering me with your eyes?"
- He could hear the mockery in his father's deep voice. He knew his father enjoyed this, but he would never give his father the satisfaction of seeing him tick.
- "If it does the job, then I would gladly continue." He replied smugly, his voice empty and cold, as he walked past his father.
- He strode into the dining halls, where a large table fit enough to host thirty people stood, chairs all lined up accordingly under the table.
- Different sorts of meals lay on the table like it was a feast.
- Without waiting for his father, or anyone else, he walked over to the far end of the table and sat on the chair.
- He felt the glares coming from his stepbrothers and stepmothers but ignored them all.
- His gaze scanned the vast dining hall before settling on a teenager, his back against a pillar, his face detached.
- The young boy looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
- Their eyes connected, but only for a brief moment because the young boy snapped his head quickly to the side with a scoff and not before throwing a glare his way.
- A soft chuckle escaped his lips at the childish behaviour of his younger brother, bringing him back to the days when his brother was still a child.
- A voice pulled him out of his mini trance, snapping him out of his thoughts.
- "I think you have the wrong seat." The voice chuckled, drawing closer to him.
- His head snapped to the sound of the voice, but he knew whose voice it was.
- "I never make a mistake." He retorted, his eyes dropping like they usually did out of boredom.
- "Then I think this is your first." He heard his father chuckle, " By the way, thanks for keeping my seat warm."
- "Take the other seat." He ordered, his face calm and cold but his voice firm and loud enough for everyone to hear.
- "How rude!"
- A fist banged onto the table and a harsh voice echoed.
- "How dare you order my father around and try to tell him where to sit!"
- Marcos raised a brow, a small dry laugh coming from him, as a dark light flickered in his eyes.
- It had been so long since he had had a feud with any of his stepfamilies because he was never around. He had arrived, and it wasn't even up to ten minutes, but a drama was about to happen.
- This was so going to be interesting if they thought he was still the same.
- "If he is your father, then how is he to us then, and what are we to him?"
- Marcos' lips twitched and threatened to break into a smile as he stared at the reddened face of his stepbrother.
- "Cat got your tongue?" He sneered at his stepbrother when he got no response.
- "No. I was only looking for the right words to say it in, but I guess I don't need them since you want my answer raw, "he replied with a smirk.
- "The great and mighty Frederick, do tell us what we are to your dearly beloved father." Marcos mocked him with a huge grin on his face.
- Frederick clasped his fists beside him, his jaw clenching as he gritted his teeth.
- "You are nothing but bastards. My father decided to pity you so you would not end up on the streets, but now you are taking it too far. "
- The faces of his other stepbrothers and stepmother's turned into a scowl as they growled at him.
- A hearty laugh erupted from Marcos as he held his head back, tears staining the corners of his eyes due to how hard he laughed.
- "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it, it just came out of me," he said in between chuckles, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.
- " I always knew you were stupid, Frederick, and I never expected you to become a fool no matter how many years passed." He mused, staring at the furious look on Frederick's face.
- "How dare you insult me like that?! What gave you the galls?" Frederick demanded furiously, banging his fists harder onto the table, his eyes flashing a bright yellow.
- "Shut up. Even now, I am still right, and do you think flashing your eyes was supposed to get a reaction from me? " He sighed, shaking his head.
- "Frederick, Frederick, Fredrick. You still have a lot to learn from my father concerning me. "
- "Why you bas —"
- "Enough!"
- His father's voice rang out, cutting whatever Frederick wanted to say.
- "I called you all here to have a family lunch and to announce something important to you, not this nonsense."
- He roared, his anger soaring through the roof, making everyone in the room freeze in fright.
- "Now you decide to speak?" Marcos snorted, his voice indifferent, and his position unchanged.
- "One more word from you, Marcos, and that is the last straw." He barked, angrily, his face flushed in rage.
- "You can't do shit to me, old man." He jeered.
- "Quiet! Not a word from any of you. Everyone sits down and eats quietly." His father yelled, his voice commanding, as everyone took a seat.
- Marcos sneered in his head, but a smile broke on his face when his little brother sat next to him.
- He watched his father take a seat at the other end of the table and sent a sly smirk toward Fredrick.
- A cunning smile appeared on his lips as he watched Fredrick bend a spoon in anger, his mother trying to coax him.
- Lunch might just take an interesting turn, he thought as he smirked.