Chapter 3Arrogance Knows No Bounds

Alice froze for a second, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Wow, Liam. I really underestimated you. You'd say anything to win my affection, wouldn't you?"

Without another glance at me, she stood up and walked to the door. As she pulled it open, she tossed a final, cold remark over her shoulder.

"You're the one who pushed me away. So don't go crying to Grandfather that I'm neglecting you. It only makes you more pathetic."

The door clicked shut, and the room was silent again. I scrubbed at my lips, trying to wipe away the phantom sensation of her touch, the lingering scent of her perfume.

We had been in love once.

On her eighteenth birthday, she had stood before me, twenty years old myself, her cheeks flushed a charming shade of pink. "Liam... can I like you?" she'd asked, her voice barely a whisper. "I promise, I'll be so good to you."

Looking into her shy, hopeful eyes, my heart had melted. As if in a trance, I had nodded.

For the next two years, I treated her like she was the center of the universe, and she, in turn, acted as if she would pluck the stars from the sky for me. It was perfect.

Until we were twenty-two. Her grandfather summoned us to his study.

"Alice, Liam," he'd said, his voice firm but kind. "You're both of marrying age. I've taken the liberty of choosing an auspicious date for your wedding."

From that day forward, everything changed. Alice’s warmth vanished, replaced by a constant, simmering resentment. Her eyes, which once held adoration, now held only irritation and disgust.

I never understood what I had done wrong, and she never offered an explanation.

A year after we were married, she became pregnant. After the twins were born, she grew even more distant, spending her nights out, neglecting the children entirely. She flaunted her relationship with Ethan publicly, parading him around town without a single thought for my dignity.

I tried to fight it. I argued, I pleaded. But Alice would just stare at me with a cold, dismissive smirk.

"I gave you what you wanted, didn't I? The position as the Blackwood son-in-law, the children. What more do you want?" she'd sneer. "Do you know how pathetic you sound, Liam? Your whining just makes me sick."

After that, I stopped asking for reasons. I stopped asking about her nights with him. I simply focused on my children, building a life with them in the quiet corners of our cold house.

In seven years of marriage, Alice never loved me, and she never loved our children.

I thought we could continue like that, that I could find enough joy in my children to sustain me. I thought my life still had purpose.

But now, even that had been taken from me.

The next morning, Mr. Blackwood and Mark took me to the crematorium. As the two small caskets were pushed into the furnace, the tears I had been holding back finally broke free, streaming silently down my face. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, determined not to make a sound.

Mark looked at me, his face a mask of worry. "Liam, if you need to cry, just let it out. It's okay."

I just shook my head, unable to speak.

Mr. Blackwood slammed his cane against the floor. "That monster!" he roared. "Where is she? On a day like this, how could a mother not be here?"

A flicker of anger crossed Mark’s face, followed by a guilty glance in my direction. He lowered his voice. "I tried calling her. Her phone is off."

When the attendant returned with two small, ornate boxes, Mr. Blackwood reached out with a trembling hand.

But I stepped forward first, taking the urns and clutching them to my chest. "I'll take them," I said, my voice hollow. "They're my children."

Mr. Blackwood opened his mouth to protest, but I sank to my knees before him.

"Grandfather, I owe you a debt I can never repay. But these are my children. I'm begging you..." My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "They are my children. They will not be buried in the Blackwood family plot. They will not carry the Blackwood name in death."

Mr. Blackwood’s brow furrowed in pain. Mark quickly put a steadying hand on his arm, his eyes full of sympathy for me. "Okay, Liam," Mark said. "You're their father. It's your decision."

I gave him a grateful look before rising to my feet. Cradling the two urns, I walked out of the crematorium and went straight home. I had to pack their things. I couldn't leave a single trace of them behind in that cold, empty house.

But as I pushed open the front door, a vulgar sound met my ears.

"Oh, Ethan, stop it... I just got pregnant. The doctor said we need to be careful..."