All of a sudden, something flickered in Winston's dark, lifeless eyes. It was as if a hole had been torn through the very core of his being, sending cracks splintering across his entire world in an instant.
A familiar, crushing pain seized his chest again-so intense that he let out a low groan and clutched at his heart.
"Mr. Taylor!"
Neil rushed forward and caught Winston as he trembled, steadying him with both hands. He shot Anthony a sharp look, barely holding back his anger. "Mr. Stewart, if you have something to say, just say it. Mr. Taylor has only just recovered from his illness. He doesn't have the strength to go back and forth with you like this!"
"I'll get straight to the point, then."
In an instant, all warmth vanished from Anthony's face. A cold, commanding authority settled over him as he declared, "I intend to acknowledge my son and bring him home. I will also name him the heir to the throne."
Neil's chest heaved as his hands curled into tight fists.
Felicity passed away a few short years after giving birth to Alyssa. Her sons had still been young then, and Winston had taken on the roles of both father and mother, devoting everything he had to raise them into kind, upright men.
He had worn himself down-body and soul-for the sake of their future.
And now, this man-who had spent all these years living comfortably in another country, willfully ignorant while enjoying the glory of being king-suddenly remembered his children only when his royal family was in crisis, teetering on the brink of collapse.
Even knowing Felicity had been pregnant with his children, Anthony had left her to wander through life alone because of his own selfishness. What had he been thinking back then? And now that the children were grown, he returned to claim them, as if he could simply step in and play the role of their father?
How utterly shameless.
"Your son? What do you mean by 'your son'?"
Winston's breathing grew ragged. His face turned paler by the second, sweat trickling down his gaunt cheeks. "Your son isn't here. They... They are my sons!"
Even without his memories, his love for his children was carved deep into his soul, just like how his heart would ache uncontrollably at the mere mention of Felicity's name.
The moment he realized that Anthony was trying to take his sons away, his instincts as a father surged to the surface, driving him to protect them at all costs.
To Winston, Jonah, Silas, Liam, and Axel would always be those tiny infants he had first held in his arms-crying, fragile, and utterly dependent on him. No matter how much they had grown, no matter how capable they had become, they would always be his children.
Even if he were reduced to ashes, he would still protect them. That was a father's instinct.
"Haven't you lost your memories?" Anthony said coolly. "Whether it's Felicity or your so-called children, you've forgotten them all. Your life is a blank slate now-no past, no stories to tell."
A faint, insincere smile curved his lips, his expression as detached as if Winston were nothing more than one of his subjects.
"They no longer mean anything to you, so why cling to them so desperately? For me, it's different. I need my sons, and more importantly, the Kontinjan royal family needs them.
"Besides, you still have other children, don't you? At the very least, you won't die alone—"
"That's absolute nonsense!" Winston roared, his voice shaking with fury.
Pushed beyond his limits, he glared at Anthony through bloodshot eyes. "You're
here to take my sons just because you don't have any of your own? How can you be so shameless?"
Ivan snapped, "Why, you—"
"Want a son? Then go find a woman and have one! Don't you dare think about taking mine!"
Deep down, Neil couldn't help but applaud Winston's retort.
Anthony's face turned deathly pale. Silently, he clenched his fists until his knuckles went white.
.n
In all his 60 years, no one had ever dared to speak to him like that Winston was the first. What he didn'ť yet realize was that the second,
third, and fourth were about to show
up. sŵnovel
Alyssa arrived at the door, breathing hard, sweat beading on her forehead from running.
"Where's Dad?"
"He's inside," Silas replied, worry etched in his voice.
"What in the world could have happened to bring the royal family to our home? This
is unbelievable!"
As far-fetched as it sounded, the reality was unfolding right before them.
A wave of dread washed over
Alyssa. She felt like a cat on a hot tin
roof. "Where are Miley and Jeremy?
Something this big
happened shouldnt they have
come back from Kontina by now?"
"Lyse!"
At the call, Alyssa turned, her eyes lighting up instantly as she saw Miley and
Jeremy rushing toward her.
"Miley! Jeremy!"