You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 25

The heavy oak door slammed shut with a deafening crash, rattling the walls and sending a chill through the room. Tay stormed in, his broad shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides. His eyes blazed with a fury that had been building for years, and the tension in the air was thick, as if the entire room was holding its breath.

Behind the grand desk, Kanaphan sat unmoved, his presence imposing and calm. His fingers lightly drummed on the polished wood, the only sign of life in an otherwise still room. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind him framed the sprawling cityscape outside, the world beyond seeming distant and disconnected from the raw emotion radiating from his son.

Tay's pulse hammered in his ears as he advanced toward the desk, every step a heavy thud that echoed through the silence. Without warning, he slammed his fist down onto the desk, the sharp crack of his knuckles against the wood reverberating like thunder.

"Enough!" Tay's voice broke through the heavy silence, raw and trembling with the weight of his rage. His breath came in jagged gasps, and the words he had held back for so long finally spilled out. "I didn't dare to get involved the last time you punished First. I stood by like a coward. But not this time. I won't stand here and watch my little brother die!"

The words hung in the air between them, a challenge, a plea, and a declaration all at once. Kanaphan's eyes didn't flicker, though his lips curled slightly into a sardonic smile. He seemed entirely unfazed, as though he had known this moment would come. His gaze was as cold and controlled as the room itself, and his voice, when it came, was calm-almost disinterested.

"So, you've come to defile me as well? To spit on everything I've built?" Kanaphan's words were measured, a quiet storm beneath the surface. His eyes never left Tay's, sharp and unyielding.

Tay leaned over the desk, his fists still planted on the wood, knuckles white with the force of his grip. His breath was ragged now, chest heaving with frustration. "Defile you? First is your son. How can you do this to him? How can you keep justifying this cycle of blood and betrayal?"

The words were as much for himself as they were for his father, a challenge to the very foundation of everything Kanaphan had built. The empire, the ruthlessness, the endless war-all of it seemed to crash against Tay now, and he wanted to tear it all down.

Kanaphan's expression remained unmoved, though there was a slight narrowing of his eyes, a flicker of something deeper beneath the surface. His voice came again, low and final. "It's the way it should be. This is the legacy we've inherited. It's survival."

Tay's heart thundered in his chest, his disbelief giving way to a surge of anger. "Survival?" he spat, incredulous. "The empire is in shambles, Father! What the hell are you trying to protect? You're not just losing your empire-you're losing your sons too! Is that what you want? Fine. Then know this: I'm done standing on the sidelines. I'll fight too."

He stood tall now, his gaze unwavering, challenging his father as he had never dared to before. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it that spoke of a deep and growing resolve. Kanaphan's lips twisted into a bitter smile, the disdain in his expression evident. His eyes never wavered, but his words were sharp, like a cutting edge.

"Fight for what, Tay? You've always been soft. What do you think you can accomplish?"

The words stung, but Tay didn't flinch. His jaw tightened, his voice low but powerful. "I'm fighting for what First is fighting for. He's not just fighting against you-he's fighting to break the chains you've wrapped around this family. He's fighting for a future where we're not poisoned by hatred and greed. Don't you see it? He's sacrificing himself so that the next generation won't have to live this way."