It begins.

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With Stephen Richard Adelwood, anger had never been a subtle affair to be simply brushed aside.

When he got angry, the world knew it for he never concealed his anger. He never showed it off either. You could just discern it, the way you discern summer from winter. It became obvious without being remarked at. His anger was like a human entity. You could tell it was here, sitting beside you, looking at you, staring and you had to fear it.

You had to feel it.

It had a shape and size. It was rare and primordial. Like truth.

And that kind of resentment was intensifying up within him, as Stephen sat by his father, listening to the chronicle of a girl for whom he should not have cared for in the first place. His throat felt clogged wordlessly as his emotions grew fiercer per moment by, his hand got fisted, his jaw hardened and the vein in his neck was visibly pulsing.

His father had noticed it, this change in his air. He had gauged the prevailing temper.

"Listen, Stephen." Lord Adelwood began cautiously. "What I did was for your happiness. I never had any_"

That was when the dam exploded.

"No. You listen, father dear." Stephen roared, shedding all barriers. "What I did was for your happiness. I married Eden for I didn't want to go against your will. I felt too reliant to question your objective. What you did was sheer selfishness. Too proud, are you not, Father? Of how smartly you prearranged your moves. How wonderfully you placed her hand in mine. How noble your intentions were. But let me inform you, that today, neither am I a content man and nor is she a fortunate wife!"

He paused breathing hard, looking straight into the green eyes of his father who sat there, inexpressively, in front of him_ quiet and calm.

"She is suffering father, all thanks to you." He hissed.

"I was never selfish, Stephen." Lord Adelwood spoke at last.

"Oh, weren't you?" Stephen shook his head slowly. "Then tell me if you have informed her of her esteem and all that she is worth."

"Even with all the handful she has, she would never have been able to find a respectable man for the tag she has been claimed under." Lord Adelwood said, matter-of-factly. "A rake or a scoundrel is all she could have attracted."

"And who told you to decide that father?" spatted Stephen. "Who are you to decide that?"

"Think like a delegate, boy! I did all that was best for her."

"What of her chattel?" Stephen inquired impatiently. "Are they still with you? All her property? The bidding?"

"I had it all solicited into your possession." Was the answer.

"Without my knowledge?"

"I am your father, Stephen and not your steward!" The old man growled. "I can do all I wish for you."

Green eyes glowering, Stephen ran his hand through his hair. His hand trembled at his side as he fisted them, his knuckles turned white. His nails dug into his palm.

He stood up, breathing hard and grinding his teeth. "Life is not a game of chess, father and I am no tactician."

He left the table and walked three steps away from it_ then turned. "And never ever say that you did it for me."

That much and he marched off, into the house. His lean, tall body walked across the house like an angry gush of wind from the back verandah to the front one, from where he snatched his hat and stride out the main entrance.

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