I spent ten years raising my stepson.

Even though he never once called me 'Dad,' I never let him go without. Food, clothes, tuition, living expenses, I paid for everything.

But on New Year's Eve, during the family reunion dinner, he suddenly spoke up in front of everyone.

"Old man, I've got my eye on that apartment in the old district that's about to be demolished. Transfer it to me. I'll use it as my wedding house."

I frowned.

"That apartment is meant for your mother's retirement and your sister's education. Pick another development instead. I'll help cover the down payment."

He slammed the table.

"A down payment? That's nothing.

"You want me to carry a mortgage at my age?"

Then he looked me dead in the eye.

"If you refuse to transfer the property, believe me, I'll make my mom divorce you."

Instinctively, I turned to look at my wife beside me.

But she only lowered her head in silence.

During the half minute she stayed silent, I finally understood.

This lavish New Year's Eve dinner had never been a family gathering.

It was a trap.

I slowly set down my fork, about to speak, when my wife had already pulled the deed to the old apartment out of her bag and stuffed it straight into Michael Payne's hands.

I froze.

What she was holding was the old version of the property deed.

A while back, when the neighborhood was being registered for demolition and relocation, I had searched everywhere and still could not find it. In the end, I had to ask the office staff to issue a replacement property title for me.

I never expected she had taken it long ago.

Only then did Natalie Walters turn toward me.

"Gerald Hensley, when you married me, you promised that apartment would belong to me eventually. Since that's the case, how it's handled should be my decision too. Michael is my only son. Now that he's getting married, of course I have to help him."

The moment Michael took the deed, his entire face lit up.

"Thanks, Mom! Knew you loved me the most!"

His fiancée, Hazel, smiled too and wrapped herself around his arm.

"Thank you, Natalie. Since the wedding apartment is settled now, let's go register our marriage on the eighth."

I looked at the happy little family in front of me and slowly clenched my fists.

I had raised him for ten years.

From helping him clean up trouble back in middle school, to sending him three thousand dollars every month throughout college without fail.

And yet, in all those ten years, he had never once called me Dad.

Even now, whenever he needed something from me, it was always 'Old Man' this and 'Old Man' that.

He had never even called me Uncle.

"This apartment is not happening.

"It's a school district property in the old city. Yes, I once said it would be left for your mother's retirement, but that was under the condition that I was dead and she had no one to rely on. Besides, this place is supposed to be kept for Jean when she goes to university."

Jean Hensley was my biological daughter. She had just turned eighteen and was currently in her final year of high school, the exact stage in life where expenses piled up the fastest.

The moment Michael heard Jean's name, his face darkened instantly.

"She's just a girl. What's the point of sending her to university? Even if she graduates, she'll just end up warming some man's bed anyway. Once she gets married, she belongs to someone else's family.

"Besides, my mom has me taking care of her. Why would she need your crappy apartment?"

I almost laughed from anger.

"You failed seven courses in four years of university, changed three jobs within six months after graduating, and can't even support yourself right now. What exactly are you planning to use to support your mother?"

Bang!

Michael slammed the table so hard the soup splashed out of the dishes.

Natalie immediately came over and tugged on my arm.

"Gerald, Michael getting married is a major life event. Jean's education can wait. Worst case, she can just take out student loans. She can work part-time and finish school that way."

Make my daughter borrow money for university, so her son could use my apartment as a marital home?

At that moment, the very last trace of warmth in my heart died completely.

Just then, the front door opened.

Jean had come home from her evening study. The moment she saw the atmosphere inside, she froze.

"Dad? Mom? What's going on?"

The instant Michael saw her, malice flashed across his face.

"Perfect timing. The little bad-luck charm is back."

He waved the property deed in his hand.

"Just letting you know, this apartment belongs to me now.

"There's no place for you there anymore. If you want somewhere to live, go stay at school and stop being an eyesore at home. Looking at you is bad luck."

Jean froze where she stood, her eyes darting back and forth between my ashen face and the property title in Michael's hand.

"Michael... wasn't that apartment supposed to be the one Dad saved for my university studies?"

Her voice was small, her body instinctively shrinking backward.

"And Dad bought it himself..."

"Shut up!"

Michael suddenly exploded, jabbing a finger straight at her face.

"You little b*stard nobody wanted! You and your dead mother are nothing but parasites!

"This apartment is mine. I'll give it to whoever I want. Since when does an outsider like you get to speak here?"

"Michael!" I barked. "Watch your mouth!"

"Oh, so what if I said it? She eats my food, spends my money, and now she wants a share of my apartment too? Dream on!"

Natalie sat beside him, not only making no attempt to stop him, but shooting Jean a look full of disgust.

"You damn girl, why are you interrupting adults talking? Go back to your room! Honestly, no sense at all. Can't you see your brother's in a good mood? What a curse."

I looked at Natalie's expressionless, ugly face, and for the first time, I felt nothing at all.

No anger. No disappointment. Nothing left.

"I'm not going back."

But this time, Jean was unusually stubborn. She walked over to my side and clutched tightly at my sleeve. Tears swirled in her eyes, her whole body trembling.

"Dad, that's your money. Why should he get it? He's a grown man already. Why is he taking my tuition money?

"I want to go to university..."

"University? My ass!" Michael snapped instantly.

He shot to his feet and grabbed the steaming bowl of chicken soup that had just been placed on the table.

"Oh, so you want an education? Fine. Let me help clear out that brain of yours!"

Before anyone could react, he hurled the entire bowl straight at her.

"Watch out!"

I did not even have time to think. I spun around and pulled Jean tightly into my arms, using my back to shield her from the scalding soup.

Crash!

Boiling broth and oil splashed across my back, running down my neck and soaking through my clothes. The skin instantly blistered from the heat.

A muffled groan escaped my throat as searing pain tore through my back.

"Ah!"

Jean had not been burned, but the sudden violence terrified her so badly that she let out a scream before freezing completely in shock.

Ignoring the pain behind me, I slowly turned to look at Michael.

For the first time in my life, I genuinely wanted to kill him.

Natalie rushed over immediately, but not to check whether I was hurt.

Instead, she grabbed Michael anxiously and looked him over from head to toe, hurriedly wiping oil stains from his sleeve with tissues.

"Michael, are you okay? Did you burn your hand?"

"Oh no, if oil stains this new jacket, it'll be impossible to clean! This thing cost over two thousand!"

Only after confirming her precious son was fine did she turn around and point at me furiously.

"Gerald! Look at the daughter you raised!

"She actually dared talk back to her brother!

"She pushed Michael this far. If my son had gotten burned, I'd never let this go!"

At that moment, the burns on my back no longer hurt.

Once your heart dies, physical pain means nothing.

I gently pushed aside the speechless, trembling Jean, slowly took off the jacket still dripping with greasy broth, and tossed it onto the floor.

"Natalie, that bowl of soup... you threw it well."

Something in my expression startled her. She instinctively stepped back, guilt flashing across her face for just a second before she straightened herself again.

"Stop pretending to be pitiful!

"I'm telling you, this isn't over!

"Since everything's already out in the open, Michael still needs two hundred thousand for the wedding expenses. And the renovation costs too. You can cover all of it while you're at it."

Michael smirked from the side and chimed in smugly.

"Oh, and the car too. Hazel's got her eye on a car. The down payment alone is at least one hundred fifty thousand.

"As long as the money's there, I'll let today's little incident slide."

"Let it slide? He threw boiling soup at my daughter and scared her half to death, and now he's saying he's willing to let it slide?"

"And what if I refuse?"

Michael's expression darkened. He pulled out his phone, switched on the camera, and pointed it straight at me.

"Refuse? Sure, go ahead.

"Gerald, it wasn't easy climbing your way up to a management position at your company, was it?

"What do you think will happen if I show up at your workplace with banners saying you abused your stepson, stole his property, and tried to leave him with nowhere to live?"

He shoved the camera closer to my face.

"You know how terrifying online outrage is these days. One headline about an 'evil stepfather' and your whole reputation is finished. Hell, you might not even get your pension.

"By then, forget about this little brat going to college. You and your daughter will be out begging on the streets, and nobody will spare you a second glance."

It was a vicious move.

I looked at the smug certainty on Michael's face, then at Natalie's expression, like all of this was perfectly justified.

Behind me, Jean was trembling so badly she did not even dare cry out loud.

Suddenly, I laughed.

"Fine." I nodded slowly. "Since this is what you want, then you can have it."

Natalie's eyes lit up. "You agreed? I knew you were the reasonable one, Gerald."

"Divorce."

Her smile froze.

"What did you say?"

"I said divorce."

I pointed toward the front door. "I'm done with this marriage. You want the house? You want the money? Fine. Sign the divorce papers and I'll leave with nothing."

The moment Natalie heard the words 'leave with nothing,' her eyes practically gleamed.

She did not even bother pretending to stop me. Instead, she immediately pulled a set of documents out of her bag, already printed and prepared.

"You all heard him!" she said loudly, slapping the papers onto the table as if afraid I might change my mind.

"I only prepared these to scare you a little at first, but since you brought it up yourself, let's sign them now."

I glanced down at the agreement.

Both apartments and all the savings would go to her.

Jean would stay with me.

She would not pay a single cent in child support.

"Gerald, don't blame me for being harsh."

Natalie handed me a pen as she spoke.

"Michael still hasn't established himself yet. As the adult in his life, it's only right for you to help him out a little more.

"I'm not worried about Jean staying with you anyway. You make good money, you can afford to raise her. Besides, you're a grown man. Surely you're not going to fight a widowed mother and her son for survival?"

"Mom, stop wasting time talking to him. Just get him to sign already!" Michael urged from the side, his eyes greedily fixed on the terms of the agreement.

"Once he signs, tell him to get the hell out. This house will be mine tonight. Just looking at this old b*stard makes me sick."

The relatives around us had stopped eating sunflower seeds. One by one, they craned their necks forward, eager for the drama.

Second Uncle even put on a fake show of mediating.

"Gerald, you're being a little impulsive here. But if it's for the sake of the children, I suppose that makes you a real man.

"Besides, giving the house to Michael keeps it within the family anyway."

I ignored the buzzing noise of all those flies.

Picking up the pen, I signed the wildly unfair agreement with firm strokes:

Gerald Hensley.

The moment I finished writing, an unexpected sense of relief washed over me.

"Jean, go pack your things."

I set the pen down and turned toward my daughter.

Only then did Jean finally snap out of her shock. Tears silently streamed down her face, her body still twitching slightly from the earlier fright.

"Dad... are we really leaving? This is our home."

"This stopped being a home a long time ago."

I crouched down and gently wiped away her tears.

"Be good. Go grab your schoolbag and textbooks. Leave everything else behind.

"Once something's filthy, taking it with you only makes you sick."

Jean did not understand why I sounded so resolute, but she had always been an obedient child. Wiping her tears, she quietly returned to her room.