I closed the safe with a quiet click. My chest felt unbearably tight, as if someone had placed a heavy stone inside it.

Then, without hesitation, I took out my phone and booked a flight abroad for three days later.

Since there was no place for me in this home, I would leave.

At the dinner table that evening, my parents exchanged glances. Their silent communication didn't escape me. Though they tried to act natural, the guilt in their eyes was unmistakable.

My mother placed an entire plate of sweet and sour ribs in front of me. The aroma, once comforting, now felt suffocating. With delicate precision, she picked up a piece, deboned it carefully and placed the tender meat into my bowl.

Her hands trembled slightly.

As if afraid I would be upset, she forced a smile and tried to comfort me.

"Owen, don't worry. No matter what happens, our family's wealth is more than enough to support you—even if you can't walk again." She paused, her voice softening. "Rest assured. Your dad has already found the best doctors in the world. There must be a way to treat you."

The sheen of unshed tears in her eyes almost made me falter.

Holding onto my last shred of hope, I asked, "Can I still attend the shareholders' meeting?"

My father's expression stiffened. A barely perceptible frown appeared between his brows before he sighed and said patiently, "Owen, you haven't recovered yet. I don't want you to tire yourself out. Why don't you just forget about the proposal?"

"But, Dad, I spent a whole month preparing for it." My voice was quieter now, almost pleading. "I really want to go..."

Perhaps it was because I had never asked them for anything before. Perhaps it was because, for the first time, I was openly showing my desperation. Whatever the reason, my parents hesitated.

In the end, they reluctantly agreed.

***

Early the next morning, I went to the hospital alone for a checkup. I wanted to know the truth about my condition, whether there was still a chance for me to stand again.

I never expected to run into Ethan there.

A group of Griffith Family bodyguards flanked him in an imposing formation. Their coordinated steps, the sharp suits, the cold vigilance in their eyes—everything about them screamed untouchable authority. Ethan, dressed in a crisp tailored suit, walked ahead of them with effortless confidence.

From the side, I overheard the hushed discussions of the medical staff.

"Griffith heir, huh? Quite the entourage. I heard his checkup alone costs over a hundred grand. The Griffiths sure don't hold back, do they?"

"Yeah, he's about to inherit the company soon. Those bodyguards are on his dad's dime. They baby him. And get this—they snagged our best doc with a million-dollar paycheck just for him!"

"He had it all. Best schools, his dad's personal picks. Compared to that, we're just nothing. I guess birth really is everything..."

Every word stabbed into my heart like a dagger, leaving me breathless.

They didn't know. No one knew that Ethan was adopted.

No one knew that my parents' favoritism toward Ethan was not just preference—it was a deliberate choice. Even though I, their real son, had been found, it had changed nothing. The heir had already been decided long ago.

Compared to him, I was nothing more than dust beneath their feet.

And my father...

The moment he heard that Ethan had arrived for his checkup, he dropped everything and rushed over. His long strides were filled with urgency, his usual composed demeanor faltering for the first time.

Then, his eyes landed on me.

A flicker of panic flashed across his face before he quickly schooled his expression into something more neutral.

"Owen? What are you doing here?"

His voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension to it.

Before I could answer, he quickly added, "I came to get your medicine and while I was at it, I brought your brother for a checkup."

Afraid I would take it the wrong way, he hastily explained, "Don't misunderstand, son. Given your current condition, we can't afford to let anything happen to your brother. The company needs an heir—I had no choice but to schedule this checkup for him."

I swallowed my bitterness and forced a smile.

"I understand. It's my fault for being useless. At least with my brother here, he can help share the burden for the family."

Relief visibly washed over my father's face.

He reached out and gently patted my head. The gesture should have been reassuring. It should have made me feel like his son. But now, all it did was solidify the distance between us.

"Owen, you're still the most understanding one." He smiled. "Once the shareholders' meeting is over, I'll finally be able to retire. By then, how about I take you and your mother on a trip abroad?"

"If there's a place you like, we can even settle down there. A good mood will help with your recovery."

Just then, the phone screen on my wheelchair lit up.

Out of the corner of his eye, my father caught a glimpse of the notification.

His smile faltered.

"A plane ticket?" His voice dipped into suspicion. "Owen, why did you buy a ticket?"

I picked up my phone and casually swiped away the message. "What ticket? It was probably just an ad from an airline."

My father let out a breath of relief, not thinking much of it. With a slight nod, he personally ordered a driver to take me home. He didn't question me further and I didn't offer any explanations.

As soon as I reached the front door, a pile of packages crowded the steps. Large, heavy boxes wrapped in luxurious packaging bore my mother's name as the recipient. The sheer number of them made the entrance feel suffocating.

Curious, I leaned forward and carefully tore open the edge of one package. Inside, I found a sleek, branded laptop—the latest model, still in its factory packaging. I opened another. This time, it was a property deed for a high-end river-view villa in a prime location, the kind that was nearly impossible to purchase without deep connections.

Every single one of these gifts had a small tag attached.

For Ethan.

The weight of realization pressed heavily on my chest, but before I could process it, I heard approaching footsteps. I quickly set the package down and adjusted my expression just as my mother appeared at the doorway.

She forced a smile, but the corners of her lips trembled slightly. "Owen, when did you go out? I've been so busy I didn't even notice." Her eyes flickered to the half-opened package and for a brief second, panic flashed across her face. "These are just some office supplies for your dad. They must have been sent here by mistake. Don't touch them. Come on, I'll help you inside so you don't hurt yourself."

She spoke hurriedly, her words piling on top of each other as if she was trying to drown out any further questions. But I didn't ask anything. There was no point.

I nodded silently and followed her back inside.

Later that evening, I ate the warm soup she had specially prepared for me, but my heart had already turned ice-cold.

For the next three days, my parents were busy preparing a grand celebration banquet for Ethan. They spent their time coordinating with the hotel, finalizing the guest list and arranging the perfect event. To them, nothing was more important.

Meanwhile, I drank the medicines my parents gave me—though I already knew they had been switched with just vitamins. I quietly made the final revisions to my proposal, checking and rechecking every detail. But no amount of preparation could have readied me for what happened next.

***

The day of the shareholders' meeting arrived. I dressed carefully, making sure I looked as professional as possible. Even if I couldn't stand, I wanted to be taken seriously.

But they never even left me with the last shred of opportunity.

Ethan was the first to present. I listened absentmindedly at first, assuming his proposal would be the typical corporate nonsense. But the moment his project proposal appeared on the massive screen, I froze.

It was identical to mine.

Every. Single. Detail.

A chill spread through my veins. My mind went blank for a second, refusing to process what was happening. My fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms.

How? How did he get it?

When the presentation ended, the entire room erupted into applause. My father was the first to stand, clapping enthusiastically, his expression brimming with pride. His smile stretched wide, his satisfaction almost glowing.

Everyone praised Ethan for his talent, calling his project innovative and promising. They spoke of his limitless future, his potential to lead the company into a new era.

And me? I wasn't even given a glance.

My throat tightened, but before I could do anything, Ethan walked toward me and gripped the handle of my wheelchair, pushing me toward the stairwell. His grasp was firm as he maneuvered me into the isolated space.

Once we were alone, his mask slipped.

He glanced down at my legs, his lips curling into a contemptuous smirk. "What's the matter? Even after becoming a cripple, you still refuse to stay put? You just had to come out and steal the spotlight?"