My entire body tensed.

Ethan crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to mine. "Seeing your own proposal with my name on it while you don't even have the chance to stand on that stage—does it hurt?"

The air between us grew suffocating.

His voice lowered to a whisper, dripping with mockery. "Owen, if I were you, I would've been better off dying in that orphanage. At least there, you could still walk. That's far better than this—being unable to even stand."

My face gradually turned pale. My fingers trembled slightly, but I clenched them into fists to suppress my emotions.

Ethan wasn't finished.

"Oh, right. You still don't know, do you?" He chuckled. "It was Dad who stole your proposal and sent it to me."

The words sent a sharp jolt through me.

He leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting against my ear. "He said that you're nothing more than an orphanage boy. Showing up at the meeting would only bring shame to the Griffith Family."

My heart pounded violently against my ribcage.

"Your education, your looks—you can't compare to me in anything. And the parents you fought so hard to reunite with? They're the ones who crippled you. Even I feel sorry for you."

Just as I was about to react, he suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. Caught off guard, my balance wavered and I tumbled down a few steps with Ethan. The sound of our bodies hitting the stairs echoed sharply in the empty stairwell.

The commotion drew my father over. His face turned red with fury the moment he arrived.

Without hesitation, he slapped me across the face.

A sharp sting spread across my cheek. My head snapped to the side from the impact, my vision momentarily blurring.

"You disgraceful brat! What do you think you're doing? That's your brother! How could you lay a hand on him?"

I hadn't even gotten up when Ethan, ever so considerate, pushed my wheelchair toward me and helped me back into it. With a magnanimous expression, he said, "It's alright. Owen is still young. Seeing me present while he wasn't allowed on stage—it's normal for him to feel upset. I don't blame him."

The shareholders, who had followed the noise, exchanged confused glances.

"What brother? The Griffith Family has another son?"

"Mr. Peter, you never mentioned this to us."

My father's face darkened. He hesitated, clearly caught off guard.

Then, he forced a stiff smile and answered, "No, he's just an adopted child. A foster son, that's all. He wants to join the company, but it was just a misunderstanding. Sorry for making everyone confused..."

Everyone exchanged glances before sneering.

"So that's all he is—an adopted son? A cripple trying to compete with Mr. Ethan? That's way too ambitious."

"Mr. Peter, even an adopted child should know his place. You've already done enough by taking him in. Why bring him into the company?"

"Exactly! And now he's even laid hands on Mr. Ethan? You should just send him away before he causes more trouble."

My nails dug deeply into my palm, drawing blood as it dripped down, the sharp sting a mere whisper against the storm raging inside me.

The corner of my lips curled into a cold smile. I couldn't hold back my question.

"An adopted son? Is that all I am to you?"

"And what about my legs? Do you dare tell everyone the truth about how I ended up like this?"

My father's expression darkened, his tone impatient, dismissive. "Enough! Owen, this is no place for your nonsense. Apologize to your brother!"

Before I could say anything, Ethan put on his usual act of magnanimity and waved a hand dismissively. "Dad, it's fine. Owen didn't mean it. Let's just send everyone off first."

Without sparing me a single glance, my father led Ethan downstairs to see the shareholders out. The last shred of familial affection in my heart was completely crushed, the weight of the betrayal settled into my bones.

That night, my father was busy hosting Ethan's celebration banquet. He left me alone at home. As an afterthought, he had his assistant pack a few dishes and send them to me. Along with the food came a message of apology.

[Owen, those people in the company today were major shareholders. I had no choice. Don't misunderstand. It doesn't matter what they think; you will always be our son.]

[These are all your favorite dishes. Stay home and rest well. I'll bring you a gift when I return.]

I stared at the message for a long time, my grip tightening around the phone. The fragrant aroma of the meal filled the air, but I had lost all appetite. My father still thought a few sweet words and empty gestures could patch up years of neglect and betrayal. How laughable.

I didn't reply.

Instead, I laid out the medical reports I took from my parents' safe and ignored the switched medication on the table. They had taken everything from me—my position, my dignity, my feet—and now, they expected me to simply accept it.

No. Not this time.

I packed my bags overnight. By the time the city lights dimmed and the world fell silent, I was already en route to the airport.

***

After the banquet ended, my father finally had a moment to reflect. An inexplicable unease settled in his chest as he recalled everything that had happened at the company.

Sighing, he turned to my mother, speaking softly, "Ethan is now the chairman. Why don't we take this opportunity to publicly announce that Owen is our son as well? This should stop people from badmouthing him."

My mother's eyes welled up with tears, relief washing over her face. She immediately reached for her phone, eager to share the good news with me. Just as she was about to send the message, my father's assistant burst into the room, his face drained of color.

"Sir, Madam, bad news! Mr. Owen has found out about the car accident! I can't reach him!"