Kendrick's POV
"It's my father's."
The words rolled off my tongue so casually, but they landed in the room like a bomb.
For a moment, silence swallowed everything. The only sound was the faint crackle of fire in the hearth, the smoke curling above my grandfather's cigar as he froze in shock. His hand, usually steady and firm, trembled slightly as the ash fell onto the desk.
His sharp eyes locked on mine, widening first in disbelief, then narrowing with unbridled fury then, his entire body stiffened, his jaw clenching so hard I could hear his teeth grinding from across the desk.
"What did you just say?" His voice was low and guttural, like a beast struggling to stay chained.
I leaned back in the chair, meeting his stare without flinching.
My lips curved into a faint smirk.
"You heard me clearly, Grandfather. That child isn't mine, It belongs to Raymond." I repeated without any emotion.
The name cracked the room like thunder.
