Charles's blood-dripping left hand contrasted starkly with the crimson carpet, creating an almost seductive image. As Philip called out to him, Charles turned around slowly, eyes dim with sorrow. But the moment he saw August walking toward him at the doorway, something stirred deep inside—a strange blend of familial guilt and unspoken affection. In that brief glance, no words were needed. The connection was there, in their blood, in their shared pain. The person they had both spent their lives hating... was actually the one closest to them.
"What's this? No tearful reunion scene between long-lost brothers in front of me? What a shame. Norman's not here to see it!" Derrick's mocking voice slithered through the air like venom.
Charles and August—one turned his head, the other looked up. And in the next moment, their gazes locked on Derrick. The same hatred burned in both pairs of eyes.
It was a silent agreement, an unspoken bond only brothers could share.
