Chapter 708: Am I Really Your Son?

In Miller Residence, a dark figure suddenly appeared in the pitch-black house.

If it weren't for the fact that everyone in the villa had returned home for the day, he would have surely scared them.

Out of habit, he looked towards the small room on the second floor and instinctively called out, "Mother."

But there was no reply.

He couldn't help but mock himself for being foolish because... his mother had passed away a long time ago.

No one would ever bring him a bowl of steamy soup again.

His eyes grew dim.

He navigated through the darkness and made his way up to the second floor. After changing into a black robe, he picked up his phone and headed out, alone, to watch a movie.

"Hell," a film by the renowned director, was highly praised by others but ended up being boring for him, as he dozed off in the theater.

Still by himself, lonely, he made his way home.

While on the road, he noticed a small shop that was still open. A big red lantern hung from the eaves, emitting a warm, golden-red glow.

Benson pushed his hands deeper into his sleeves, resembling a disappointed and solitary swordsman, as he walked inside.

A moment later, he walked out again.

Just like before, only this time he had an oily paper package in his hands.

As he passed through the living room, he was about to turn on the lights when suddenly the crystal chandelier brightened, illuminating the entire hall, which was immaculately clean. "You are back," a chilly voice suddenly echoed through the hall.

The person sitting on the sofa slowly stood up, their deep and composed eyes fixed directly on Benson.

It had been almost eight years since they last met.

Benson looked at his father, with his white hair, and a wave of excitement washed over him. He couldn't help but let tears well up in his eyes as he softly called out, "Father!"

"Mm!"

around fifty years

care, even his handsome eyebrows and eyes appeared to be

had

I'm going

who, after all these years, had grown taller than him by almost a

become

of redness in his eyes. He suppressed his emotions, trying to meet his father's gaze with a calm look. "I'm going too? I

command and glanced upstairs, his peripheral vision catching a glimpse of

emotions sank. "I want to stay here with

finished speaking, an unexpected backhand

fresh imprint of five fingers, its deep-set

turned frosty. His cold eyes resembled the harshness of winter as he declared, "You are not allowed to mention

not allowed to mention her? It was because of you that she died. If it weren't for

turned icy, accusing his father

resentful towards him about this matter, Rohan's figure trembled under the light, almost losing his balance

member of the Miller family! So, you should follow my arrangements. Whatever I tell you to

truly felt the irony of

let out a

contained in that smile made Rohan's

at his own palm with a determined

didn't regret

he found his own foolishness

on eggshells to please his father, studying hard, practicing

to let himself be hindered

because his father

excellent children.

devoting all his time

was the

him, the esteemed Rohan, the head of the Miller family, had

didn't lack a single one like

death, he wandered alone for

these years, he never received a single word of concern, nor a greeting. Even

go," Benson

he turned on his

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