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!"
fifty years old, stood tall
care, even his handsome eyebrows and eyes appeared
Rohan, whom Cheyenne had encountered in the
all the household staff. I'm going to Truphis tomorrow, and this time you're coming with
Benson, who, after all these years, had grown taller than him
become
He suppressed his emotions, trying to meet his
refused his command and glanced upstairs, his
emotions sank. "I want to stay
as he finished speaking, an unexpected backhand
his delicate and beautiful face bore a fresh imprint of five fingers, its deep-set
in astonishment at his father, whose face had turned frosty. His cold eyes resembled the harshness of winter
am I not allowed to mention her? It was because of you that she died. If it weren't for you, she
in Benson's eyes as his voice turned icy,
Rohan's figure trembled under the light, almost losing his balance and falling. Fortunately, he had a cane in his hand
So, you should
felt the irony of
a deeply disappointed
that smile made Rohan's heart
glanced at his own palm with a
didn't regret
Benson laughed because he
always walked on eggshells to please his father, studying hard,
let himself
his
excellent children.
day, devoting all his time to playing
received was the
Rohan, the head of the Miller family, had
didn't lack a
he wandered
word of concern, nor a greeting. Even when they met, it was distant
go,"
he turned on his heel
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