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
his well-defined features. With proper care, even his handsome eyebrows and eyes appeared to be in their
Rohan, whom Cheyenne had encountered
all the household staff. I'm going to Truphis
spoke while examining Benson, who, after all these years, had grown
become a
to his deceased wife in his appearance, causing a hint of redness in his eyes. He suppressed his emotions, trying to meet his father's gaze with a calm look. "I'm
Benson refused his command and glanced upstairs, his peripheral vision catching a
emotions sank. "I want to stay
speaking, an
and beautiful face bore a fresh imprint
at his father, whose face had turned frosty. His cold eyes resembled the harshness of winter as he declared,
I not allowed to mention her? It was because of you that she died. If it weren't for you, she
eyes as his voice turned
that Benson was still resentful towards him about this matter, Rohan's figure trembled under the light, almost losing his balance and falling. Fortunately,
son, a member of the Miller family! So, you should follow
this moment, Benson truly felt
out a
bitterness and mockery contained in that smile made
glanced at his own
didn't regret slapping
Benson laughed because he found his own
on eggshells to please his father, studying hard, practicing
let himself
because his father
excellent children.
every day, devoting all his time to playing the piano and learning Praying
was the same
Rohan, the head of the Miller family, had plenty
didn't lack a single one
he wandered
never received a single word of concern, nor a greeting. Even when
won't go," Benson
decision, he turned on his heel and
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