The Real Heir Chose Death,Now They're All Drowning in Regret

But when the call actually went through—

Roy froze in place.

His eyes reddened, slowly, deliberately.

Then the tears fell.

"Roy?" Both women rushed to his side.

Roy covered his mouth, the phone already disconnected. "How could he say something like that to me?"

Juliana studied him with concern. "What happened?"

"He said I had no right to call him. That I should've died in that chest..."

Theresa's expression turned to ice.

She snatched the phone and left me a voicemail:

"Lambert Vance, if you want someone dead, go die yourself! This family has been Roy's home from the very beginning.

"You're nothing but a latecomer!

"If anyone should die, it's you!"

She hurled the phone onto the couch and turned to comfort her brother.

I hovered in the air.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Right. I was the latecomer.

I was the one who deserved to die.

This family never needed Lambert Vance.

But... wasn't I the one who was actually their child?

When my parents reviewed the party plans, they noticed my absence.

"Isn't it Lambert's birthday too? He can be difficult sometimes, but we should still go through the proper motions."

Theresa clenched her jaw. "Mom, Dad—do you have any idea what Lambert has done?"

They both looked at her, confused.

Over the next five minutes, Theresa told them everything.

Mom shot to her feet. "You're telling me Lambert hired someone to kill my Roy?!"

Theresa nodded. "Why else would he threaten Roy like that? The things he said, the way he did it—it's too twisted to be anything else."

Dad's fists tightened until his knuckles went white. "How could he say something so vicious?"

"No wonder he hasn't been picking up calls or answering texts. He knows what he's done. He doesn't have the nerve to show his face here!"

I laughed bitterly and closed my eyes.

Why...

Mom's eyes brimmed red. "It's not like we refused to acknowledge him! We accepted that he's the real Vance heir!

"After he came back, did we ever shortchange him? All we wanted was to keep the son we'd raised for twenty years. And he couldn't even tolerate that!

"Twenty years! Twenty years!"

She collapsed onto the table, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Dad rubbed her back, his own eyes glistening.

Mine stung too.

Yes. Twenty years.

Twenty years.

And I'd spent those same twenty years being told I had no parents. That nobody had raised me right.

"Lambert has gone too far this time."

Mom lifted her head. "Being difficult is one thing. But this? He tried to have someone killed!"

"Honey, what are you thinking?"

Mom looked at Dad. "I want to sever the mother-son relationship. Completely."

The air left my lungs.

"Is there some way to remove Lambert from the family register without him being present?"

"Mom..."

My voice shook. "What are you saying?"

You want to remove your own biological son from the family register?

Theresa frowned, unable to think of a way.

So she called Juliana.

"There is a way. It just takes a little time."

Mom's eyes were still raw and red. "Can it be done before Roy's birthday? I don't want Roy's celebration overshadowed by that brother of his!"

Juliana looked at her.

And nodded.

I dropped to my knees.

Both hands pressed over my eyes.

The day I was struck from the family register, my parents lit incense before the ancestral shrine.

"Let it be known that the unworthy descendant Lambert Vance, for harming his own flesh and blood and betraying all bonds of trust, is hereby removed from the ancestral records—never to be recorded again!"

"From this day forward, the Vance family has but one son: Roy Vance. We hereby declare this before heaven, earth, and our ancestors. May they bear witness!"

One son. Roy Vance.

I closed my eyes. Tears slid down from the corners.

The incense was placed in its holder.

My parents and my sister knelt together in a row.

I looked down at them from above as they bowed in solemn reverence.

Good. Very good.

I didn't want to be a Vance anymore either!

Not in this life. Not in any life. Never again.

But apparently, declaring it before the ancestors wasn't enough.

The living had to know too.

Roy's birthday banquet was the most extravagant celebration Theresa and Juliana had ever organized.

And at this grand, glittering affair, with every eye in the room watching—

My parents made the announcement themselves.

From this day forward, the Vance family had but one son: Roy Vance.

Everyone crowded around Roy to congratulate him.

Some said he'd grown up in the Vance household since childhood, that he was a true Vance through and through.

Others said he surpassed me in every way and deserved the position by right.

The spotlight orbited Roy.

My parents, my sister, and Juliana flanked him like a royal guard.

But every now and then, my parents' eyes drifted through the crowd, scanning, searching for someone.

Juliana kept glancing around too. Her champagne flute swirled absently in her hand.

"Do you think he's somewhere watching?"

Theresa's gaze swept back and forth, distracted. "Good if he is. He'd only be humiliating himself."

Someone did come.

Two figures pushed through the crowd.

Police officers.

"Excuse us. We're here to inquire about Lambert Vance."

"He's not here." My mother's voice was ice.

"He is, in fact, not here." The officer's expression turned apologetic. "We've recovered his remains."

"What?!"