James sat silently in the back of his black SUV, his jaw clenched as he stared out the tinted window. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as the car sped through the streets. He couldn't shake the anger bubbling beneath the surface. How had he let Marcus plant seeds of doubt in his mind? His father, Robert, had loved Evelyn deeply—James was certain of that.
Jordan’s investigation had confirmed it. Evelyn’s death was due to cancer. Her medical records were clear. There was no foul play, no hidden conspiracy. The guilt weighed heavily on James, and now he had to face Marcus again, knowing the man had manipulated him.
By the time the SUV pulled up to the restaurant, James was seething. He adjusted his hood and sunglasses, stepping out with the air of someone who meant business. The restaurant was modest but elegant, its warm, ambient lighting casting shadows on the walls. Marcus was already seated at a corner table, his face lighting up with a hopeful smile when James approached.
"James," Marcus greeted warmly, standing as if to embrace him.
James didn’t return the smile. He raised a hand, stopping Marcus in his tracks. “Don’t.” His tone was cold, and it made Marcus freeze.
James sat down, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at his uncle. “I trusted you,” he began, his voice low but simmering with anger. “I listened to you, considered your accusations, and doubted Robert because of you.”
Marcus’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. “James, what’s going on? What happened?”
“What happened?” James repeated, leaning forward. “Jordan happened. He investigated everything—my mother’s death, her medical records—and guess what? Nothing. Nothing suspicious, no foul play, no evidence to back up your claims. Just cancer. She died of cancer, Marcus.”
Marcus’s face paled, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “James, I—”
“No,” James interrupted sharply, his voice rising a bit. “You made me doubt Robert. Do you know how that feels? To look at the man who cared for my mother through her illness, and wonder if he could’ve killed her?”
For a moment, Marcus looked like he might cry. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said again, “I loved Evelyn, James. She was my sister and all I wanted was justice cause her death was too sudden to accept.”
James shook his head, his anger simmering down into cold disappointment. “If you loved her, you’d honor her memory by letting go of these baseless accusations. She’s gone, Marcus. Let her rest by trusting the man she loved— Robert is a good man.”
Marcus didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the table. James stood, throwing a few bills onto the table to cover their drinks. “This is the last time we meet. I have no interest in entertaining your delusions anymore.”
As James turned to leave, Marcus called out, his voice desperate. “James, wait. Please.”
Marcus wanted to open his mouth and scream at James that Robert wasn't a good man. The Robert he knew was merciless, heartless, and filled with intense greed. He'd do anything to get rid of anyone who refused to align with his way of thinking, and his poor sister was just another victim. However, he couldn't tell the truth without evidence, or else his kind nephew would get upset.
Marcus never blamed James for getting angry or defensive whenever someone criticized Robert. After all, James idolized his father as a strong man who struggled to get where he is today. It wasn't James's fault that Robert had painted himself as a selfless victim rather than the mastermind of so much destruction.
But Marcus had seen the real Robert. He had watched him manipulate, betray, and destroy anyone who stood in his way, including Marcus's sister. The thought of her suffering still gnawed at his heart.
Still, Marcus couldn't bring himself to shatter James's perception of his father. Not yet. He needed proof, something concrete to make James see the truth. Until then, he'd remain silent. 
For now, Marcus swallowed his words and forced a tight smile. "I'm just saying, be careful with people like Robert. They often have hidden sides you don’t see right away."
James frowned, his tone sharp. "Robert may not have been perfect, but he wasn't the monster you make him out to be."
Marcus didn't argue. Instead, he nodded quietly. One day, he thought. One day, you'll understand.
James paused but didn’t look back. “Goodbye, Marcus.”
He walked out of the restaurant. The night air was cold, but James barely felt it as he climbed into his car.
He wouldn’t let Marcus’s grief or guilt poison the little memories of his parents. Evelyn had been loved, and her death, though tragic, was not shrouded in mystery. James had his answers, and he decided to leave the past where it belonged.
****
James pulled into his driveway, his mind clouded with thoughts of work and the heavy burden of unfinished business. All he wanted was the solace of his home, but as he stepped inside, that peace was stolen in an instant.
Lilian was sitting on his couch, her legs crossed elegantly, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee. She looked far too comfortable for someone who had no right to be there.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was sharp, his fists clenching at his sides.
Lilian didn’t flinch. She placed the mug on the coffee table, leaning back with a calm that only irritated him further. “I needed to talk to you,” she said smoothly.
“I don’t care,” he snapped, his tone ice cold. “Leave. Now.”
She stood, taking a step closer to him. “You’ll want to hear this, James.”
He shook his head, already turning toward the door. “I’ve heard enough lies from you. Get out before I have you thrown out.”
But she didn’t move. Instead, she spoke words that stopped him dead in his tracks. “What if I told you that you’re the biological father of our child, James.”
He turned to face her, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “Don’t play games with me, Lilian. You said—”
“I lied,” she interrupted, her voice tinged with desperation. “I said you weren’t the father because I wanted you to let me go. I was tired of struggling, tired of living a life where I felt trapped in poverty. I needed a way out, and that was the only way you’d let me leave.”
James stared at her, his chest heaving with anger. “You think I’ll believe that now? After everything?” His voice was dangerously low. “You’re pathetic.”
Lilian swallowed, her composure slipping for a moment before she forced herself to hold her ground. “If you don’t believe me, we can do a DNA test. Any hospital of your choice.”
James’s jaw tightened, his hands trembling with barely contained rage. “I said I’m not interested.”
Then, out of nowhere, his head began to spin. His vision blurred slightly, and a strange warmth crept through his body. His breath hitched, slow and unsteady while his pulse quickened, pounding harder with every beat. Then he felt heat rush to his groin. 
“What the—” he muttered, his hand flying to his groin. A sickly sweet scent filled the air, making him feel lightheaded. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source.
That’s when he noticed it: a faint trail of smoke curling upward from behind a flower vase on the dining table. Hidden among the decor was a small incense stick, burning slowly and releasing its invisible trap.
Realization dawned, and his eyes widened. That incense was laced with something. Some form of drug? —Aphrodisiac.
Lilian took a step closer, her lips curling into a smirk. She saw the struggle on his face, the flush in his cheeks, the way his breathing grew ragged.
“James,” she said softly, her voice dripping with false concern. “Are you all right?”
He gritted his teeth, taking a shaky step back. “What did you do?”
Her smirk widened, and she trailed her fingers down his arm. “I didn’t want to do this,” she said, feigning regret. “But you left me no choice.”
He stared at her, his mind racing. Even in his drugged state, anger burned through him, giving him brute strength. “Get. Away. From. Me.”
Lilian ignored his warning, her fingers grazing his chest. “Relax,” she purred. “This will only make things easier. For both of us.”
But she underestimated him. Fueled by rage and sheer willpower, James grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away.
“I know your plans, but too bad for you, it's not gonna work.” His voice was a low growl, dangerous and unyielding.
In one swift motion, he lifted her off the ground, ignoring her startled gasp. With long strides, he carried her to the front door, his body trembling from the incense’s effects but he still held on. Lilian struggled with all her might, but James was far too strong, leaving her in shock. Her mother had assured her that the incense would not only arouse him after a few minutes but also weaken him to the point where he couldn't even move, let alone carry her to the door.
He flung the door open and threw her out roughly, ignoring her protests and struggles.
“James, wait!” she screamed, banging her fists against the door as he slammed it shut. “You don’t understand!”
Inside, James leaned against the door, breathing heavily as he fought to clear his mind. The sweet scent still lingered in the air, and his eyes moved towards the incense still burning behind the flower vase. He gritted his teeth, his gaze dropping to the tent in his pants, straining against the fabric as if it might rip right through.