CHAPTER HUNDRED

RICHARD'S POV

The next morning, after we got home from my Dad's place, I stared at the old mirror hanging in the hallway, my reflection looking back at me. The house was silent, the kind of quiet that presses on your ears and makes you feel alone even when you’re not.

I knew my mother would be in the kitchen, probably nursing a cup of tea, her face lined with worry.

I took a deep breath and walked in.

“Richard,” she said, looking up as I entered. Her eyes were soft but filled with an unspoken plea. “Sit down, please.”

I pulled out a chair and sat across from her, the wooden seat creaking under my weight. “Mom, I know what you’re going to say.”

She sighed, placing her cup gently on the table. “Do you, Richard? Do you really understand what this inheritance fight could do to us?”

I felt a flicker of irritation and clenched my fists under the table.

“Mom, it’s not just about the money. It’s about what’s rightfully mine. Dad wanted us to have our shares, and I’m not going to let my br