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The Abandoned Son Draw
Demetrius' body temperature had reached 39 degrees, and the doctor, seeing his condition was not good, recommended that he be hospitalized. Demetrius was experiencing difficulty breathing and was unsteady on his feet. A nurse was present to give him injections. His thin, fleshless hand made it easy to be pin the needle, and she instructed him to bear with it. Demetrius didn't show any signs of pain or discomfort. She asked, "Is anyone coming to visit you?" Demetrius shook his head. "No, I don't think so." The nurse looked concerned. "Are you sure? Sometimes it gets lonely here in the hospital. Do you need me to call your parents?" Demetrius shook his head. "No, that's okay. I'd rather just rest." "Well, if anyone does call or come by, just let me know," the nurse said, smiling. "I'll make sure they don't disturb you." "Thanks," Demetrius said. The nurse gave Demetrius some instructions before leaving. "Even if you turn on the air conditioner, your hands will gradually become co
The Abandoned Son I was a victim
After a few minutes, he sensed someone coming to a halt beside him. Without opening his eyes, Demetrius recognized the presence as that of Finlay. Finlay felt uneasy witnessing Demetrius' unwavering composure. How could he stay so serene? What was his secret? Leaning closer to Demetrius, Finlay whispered, "Demetrius, there's no point in persisting any longer. I forgot to mention that my parents hold great affection for me. They made it clear before bringing you into our home: You were merely taken in to make amends for the time you experienced in your poor conditions, nothing more. There is no genuine bond here. In their hearts, I am their only true son. The Hoffman family's wealth belongs exclusively to me, do you comprehend, Demetrius? So, seize this opportunity to leave the stage, and spare our parents from witnessing any more of your presence. They'll only perceive it as a stain on our family's reputation." "What are you afraid of?" Demetrius interjected, his expression indiff
The Abandoned Son Demetrius was your adopted child
Mrs. Gallagher's face contorted with anger, giving her a somewhat unsettling appearance. Her voice grew sharp and harsh as she spoke. "Finlay doesn't owe you anything! He's innocent! What on earth are you trying to do? What do you want? Today it's Finlay's trophy, tomorrow you want to take everything from him? How can you be so shameless at such a young age? This trophy belongs to Finlay. Give it to me. I didn't bring you back here to make our lives and Finlay's life difficult. Do you have any idea how long he has been preparing for this piano competition? You just stole his trophy." Without a moment's hesitation, she made a beeline for the trophy. The entire scene left everyone stunned, including Mr. Hoffman, who had also been taken aback by the slap but maintained a furrowed brow without uttering a word. Onlookers exiting the audience paused and glanced sideways at the commotion. Soon, a crowd began to gather in the hotel lobby. Osvaldo, hearing the slaps and commotion, he turned
The Abandoned Son Give Finlay the trophy
Demetrius fixed his gaze on the monitor for what seemed like forever before mustering the bravery to send a personal message to the author, pleading to take down the contentious tweet. The reply was immediate, tinged with sarcasm. "Why should I care? You want me to erase it just because you say so?" "I'm directly impacted by this. Can you please remove the tweet? It's causing me distress," Demetrius pleaded, hoping for empathy. "Why do you think you're so important? I'm merely spreading your tale. Isn't it beneficial for people to empathize with you? Can't you see the goodwill?" The author countered, adding a smirking emoji for effect. A wave of frustration washed over Demetrius as his fingers rapidly typed out a response. "I don't need the pity of strangers. Please, just take it down. It would mean a lot to me." "No chance! My follower count is skyrocketing. Why would I delete your post and risk losing all those followers?” The author returned, showing no signs of compromise. Be
The Abandoned Son Rent
"To some extent, yes," replied Doctor Lowe, observing Scarlette's stoic face. He hesitated for a moment before sighing, "The wound was quite severe, with the glass penetrating directly. However, with adequate care, the scar should gradually diminish. Otherwise, we could consider surgery." "No surgery," Scarlette declared immediately. "What are the odds of a prominent scar if we let it heal naturally?" "Roughly 80%," Doctor Lowe estimated. Assuming an innocent look, Doctor Lowe raised his hands and said, "The cut is severe; it would be miraculous if it doesn't scar. How on earth did a car accident happen?" Doctor Lowe was clueless about the true nature of Scarlette and Demetrius' relationship, incorrectly assuming that Scarlette had something to do with Demetrius's accident. "Kareem is looking into it," Scarlette responded, without offering any further explanation. "He..." Doctor Lowe began, seemingly trying to infer their relationship, yet stopping short of voicing his assumption
The Abandoned Son Anxious
Kareem quickly called for a cleaner to come to the house.A team of five professionals arrived and used specialized odor-removing products to thoroughly clean both the inside and outside of the villa, completely getting rid of any unpleasant odors.Compared to previous cleaning experiences, tackling the smell here was much easier. Before leaving, the cleaner even told Scarlette to contact her directly if a similar issue occurred in the future.Only a faint hint of the cleaning agents remained in the villa. Scarlette handed Demetrius a set of clothes, saying, "These clothes must fit for you.”Demetrius graciously accepted them and thanked her before taking a refreshing hot shower.The clothes weren't just slightly oversized; they were loose enough for Demetrius to fit a few more pieces of clothing underneath.After quickly drying his hair and tending to his own clothes, which he left to air dry in the guest room, Demetrius diligently cleaned the bathroom and bedroom before retiring to t
The Abandoned Son I'm not your son
Scarlette remained focused on her task, oblivious to Demetrius' gaze. When she finished the meticulous trimming, she released his bangs, using her hand to tidy them up, and gazed at Demetrius with a soft utterance, "Done." Despite the modest distance between them, Demetrius felt as though Scarlette's smile reverberated near his ear, sending a tingling sensation. He quickly averted his gaze, lowered his head, and gently brushed his bangs with his hand, offering a soft expression of gratitude, "Thank you." "Wait," Scarlette interjected, fixating her gaze on Demetrius' face and inching closer. Demetrius' pupils dilated slightly, his back stiffened, and the calm composure he had regained only moments ago gave way to a racing heart. It was only when Scarlette delicately removed the strand of hair clinging to his lower eyelashes that Demetrius began to relax. The proximity between them wasn't as close as it seemed; his apprehension had gotten the better of him. Lowering his gaze, Demet
The Abandoned Son The parent-teacher meeting
It marked the beginning of his romantic journey. Scarlette appeared to disregard his words and maintained a silence. A hush fell over the surroundings. The car finally halted in front of a restaurant. Demetrius, his eyes closed, teetered on the edge of slumber. He roused only when he sensed the vehicle coming to a stop, unbuckled his seatbelt, and stepped out of the car. The outside air carried a crisp chill. Demetrius zipped up his jacket and trailed behind Scarlette into the restaurant. They settled at a table near the window, immersed in a tranquil ambiance punctuated only by the gentle clinking of utensils. Demetrius resolved not to return to Scarlette's villa and instead opted for an overnight stay at a hotel. As they disembarked from the car, Scarlette called out, "Remember to take your medication." Scarlette handed him a bag. The bag contained an assortment of medicines, triggering a faint crease in Demetrius' brow as he recollected the taste from before. Reminiscing o