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3rd Person’s POV

The room was filled with the sharp scent of burnt paper mixed with the heavy sweetness of spilled scotch, closing in around the two men as the delicate bond between father and son finally broke.

Adrien’s fist throbbed from where it had connected with Keith’s jaw; the pain was grounding in the emotional storm swirling inside him.

Keith was on the other side of the massive oak desk, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but the twisted smile on his face showed no sign of defeat...just a perverse pride that made Adrien’s stomach turn.

"I suppose when you get older and end up taking over the company, you’ll understand my actions," Keith had said, and those words echoed in Adrien’s mind, igniting the rage that had been building for years.

Adrien’s vision narrowed, the edges blurring into a red haze fueled by grief and betrayal so deep it felt like it might swallow him whole. He lunged forward without hesitation, vaulting over the desk in a surge of wild fury.

Papers flew into the air like frightened birds, the crystal decanter tipped and then shattered on the floor in a glittering burst of glass and amber liquid. Keith tried to dodge, but Adrien’s momentum brought them both crashing down into a tangled heap, the thick Persian rug beneath them hardly softening the blow.

They hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through Adrien’s bones, yet he barely noticed. His hands gripped Keith’s collar, fingers digging into the fine fabric of his shirt as he pushed his father backward.

Keith’s head thudded against the floor with a dull thump, but he rebounded quickly; years of suppressed ruthlessness surged forth. He bucked up, slamming an elbow into Adrien’s ribs, forcing a sharp grunt from his throat. The pain flared bright and hot but only fueled his fury, sharpening it into something primal and relentless.

"You killed her!" Adrien yelled, his voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears, every memory of his mother’s gentle smile now tainted by the truth. He shifted his weight to pin Keith down more securely, one knee pressing into his father’s side to keep him there. "You took everything from us...from me!"

Keith let out a breathless laugh, a wheezing, mocking sound that grated against Adrien’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"And you think this changes anything, boy? You think your little tantrum will bring her back?" His hands clawed at Adrien’s arms, nails digging into his skin as he struggled to free himself.

The fight turned messy and desperate, limbs flailing, bodies rolling across the rug in a chaotic whirl of expensive clothes and simmering rage.

A lamp on a side table toppled and shattered, plunging one corner of the study into deeper shadow, the fire in the hearth the only steady light casting long, writhing shadows against the walls lined with leather-bound books that had kept secrets for decades.

Adrien tightened his grip around Keith’s throat, thumbs pressing against the steady pulse he felt there. He could feel the life thrumming under his hands, the same blood that ran through his own veins, and in that blazing moment, he wanted nothing more than to squeeze until that rhythm faltered.

Grief clouded his mind, drowning out reason, drowning out the part of him that screamed this was his father—no matter how monstrous he had become.

"You don’t get to live with it," Adrien hissed through gritted teeth, his arms trembling as he held Keith down while the older man thrashed. "Not after what you did to her. To all of us!"

Keith’s face began to redden, veins bulging at his temples, but his cold, calculating eyes never lost their gleam of defiance. He gasped for air, one hand clawing at Adrien’s wrist while the other fumbled towards his trouser pocket.

"Carlby!" he rasped, the name bursting from his lips in a choked shout that echoed off the high ceiling. "Carlby, get in here. Now!"

The door to the study flew open with a loud bang, and Mr. Carlby, always lurking in the background of family gatherings like a shadow, rushed in. His face was flushed, eyes wide with shock as he took in the chaotic scene: father and son locked in a violent struggle on the floor, the air heavy with the scent of violence and spilled liquor.

Without hesitation, Carlby strode across the room in three long steps, his strong hands gripping Adrien’s shoulders from behind.

"Enough!" Carlby growled, his voice deep and commanding as he pulled back with surprising strength for a man of his age.

Adrien resisted, muscles straining, a guttural sound of pure frustration ripping from his chest as he was yanked away from Keith. His fingers slipped from his father’s throat, leaving angry red marks that Keith gingerly touched as he sat up, coughing and drawing in ragged breaths.

Adrien fought against Carlby’s firm grip, twisting and bucking like a wild animal caught in a trap.

"Let me go! You’re part of this too, aren’t you? All of you...covering for him, lying to me for years!" His voice rose, raw with the force of years of repressed doubt finally breaking free. He could feel Carlby’s breath hot against his ear, the man’s arms locked around him in a restraining hold that pinned his arms to his sides. "You knew! You all knew what he did to my mother! You helped him do it!"

Keith was slowly pushing himself to his feet, brushing off his disheveled shirt with deliberate calm, although his chest still heaved and the mark of Adrien’s hands lingered on his neck like a brand.

He straightened to his full height, the villainous mask firmly back in place, eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of triumph and contempt. The firelight danced across his features, highlighting the swelling bruise on his cheek and the thin trail of blood at his lip.

"Like I said, you’ll understand one day, Adrien," Keith said, his voice starting low and rising with each word until it filled the study like a sermon from a dark pulpit. "You’ll grow up...really grow up, and see that I had no choice. Your mother was going to ruin everything we’d built. She discovered the affair with Helen, and she was ready to take it all, the vineyards, the money, the empire I dedicated my life to expanding. Killing her... it was necessary. A mercy, really, in its own way. She would have dragged us all down with her paranoia and her threats."