y at the center of it all, a sprawling testament to wealth and influence. The estate's facade was adorned with intricate stonework and lavish gardens, where vibrant blooms fought for attentio

reigned supreme, where every

ed across the room, set with the finest china, gleaming silverware, and crystal glassware that caught the light just so. Yet, despite the beauty surrounding him, Ethan Gray found himself trapped in a familiar cycle o

perate for a nod of recognition or a word of praise. Instead, he often faced indifference, the kind of dismissal that left deep scars on his soul. Reginald, a powerful mogul in the cor

is mouth. He could feel his father's gaze on him, evaluating, judging, and he fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of that scrutiny. Memories flooded his mind-the moments when he had attempted to impress Reginald, to win his favor

undings. She balanced a tray laden with two bottles of wine and a golden cup, her movements graceful yet efficient. With a soft clink, she placed the bottles on the

he left the room, the silence descended once more, heavier than before. Ethan couldn't help but feel that the wine

ruptly, a decision made in an instant. "I have to go," he declared, his voice steady, though the urge to flee was almost overwhelming. He perfo

and commanding. "Ethan." The single word hung heavily in the space between them, and Ethan's h

table, the sound of the bag hitting the floor echoing his internal struggle. Sitting down again felt like a defeat, yet he forced himself

of the impact reverberated through him, the sting sharper than any physical pain he had experienced before. It was

left sitting there, the shock slowly giving way to a maelstrom of emotions-anger, humiliation, and an all-too-familiar sense of worthless

al action; it was a culmination of years of seeking approval and receiving nothing but disdain. Reginald's authority loomed large, a shadow that stretched over every aspe

as he gathered his things. He had learned that there was power in walking away, even if it felt like a hollow victory. He picked

ight, a sleek embodiment of the freedom he craved. He climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life beneath him, a powerful reminder of the control he still

vibrant chaos of the city. Each turn brought him closer to a world that felt more authentic, a world where he could carve out his own identity, free from the weight of Reginald's expectations. The