The Dying King

AIDEN

Coming home whenever my father needed us to pretend that the Harts were a perfect and loving family was one of the things I hated the most. Since the news about my father's condition leaked out to the press, the gate outside the residence was crowded with reporters. I hated the fact that my father lied about his condition. Was I the only one who didn't know? Had he shared this sensitive knowledge with Ceasar and Christopher? Rage filled my veins with liquid fire, and I spent a decent amount of time debating whether I could handle being a part of this family masquerade. Finally, sentiments had won.

I couldn't recall the last time I sat in my office in our family mansion, but here I was, working on my laptop while hearing my mother's raised voice coming from the corridor. My patience flew out the window in less than a second, and before I could evaluate the situation, I slammed the door open and barged outside. As soon as I did, I saw Mother spitting venom at the poor, obviously f