Hatred

Few days later

Knoxville stormed into his father's office, his eyes blazing with fury as he took in the scene before him. His father, Mr. Richardo, sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a calm and collected expression on his face. Maxwell sat in one of the leather chairs, a smug look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What's going on here?" Knoxville demanded, his deep voice dripping with hostility as he glared at Maxwell. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw working with suppressed anger.

"Have a seat, Knoxville," Mr. Richardo instructed, his voice firm but measured, gesturing to the empty chair beside Maxwell.

Knoxville's eyes narrowed, his gaze darting between his father and Maxwell. "Why? You know I can't be here with him," he insisted, his voice rising in indignation. "What is he doing here, anyway?"

"Are you saying I can't talk to my two sons at the same time?" Mr. Richardo asked, his voice rising in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up in incredulity.

"You should always differentiate it," Knoxville corrected, his tone biting. "Your legal son and the one your secretary gave you."

Mr. Richardo's expression darkened, his face reddening with anger. "Knoxville, when are you going to be calm and collected like Maxwell?" he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls. "You always seem to be the one with a problem. He's never complaining like you always did."

The room fell silent, the tension between the three men crackling like electricity. Maxwell's calm and collected demeanor seemed to infuriate Knoxville further, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Because I am not a pretender like he is," Knoxville spat, his voice venomous, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Sit down, Knoxville," his father commanded, his voice firm and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Knoxville had no other option but to comply, his movements stiff with resentment. He sat down in the chair, his eyes fixed on the floor, and rubbed his temples, trying to calm down the storm brewing inside him.

Before his father could say anything, Knoxville asked, his voice tight with frustration, "Why did you cancel my trip? I was supposed to go to England for the project."

Mr. Richardo scoffed, a dismissive sound that made Knoxville's anger spike. "I sent someone else to handle it," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "It's my business, after all. I worked for years to gather everything. I know what's best for it."

"Point of correction, it belongs to my mother," Knoxville challenged, his voice low and even, but laced with venom. "Remember, you betrayed her."

Mr. Richardo's expression turned cold, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I think you should stop dreaming, son," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Your mother willingly gave it to me. So, know your place when speaking to me. It's been twenty-five years since I've been taking care of what your late mother left behind."

Knoxville's face twisted in disgust, his eyes blazing with anger. "Willingly?" he repeated, his voice incredulous. "You manipulated her, deceived her, and broke her heart. Don't rewrite history, Father."

The air in the room seemed to thicken, the tension between them palpable. Maxwell shifted uncomfortably in his chair, sensing the escalating conflict. Mr. Richardo's face reddened, his jaw clenched, as he glared at Knoxville.

"Don't question my integrity, boy," Mr. Richardo warned, his voice menacing. "I've built this empire from scratch. You're just a spoiled, ungrateful child."

Knoxville's eyes flashed with fury, his fists clenched, as he struggled to contain his emotions. The old wounds, the betrayal, and the hurt, all resurfaced, threatening to boil over.

"If you think I was spoiled, why did you want me to get married just to hold your company?" Knoxville asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Mr. Richardo's expression shifted, a hint of weariness creeping into his eyes. "I changed my mind," he said, his voice softer. "And that's the reason I called the both of you here."

Knoxville's brow furrowed, confusion etched on his face. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Maxwell leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Yes, Father, what are you talking about?"

Mr. Richardo readjusted himself in his chair, his eyes locking onto his sons. For a moment, he looked vulnerable, his guard dropped.

"I'm done with the hatred between you two," he said, his voice filled with a deep sadness. "I lost your mother, and I think it's time I bring my family together. The animosity, the resentment – it's exhausting. I want us to move forward, as a family."

"So, I want to make it clear to both of you," Mr. Richardo said, his voice firm and resolute. "If you both don't cooperate and work together as one, then no one will take over my company. You both have to start from scratch. And I might not be the one electing the CEO after I step down. The shareholders might be the ones to vote."

He paused, his eyes locked onto his sons.

"So, you both have 50/50 chances," he finalized, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Knoxville's eyes widened in disbelief, his face pale with shock. Maxwell, on the other hand, smirked, a triumphant glint in his eye.

"So, you want to give what belongs to me to him, just the way you chose his mom over mine?" Knoxville's voice rose, his anger boiling over. "The woman was on her deathbed, sick and dying, and you let her die by revealing you had a son outside wedlock. I was only two years older than him. You cheated on my mother while you were still legally married to her!"

Knoxville's words ended in a scream, his fists clenched and his body trembling with rage.

Mr. Richardo's face reddened, his eyes flashing with anger. "You both leave my office! I said leave!" he thundered, slamming his fist on the desk.

Knoxville and Maxwell stood up, their eyes locked in a fierce stare. Then, they turned and walked out of the office, the tension between them palpable.

As they walked out of the office, Maxwell burst into laughter, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Did you realize how you made a fool of yourself?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Did you feel defeated now? Can't you be calculative and strategic, just like me?"

Knoxville scoffed, his expression disdainful. "I don't have anything to say to you," he spat, his voice cold. "I know you always pretend to be a good son in front of him, but I won't stop showing my dislike for what you and your mother made me go through."

He hit his chest, his eyes blazing with emotion, before turning and walking away, leaving Maxwell's laughter echoing behind him.

Maxwell's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But then, his confidence seemed to rebound, and he shrugged, his expression smug once more. "It's only a matter of time," he whispered to himself, "I will maks you cry."