Isn't Zara supposed to be your wife?

"Drop that suitcase and head back to your room," Robert, who had turned around at the sound of the flower vase, ordered.

"Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?" Ace fired.

Robert angrily descended the stairs

"Your father. I am your damned father and you young man will listen to every word I say."

While Ace and Robert were bickering, Martha, who was still on the ground, slowly crawled towards them. Both were so engrossed in their argument that they failed to notice her.

Ace laughed out, on hearing Robert call himself his father.

"You are not…"

Ace paused when he felt a jolt of pain in his arm. His knees trembled, as he fell to the ground. He looked down at his arm, only to find a syringe on it. Martha had injected him.

"I hate you," he muttered, then lost consciousness.

"What did you do to him?" Robert asked in panic. He ran over to where Ace lay on the ground and took him into his arms.

"Ace, wake up." He shook him, but Ace lay like a log of wood in his arms. One w