Stepbrother’s Crime, War Hero’s Tortured Hell Chapter 05

Stepbrother’s Crime, War Hero’s Tortured Hell Chapter 05 Intruder at My Own Wake

That very night, Maddox Manor was decked out in funeral lanterns and somber mourning decor.

The courtyard was decorated with funeral wreaths and black mourning drapes. At the center stood a memorial display, with my name engraved on the plaque.

Lucas stood at the forefront clad in a tailored black suit, his features etched with feigned grief.

Serena linked her arm through his, her eyes glistening with reddened rims as if on the verge of tears.

My grandfather stepped forward with a cane, his hands trembling as he signed the document of my expulsion from the family registry.

My father took the slip of paper, lit it with a match without the faintest flicker of emotion, and watched it burn.

Flames flickered across his face, yet his expression remained utterly blank.

“Silas, for the crime of murdering your own mother and bringing shame upon this family, I hereby strip you of the Maddox name. From this day on, you are no longer one of us, and you will never be welcomed back into this family.”

He delivered the pronouncement in a flat, monotonous tone, as if reciting a routine official brief.

The assembled guests murmured amongst themselves,

“He brought this upon himself. A matricidal monster; even in death he soils the Maddox estate.”

“I heard while Silas was confined in the prisoner camp, he was subjected to unspeakable degradation…”

“Enough, that’s disgusting.”

Lucas heaved a sorrowful sigh and turned toward Serena.

“Serena, Silas has passed away. From now on, I shall take his place and care for you and the child.”

Serena bowed her head, her voice thick with suppressed sobs.

“Lucas, I’m so grateful. If Silas can hear us from beyond the grave, he will surely cherish your kindness.”

The words had barely faded when heavy footsteps echoed from the manor gates.

Every head swiveled toward the entrance.

A man in formal military uniform strode into the courtyard, the colonel’s insignia on his epaulets glinting sharply beneath the lamplight.

His face was flawlessly smooth and unmarred, yet his gaze was frigid and razor-sharp.

Grandfather furrowed his brows sharply.

Who are you?”

I paid him no heed, walking straight toward the memorial display.

I reached out, seized the parchment inscribed Tomb of the Unworthy Scion Silas, and tore it into countless shreds before the entire assembly.

Tiny scraps fluttered down and scattered across the stone courtyard.

A deathly hush fell over the crowd.

I turned to face the sea of familiar yet alien countenances arrayed before me, enunciating each syllable slowly and coldly:

“My name is Dexter.

“Silas sank into the abyss-and now I have returned.

“Your son never died.

“He has come home to attend your funeral.”