Chapter 1 - The Cold Night Air
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth before I even hit the floor. The shattered glass of Cole’s wedding portrait glinted under the flickering floor lamp, reflecting the grotesque reality of a family that had never truly considered me one of their own.
"Get up," Cole growled, rubbing his knuckles. "And get your trash out of my house."
His house. My parents stood silently as if they were statues in a museum dedicated to my humiliation. Dad slowly turned a page of his newspaper. Mom took a small, delicate sip from her blue ceramic mug.
"Evan," Mom said quietly, her voice devoid of warmth. "You should leave. You always bring this dark energy whenever you come home. Cole is trying to build a life here. You're just... disrupting everything."
I wiped the blood from my chin with the sleeve of my jacket. I looked at Tessa, who smirked, tapping her manicured nails against her folded arms. I looked at Cole, who stood over me with his chest puffed out, breathing heavily like a victorious gladiator who had just defeated a gladiator half his size.
"Is that what you all think?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the sound of the television roaring with sitcom laughter from the living room. "You think I came here to ruin Cole's night?"
"You came here to remind us that you think you're better than us with your fancy design degree," Dad said, finally lowering his paper just enough for his cold blue eyes to meet mine. "You've been a disappointment since you turned eighteen, Evan. Cole stayed. Cole built the family business with me. You walked away."
"I walked away because you told me there was no room for me!" I shouted, the pain in my cheek flaring up.
"Leave, Evan," Mom repeated, turning her back on me to wash her mug in the sink. "Before Cole has to call the police."
I didn't say another word. I didn't grab my coat from the rack. I left the expensive bottle of champagne sitting on the counter, stepped over the shattered glass, and walked out into the freezing Portland rain.
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That night, sleeping in the front seat of my beat-up sedan with a split lip and a frozen heart, I made a silent vow. I would never ask them for anything again. I would build something so vast, so undeniable, that the name Mercer would no longer belong to their small-time residential construction firm.
It would belong to me.
