Chapter 242

Sir Robert Collins breathed heavily as he turned his head, forcing his gaze towards Patrick. His body was weak, drained of all strength, and he had no energy left to speak-not even enough to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time. Yet despite his frailty, he could not stop the tears that slipped down his cheeks. Never in his long and dignified life would he have imagined that his own son-the boy he had raised, loved, and trusted-would be the one to render him so helpless, to bring him to the edge of death with such quiet cruelty.
Patrick tried to wipe his tears but he turned his head away, unwilling to look at him.
“I had no other option,” he said quietly in a low and strained voice as he looked down at his own hands and continued, “You left me with none. Even when Spencer was ready to kill someone for inheritance, you were unwilling to stop him. How could you do that, Father?
He glanced back at his father, whose face remained still, unreadable, eyes half-closed beneath furrowed brows, letting him know that he was unwilling to look at him.. Patrick’s hands trembled slightly, but he didn’t stop.
“You don’t have to forgive me,” he continued. “I’m not asking for that. I know what I have done is not worthy of it. But I need you to understand… I had to protect what was left.”
His voice cracked from the weight of this burden. He was after all no different from a murderer.
“Yes, Spencer is too far gone and will be suffering for a lifetime. And that’s something I will always regret. But whatever he became, whatever he did, he didn’t do it because he was born like that. He didn’t deserve to be manipulated the way he was. But that was your doing as much as mine. I was the one who failed to protect him from you.”
Sir Robert gave no sign of acknowledgment. His breath was slow but uneven, as if every inhalation carried the weight of decades.
“But Adam and Adir…” Patrick paused. “They still have a future. There’s still something pure there, untouched by everything you broke and everything you tried to break.”
He took a step closer to the bed, his voice sharper now.
“Do you even remember what you did? What you set in motion all those years ago? You lay there wrapped in the illusion of dignity and legacy, pretending as though you were some noble patriarch. But you weren’t. You were greedy. And it cost us everything.”
Sir Robert’s fingers twitched at his side, but he remained still.
“You destroyed Adam’s family before he was even born. First his grandfather- your own brother, then his father. All because you couldn’t bear to lose control. Because you couldn’t stand that she-my mother-might have loved someone else. That someone else might have had a rightful claim to anything you believed was yours.”
Patrick’s tone tightened.
“But now…” Patrick exhaled slowly. “Now everything is back where it should be. It’s taken nearly two generations, but it’s done. And here, I am leaving behind your bloodline and my mother’s bloodline. As for your obsession about a baby between you and her, that part of your bloodline will be extinguished with me and Spencer.
He moved to the foot of the bed, his posture easing slightly, though the tightness in his face remained.
“Adam will take good care of Adir. He’s already quite friendly. He’ll raise him with kindness, with patience. The way he should have been raised. The way you never let us do it.”
He looked down for a moment, searching for words he didn’t want to say.
“He’s stronger than I ever was. And more forgiving than you ever deserved.”
For a long moment, there was no response. Sir Robert’s face remained still. His eyes were shut, his mouth slack. For a moment, Patrick thought he had fallen asleep—or perhaps slipped into something deeper, more final.
Then, quietly, a scoff broke the silence.
Patrick flinched at the sound. His eyes darted up.
Sir Robert’s lips curved ever so slightly, not in a smile, but in something darker. Something bitter. His voice, when it came, was hoarse and slow, barely more than a whisper.
“You think that I was the only one standing in Adam’s way and making things difficult for him? That he would not have trouble after that?”
Patrick stilled at that and blinked, sending a confused look towards his father, “What do you mean?”
Sir Robert kept his eyes closed, but the smile on his face revealed that he could hear the worry in Patrick’s tone. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if drawing strength not from the secret he’d held close.
“As long as I was alive… there were lines that would never be crossed. People who knew better than to make a move. Not because they respected me. Because they feared me. And on the surface, I never tried to attack Adam. You thought that the reason I maintained an amiable facade with Adam was to protect my reputation.”
His hand shifted slightly against the blanket and he let out a sigh,” By taking me out of the picture, you’ve opened the door to other unknown threats…”
Patrick moved closer at this. The smugness in his voice showed me “What are you talking about? Who—who would go after Adam?”
Sir Robert didn’t respond.
Patrick leaned in. “What did you do?”
Still nothing. The faintest twitch at the corner of Sir Robert’s mouth, then silence.
“Tell me,” Patrick demanded, his desperation rising. “If there’s something coming, if there’s someone he needs to know! I need to know!”
But Sir Robert didn’t answer. He simply turned his face slightly to the side, away from Patrick’s voice. His lips parted, as if to speak, but no words followed.
Patrick took a step back, helpless.
“Father…”
Still nothing.
Patrick stared at him, willing some kind of reaction, but Sir Robert Collins had closed his eyes again and this time, it seemed to be final.
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