"What did you say?" Trevor's father asked, his face darkened.
"Spare me the theatrics. This isn't about the Crofts." Trevor scoffed. "You've been finding any excuse just to cut ties with me since I'm not your biological son."
His father opened his mouth, but Trevor raised a hand.
"No. You've said enough. I'll leave. But not because of you but because of the pain and suffering you inflicted on me due to me not being your child."
Trevor's gaze was steady, cold.
"You know," he said. "I've been thinking."
They said nothing.
"I wonder what will happen if I decide to go to the media. If I told them everything."
His father's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Trevor took a step forward, voice calm but razor-sharp. "The bruises. The hospital records. The photo I took over the years. The things I've seen in the house. The things I've endured."
Christopher, who was in the room, was confused. "What's he talking about?"
His mother's teacup trembled slightly in her hand.
"I wonder how the public would react." Trevor continued. "To the truth about the perfect family. The respected businessman. The charming socialite."
His father's face darkened. "You wouldn't dare."
Trevor tilted his head. "Wouldn't I?"
He scoffed. "You think I was stupid. Since the first time I overheard your argument that I was adopted, I started taking records of everything. That's what you get when you give a Gen Z a phone."
It was the truth. He had taken records, but due to his inaction, his family had already announced to the media, making it too late for him to get anything. He was then branded as a lover.
He let the silence stretch, then added. "But I'm not unreasonable."
His father narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"
Trevor grinned. "Compensation. Enough to start over. Enough that I never have to see you again."
His mother finally spoke, her voice brittle. "You're blackmailing us."
Trevor gazed coldly at her. "I suggest you shut your mouth. I wasn't speaking to you, bitch."
The words landed like a slap across the room. His mother froze, lips parting, stunned into silence.
"What did you say?!" His father barked. "How dare you talk to your mother like that?!"
"In case you're forgotten." Trevor spat. "She's not my mother anymore and she wasn't even in the first place. No mother will spread her legs for a young boy."
His mother's face paled even more.
"Oh, you think I didn't know? You think I wasn't conscious?" Trevor scoffed. "Since I was nine, you've been coming into the room and masturbating in front of me, thinking I wasn't conscious, since you always drugged me. But I knew everything."
He then turned to his father. "And I know you knew too."
The silence stretched thick and suffocating. His father's face was stone, jaws clenched, eyes narrowed--but behind the mask, Trevor could see the calculation. The man was weighing options, measuring risks, trying to see if his pride was worth the fallout.
Trevor didn't blink.
"I want two million dollars." He said in a calm, deliberate voice. "Transferred to an account of my choosing. No strings.
"His father's eyes flared. "You think you can just demand----"
"I'm not demanding." Trevor cut, raising a hand. "I'm offering you a way out. Quiet. Controlled. No headlines. No scandal. A clean break."
His mother's hand trembled on the edge of the settee, but she said nothing.
"And an apartment," Trevor added. "In my name. Somewhere far from here. I chose the location. You handle the paperwork."
His father stepped forward."What makes you think you're worth that?"
Trevor met his gaze without flinching. "I think the truth is. And I think you know exactly how much damage it could do."
The room fell silent.
His father finally spoke. "You'll have it. But once it's done, you'll disappear."
Trevor nodded. "Gladly."
He turned and walked up the stairs, his steps lighter than the last.
[Ding!]
[Potential victims sighted.]
[Do you accept?]
[Y/N]
Trevor grinned as he walked back to his room. He just wasn't going to end it here. They had to pay for the suffering they inflicted on him.
"Yes"
He opened his former room and closed it behind him. It was almost time for the people who wronged him to suffer.