Micah slumped back against the taxi seat, staring down at his torn, blood-streaked clothes in dismay. The dim glow of passing streetlights cast flickering shadows across his face, revealing the exhaustion in his eyes. It was past midnight, and he was scared of going home in this attire.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. His gaze landed on his ID card. A hotel seemed like a better option. He was past eighteen now.
He didn't want to go somewhere that might recognise him. With a quick search on his phone, he settled on a moderately rated hotel, one not owned by the elite families in the city.
He directed the taxi driver to the location and leaned back, staring at the city lights through the window.
After checking in, Micah locked the hotel room door behind him and let out a slow breath. Walking into the bathroom, His fingers reached up to his eyes, carefully removing the lenses. Wrapping plastic around his bandaged arm and taking off his clothes, he stepped under showers, wincing as the water ran down his body. He washed his hair with one hand, turning his dark hair white again. His mind replayed tonight's events like a broken tape.
He hadn't intended to show himself to them, he had planned to observe them from afar. But fate, or sheer bad luck, had made his presence known to them.
Micah pondered whether he should change his plan and tell his family and Darcy about the mix-up right now or not.
If he confessed now, there were pros and cons to consider.
The pros were that he would be free of this burdensome secret. He could help his biological family openly and bring back the real young master to his rightful place, liberating him from hardship.
The cons were the unpredictability of those four big shots' involvement. What if they connect with Darcy sooner?!
And what if the real young master, Darcy, held grudges against him, unlike in the novel?
If he had to leave the Ramsy family now, who would protect Darcy and his family from those psychos and circling vultures?!
Micah ran a towel through his damp hair, shaking his head.
This wasn't something he could decide tonight.
Flopping onto the bed, he grabbed his phone, checking his missed calls.
Seeing the rows of missed calls and furious text messages from his mum, his head throbbed.
Micah sighed.
Better to call Dad.
The line barely rang twice before the call was answered.
"You! Where the hell have you been?!"
Instead of Jacob, Elina's sharp voice was heard.
"Mum…"
"Don't 'mum' me! Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was when no one could find you at the banquet?!"
Micah rubbed his forehead, already exhausted.
"It was so dull hanging around those old people…"
"Dull?! Hah!" Elina's voice rose a pitch.
"I am sorry, should we have set up a disco in the middle of the ballroom for your entertainment?! You should be thanking God your grandma left before realising you had ditched the party! That humiliating moment!"
Elina scolded her son in one breath.
"They all know me! What did they expect from me?! Waiting on hands and knees for them? The Ramsy's young master has to entertain them? My showing up was to save face for my grandma! Otherwise, I wouldn't even step foot in there!"
Micah said arrogantly.
"You! You… you'd better pray to every God in the world that I don't get my hands on you, or I swear I will skin you alive and feed you to dogs!"
Elina barked in anger.
"Yeah, yeah… you always say that…"
Micah said nonchalantly.
"Eh?! Do you think I am joking?! I will cut off all your credit cards and see how long you last!"
Elina said smugly.
"Mum!" Micah bolted upright.
"You wouldn't abandon your precious son to starvation, would you?! Can you really see me homeless?!"
Micah pleaded mockingly.
"If you want to have all your limbs intact, get your ass back home in this instant."
Elina snapped before hanging up.
Micah stared at the black screen and sighed.
Damn! He was in for it.
Grabbing the hotel phone, he dialled the front desk. "Do you provide clothes in your room services?"
The receptionist hesitated before replying.
"Yes, sir. We don't normally do, but If you pay a sufficient amount, I can send you a staff uniform."
Earlier, when he had seen the handsome boy with torn and bloodied clothes, he thought about lying and saying there were no rooms available, but with one glance at the VIP card, he had changed his mind.
It was evident that this guest was from a rich family.
Micah agreed, thinking everything was better than his clothes.
A few minutes later, Micah changed into black pants and a white shirt and left the hotel.
Arriving at the Ramsy estate, Micah moved cautiously, tiptoeing lightly on the marble floor, looking left and right. The entire house was dark, suggesting even the staff were asleep.
He exhaled in relief, taking slow steps toward the staircase.
Maybe his mother had just been trying to scare him.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Micah jumped upon hearing the voice, his heart leaping to his throat. Turning around, he spotted Elina standing in the shadows, arms crossed, a feather duster tapping ominously against her palm.
"Mum, why are you awake?" he stammered, already taking a step back.
"Why?! These days, I thought you became sensible, so I toned it down, but tonight you showed me clearly I had let you run too wild."
Micah flinched seeing the old feather duster in his mum's hand.
"Where is Dad?!"
He asked, his voice trembling.
"Don't even think that someone would come to rescue you. I forbid anyone to come down."
Elina said, smirking.
"Mum, let's be civilised! We are living in the 21st century, not in the medieval times. There is no need for physical discipline."
Micah said, his gaze fixed on the torture device.
"Oh?" Elina's brow arched.
"I wasn't aware my son had become such a modern thinker. Unfortunately for you, your mother is old-fashioned. I prefer to educate my son in the old good way. If you have a problem, you could complain to child protection, oh wait, you are not a child anymore…"
Elina said, her smirk deepening.
Micah took another step sideways, thinking of how to escape from his mother's beating.
"Son, just be a man and let her beat you a couple of times. Otherwise, her anger will get worse and worse…"
Jacob's voice was heard from upstairs.
"Yeah, little brother. Don't resist… it will backfire."
Aria said in agreement.
Micah's head snapped up. His father was sitting on the stairs, looking completely relaxed. Beside him, Aria and Willow watched the spectacle with glee in their eyes.
"Thanks for the advice! Do you want me to get you melon seeds to munch on?!"
Micah's lips twitched as he said sarcastically.
"Little brother, can't you see we are helping you?! Noch, noch.., these days youngsters are not grateful for their elder's guidance."
Willow said, shaking her head.
"What advice?! Come down and help me instead! Those shallow words can not stop Mum's painful beating!"
Micah said, aggravated.
Suddenly a sharp sting exploded against his buttock.
"Ow… Mum!"
Micah yelled, jumping forward. He spun to see Elina waving the feather duster with a terrifying expression.
Micah didn't wait and bolted.
"Brat! Come back here!"
Elina roared, chasing after Micah.
"Traitors!"
Micah shouted at his father and sisters, who burst into laughter as Elina swung the feather duster with deadly accuracy.