The room was silent except for the ticking of the wall clock. Lin Cohen stood there, forcing a polite smile while a flicker of resentment flashed through his eyes—gone in an instant. He knew better than to expose his true emotions, not yet. There would be time for revenge when he held complete control over the Lyn family.
On the other side, Joy Fang looked at Yang Mo in disbelief. The boy she had always perceived as timid, obedient, and soft-spoken now stood before her with an aura of defiance, his words sharp as knives.
"Shao Mo, how can you speak to your brother like that? He came all this way to bring you home. You're both my sons, don't treat each other this way! You're breaking your mother's heart!" she pleaded, her voice laced with desperation.
Yang Mo scoffed, his expression cold and indifferent. "Brother?" he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, you mean the same 'brother' who locked me in a room and starved me half to death in my previous life? The one who's been whispering poison into your ears all these years? If I go back, I might as well dig my own grave."
Joy Fang's breath hitched, her heart aching at the venom in his words. Had it come to this? Had her own son, the one she had given birth to, stopped seeing her as his mother?
"Yang Mo, you've misunderstood. I came here today because I remembered it was your birthday. I wanted to celebrate with you," she said, her voice wavering.
Yang Mo's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a bitter smirk. "Oh? You came for my birthday? Then tell me, Mother—where's my gift?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Joy Fang hesitated, realizing in that moment that she had brought nothing. She had rushed over without a second thought, her only intention being to convince him to return. The truth burned in her chest, and she stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse.
Yang Mo chuckled humorlessly. "You forgot, didn't you? I shouldn't be surprised. I wouldn't have expected you to remember, not when you were busy preparing for Lin Cohen's extravagant celebration."
His gaze dropped to Lin Cohen's wrist, where an exquisite, limited-edition Patek Philippe watch adorned with emerald diamonds gleamed under the light. A watch that cost nearly ten million dollars. He had heard Lin Cohen talk about it endlessly before, pestering their mother until she promised it as a birthday gift.
"This watch—" Yang Mo pointed at it. "Was this my birthday gift? Or his?"
Lin Cohen's fingers instinctively tightened around the timepiece. He knew he had to act fast. He plastered on a remorseful expression, stepping forward. "Brother Yang Mo, don't be mad. If you want this watch, I'll give it to you. Anything to have you back home," he said dramatically, reaching for the clasp as if to remove it.
Joy Fang's eyes widened. "Little Cohen! How can you say that? This is the watch you've wanted for so long!" she said, immediately defending him. "Xiao Mo, if you come back with me, I'll buy you the same one, okay?" she offered, a hopeful smile on her lips.
Yang Mo stared at her, his heart growing colder by the second. Even now, even when standing right in front of her, her first instinct was to protect Lin Cohen's interests. Was there anything else left to expect from this woman?
"No. I don't want anything from you. Take your precious son and leave. Don't come back here again," he said, voice devoid of warmth. "Next time, I'll call the police."
With that, he slammed the door shut in their faces.
Outside, Joy Fang's heart pounded against her ribs. She had thought he would soften. She had thought she could persuade him. But the boy she once knew was gone. "Yang Mo! Open the door!" she pleaded, slamming her palm against the wood. "Please, don't be like this! I was wrong!"
But there was no response.
Lin Cohen stood beside her, watching her desperate attempts with amusement hidden beneath a veil of concern. Inside, he was elated. Yang Mo would never come back now. His position was secured. The Lyn family was his for the taking.
A smirk tugged at his lips, but he quickly wiped it away when Joy Fang turned toward him, her face filled with worry.
"Little Cohen..." she whispered, suddenly noticing something. "Why are you smiling?"
Lin Cohen's breath caught in his throat. Had she seen through him? He scrambled for an excuse. "No, no, Mother. I just thought of something. Second Sister—she always had a way with Yang Mo. Maybe we should ask her to help persuade him?"
Joy Fang's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "Yes... yes! Ran has always been the one he listened to the most. Maybe she can convince him!"
Lin Cohen let out a silent sigh of relief. He had dodged suspicion yet again. But what she didn't know was that their Second Sister, Lin Ruan, hated Yang Mo the most. She used to order him around like a servant, making him do all the chores while she reaped the benefits of his labor. If she went, she wouldn't convince Yang Mo to return—she'd drive him further away.
Back at the Lyn family estate, Joy Fang immediately sought out Lin Ruan. Before she could speak, Lin Ruan's gaze locked onto Lin Cohen, her expression unreadable.
"Little Cohen," she said, her tone unnervingly calm. "I have a question for you."
Lin Cohen stiffened. "Of course, Second Sister. What is it?"
Lin Ruan stepped closer, her sharp eyes narrowing. "A few years ago, when Big Sister fell into the river... was it really you who saved her?"
The room fell into dead silence.
Lin Cohen felt his palms grow clammy. His mind raced. "S-second Sister, of course it was me! Why would you even ask that?" he stammered, trying to maintain his usual innocent facade.
But his hands, twitching and restless, betrayed him.
For the first time in his life, Lin Cohen felt cornered.