Building The Strongest Family-Chapter 191: Bleeding Gold

The Osborn Estate’s gardens glimmered under the silver glow of midnight, the air thick with the intoxicating scent of jasmine and damp earth.

Fireflies flitted between the hedges like tiny stars come to life.

Billy had been wandering alone for nearly an hour, his mind a tempest of frustration and doubt.

Sophia’s words echoed in his thoughts:

"You don’t owe them your life."

But it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was with the Osborns.

A voice sliced through the stillness, smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath. "You always come here when you’re avoiding something."

Billy didn’t turn; he recognized that voice better than his own. "Maybe I just like the night air," he muttered, trying to mask his inner turmoil.

Arthur stepped into view, his black suit merging with the shadows, moonlight carving sharp angles across his face.

He held two glasses of bourbon, one extended toward Billy.

"Liar."

Billy took the glass, their fingers brushing against each other, cold as ice.

They drank in silence for a moment, an unspoken weight pressing heavily between them.

"You’ve been distant since we came back from dinner," Arthur said lightly, but there was an edge to his tone.

Billy swirled the bourbon in his glass, watching it cling to the sides like memories refusing to fade away. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"The future," Billy replied evasively.

Arthur’s gaze sharpened like a knife’s edge. "Yours? Or the family’s?"

Billy tightened his grip on the glass. "Is there really a difference?"

Arthur’s smile was razor-sharp. "That’s the question, isn’t it?"

They reached the heart of the garden, a marble fountain where water ran dark under the moonlight’s gaze. Arthur leaned against its edge, eyes locked onto Billy’s face.

"That Sophia girl has been whispering in your ear."

Billy stiffened at this accusation. "She just listens, unlike everyone else." freewёbnoνel-com

Arthur exhaled slowly, controlled yet heavy with frustration. "You think I don’t know what you want? To run off and play house? To pretend that being an Osborn doesn’t come with chains?"

The words struck him hard; Billy clenched his jaw tightly. "It’s not about pretending, it’s about having a choice."

Arthur set down his glass deliberately, each movement laced with gravity. "Choice is a luxury we can’t afford right now."

"Why?" Billy’s voice cracked under pressure. "Because you said so?"

Arthur’s expression darkened ominously. "Because a year ago... remember? This family was bleeding."

Arthur reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded document, tossing it casually at Billy. "Read it," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Billy unfolded the paper, his heart sinking as he scanned the contents. Financial reports. Debts circled in red like warning signs.

A graph depicting the Osborn Group’s stock plummeting like a stone, this was not just bad news; it was catastrophic.

"This..." Billy stammered, his hands trembling. "This was us?" He had known they were in deep trouble and teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, but he never imagined it was this dire.

Arthur let out a hollow laugh that echoed with bitterness. "After Mother and Father died, the vultures descended. The banks came calling for their loans. Partners abandoned ship. We were one vote away from losing our name entirely."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper that felt heavy with unspoken pain. "And you want to talk about dreams?"

Billy’s throat tightened painfully. "You never told me."

"Because it wasn’t your burden," Arthur snapped back, frustration bubbling over. "Nobody wanted to disturb you while you were finishing up university."

With a sigh of exasperation, Arthur ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of vulnerability for him. "Do you know what kept us afloat?"

He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing,

"Uncle Marcus sold his watches and precious paintings; Aunt Evelyn liquidated her jewelry collection; even 13-year-old Liz used her trust fund to pay off suppliers! Everyone sacrificed something."

His voice cracked under the weight of emotion as he added, "Not one of them hesitated."

Billy felt a lump form in his throat as memories flooded back, Liz crying that night and insisting it was "just money." At the time, he hadn’t understood why she was so upset.

But now? Now he got it.

Arthur turned back to him, eyes blazing with intensity. "This family broke itself to survive! And now that we’re finally standing again, you want to walk away? Because someone is filling your head with nonsense!"

Billy flinched at the accusation. "I didn’t..."

"You did," Arthur interrupted sharply. "Every time you skip meetings to paint or let Sophia fill your head with ideas of ’freedom.’"

His voice softened but carried an undeniable weight: "Freedom isn’t free, Billy. Someone always pays."

The sound of water trickling from the fountain between them filled the silence, a stark reminder of their strained relationship.

Arthur exhaled deeply, shoulders sagging under an invisible load. "I’m not asking for forever,just... not right now."

For the first time, Billy really looked at his brother and saw the shadows lurking beneath his eyes, the immense weight he carried alone.

"How long?" Billy whispered cautiously.

Arthur didn’t blink. "Two years. Give me two years to cement our position. Then you can do whatever the hell you want."

The words hung between them, a lifeline and a prison sentence.

Billy closed his eyes. "And if I say no?"

Arthur’s voice broke,"Then I lose you too."

A while later Billy opened his eyes and said slowly, " I will think about it".

With that Billy walked away, the moonlight casting a warm glow over him, a moment later he was already out of site.

Arthur stood there in silence, his hand in his pockets as he slowly sipped his wine,his expression unreadable.

He just stood there, rasing his head,he looked at the silvery round moon hanging high in the sky surrounded by dense twinkling stars.

After a while, Arthur came back to his senses and gulped the remaining wine and walked away,his figure casting a long shadow on the ground.

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