A Graduation Gift

His mother was just such an elegant and charming woman, from a good family; she was left with no choice but to go through life
miserably after she met Horace, who thought she would get in his way. Moreover, he decided to leave her even though she was
already carrying his baby. As if that wasn't bad enough, her father even disowned her and drove her out of his home, forcing her
to change her surname.
She lived a solitary life without asking for anybody's help, and then Rufus came along. In the last few years of her life, she had
gotten afflicted with a severe illness brought about by her long periods of hard work and overfatigue. Thereafter, she lost her
consciousness and had been bedridden ever since for the years to come until finally succumbing to her illness and passing
away.
Over those years, Rufus would patiently sit at the bedside of his mother all throughout the afternoon, watching as the dust
drifting through the sunbeams peeking over the window. Of course, his mother, although losing color on her skin, was the spitting
image of the holiest of angel in his eyes if he ever saw one.
But the angel had been forced to plummet straight into hell because she had her wings clipped by Horace, a wretched devilish
man.
Rufus immediately sat up on his bed and pressed down his temples with his fingers. The sight of Horace plunging down in the
daytime was still so fresh in his mind as if it had happened just now.
Horace's originally stocky physique had wilted away little by little. His aspirations, not to mention his spirits, were being drained
bit by bit.
His intelligence had withered as he grew older, and Lionel, on the other hand, the son he chose to focus on and spend so much
effort in cultivating, couldn't even give him the tiniest bit of a sense of security.
In a bout of poetic justice, only the son who had been born out of wedlock, whom he had almost shoved into the depths of hell,
had the power to get him out of the mess he had gotten himself into and preserve the legacy he had built through painstaking
labor all his life.
But how could Rufus let him off so easily just like that?
'Horace, you ain't seen nothing yet. The game is just about to start!
Even if you don't have the strength to get through this, Lionel would still be left standing! Oh, how I would love to see your face
as you watch your favorite son fall to the ground with your very own eyes!' he promised himself.

Cassandra kept tossing and turning all night long and couldn't get some sleep. Her throat felt like it had gotten dry so she
decided to go downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
The second she turned on the lights of the living room, her heart almost burst out of her chest, seeing Clark quietly sitting still on
the living room couch.
He looked so down in the dumps and so deep in thought.
Cassandra forced out a cough as she gasped in surprise.
The sound of it seemed to have brought Clark, who was so out of it just a moment ago, back to his senses. He reflexively sprung
up and shifted his gaze onto Cassandra before he realized how miserable he might have looked through her eyes.
The gloomy look on his face was a sight to behold. It was something so unusual when it came to Clark, but it didn't look like he
was faking it. It was clear as day that he wasn't expecting her to see him at such a vulnerable moment. Because of that, she was
a bit perplexed.
"Cassandra, is there something wrong?"
Without delay, Clark was able to instantly go back to his usual self. The sorrow written all over his face was gone without a trace
and turned into a gentle one, and his eyes were suddenly beaming with tenderness once again.
'There are so many layers to this man!' Cassandra had to hold in a heavy sigh.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just got a little thirsty. That's all. I just came down to grab a glass of water!"
Afterward, Cassandra softly coughed again, pretending to clear her throat before heading straight into the kitchen.
Clark decided to follow her, leaning against the door of the kitchen entrance and watching as she poured a glass with water.
He watched from the surveillance cameras today that Cassandra helped Horace at Rufus's doorstep earlier today. It appeared
like she also stole a glance at the villa in front of the courtyard. However, he had no clue whatever it was that she might have
seen.
'It's quite possible that she had already known who was living next door, ' his thoughts began to run.
"Clark, did you purchase this house right next to Rufus's deliberately?"

Cassandra suddenly blurted and broke the somewhat deafening silence. And her bold question was something just beyond his
expectation.
"I did nothing of that sort. It was purely just by chance,"
Clark wasted no time and denied the accusation. He was good at hiding things and telling lies, so his knee-jerk response was,
for sure, a refutation of that.
Cassandra frowned just a tad bit, because, of course, she wasn't buying any of that.
"I saw Rufus earlier today. He lives right next door. If I'm completely being honest, this has actually been bugging me for quite a
while now, but I won't be holding it back anymore if you don't mind. I've always known where he lives, but I try to avoid him for
my mother's sake."
Cassandra then proceeded to sip some water to moisten up her throat.
"It's just a coincidence, Cassandra. I swear. You're just overthinking things."
Clark still managed to be nonchalant about it, smiling as though Rufus's living next door had nothing to do with him at all.
Cassandra knew full well that she'd only be wasting her breath if she tried to pry into it any further. As expected, there was no
way in hell Clark would ever admit it.
"Clark, I remember you mentioning your father once before. He has never been much of a father figure to you, hasn't he? Let
alone, as the man of the house in your family,"
she blatantly asked, with her thoughts somewhat drifting toward Rufus's father, Horace. In that aspect, Rufus and Clark seemed
to have shared something in common.
Clark's expression changed drastically upon hearing her query. Displeasure and disgust were raging deep in his eyes.
"My father, you say? That asshole isn't worthy of being called a father!" he roared furiously.
That was surprising. Both of them, Clark and Rufus, really did share the same sentiment regarding their respective fathers.