#EXPOSED

CHAPTER - 21

'Philanthropist of the year.'

Kunal

2020

Oh, sweet god. I hated waking up early in the morning. It was such a nuisance.

"What?" I echoed as Arijit took his seat on the breakfast table. "What is it?" I wiped the sleep off of my eyes and trudged towards the breakfast bar where my father was seated.

"It's too early for you to be yelling," Arijit growled and looked at Dad. "Where did you even pick this shit from? He's a waste of..." He glanced over at me. "Everything."

I narrowed my gaze on him. "Ah, the smartest, aren't you?" I took my seat across from him on the table. "It's unimpressive how long it took you to figure that out."

"Enough with the two of you," Dad intervened and Arijit glared at me. "Don't you have a business to tend to?"

I was in awe of my father for finally taking my side for once. In his eyes, I was still the immature kid who was incapable for the world.

"Exactly Arijit," I mocked him and watched his jaw clench. "Aren't you too busy to lock horns with me?" Arijit had issues even if I so much as breathed. He was the only person who made me question my existence.

"Fucking prick." He banged his fist hard enough for the cutleries to rattle on the table. "I'm at least busy doing something, what are you doing?"

"Defending myself from your lunacy, for one," I scoffed and grabbed an avocado from the Elido antique bowl. "Why did you wake me up so fucking early?"

"Language." Dad's reminder was harsh and low, and at the same time, Arijit said, "What do you mean by early? This is the right time to wake up."

"For someone who has to run business," I muttered and stabbed the knife in the fruit. "That ain't me."

His jaw twitched. "So you're planning on doing nothing and sleep for hours straight?" He drank juice from his glass and scowled at me. "Every fucking person in this house is doing something and all you do is simply exist."

"And that bothers you," I chuckled and bit on the avocado. "Come on, be a lad and admit it. You don't want to work but you have to because you're concerned about your social standing and you hate it that I have everything easy for me."

"You're not even my blood to feel anything for you," he bit out and I stopped chewing my food. I refused to show him that his words affected me. I liked to believe that it didn't but it was a lie. I didn't expect my father to intervene this time. He seconded him. "So go ahead and tell me how you have it easy when none of it is yours, to begin with."

I swallowed my food and smirked. "Ah, so that's why you're so pissed? All because you have to work and I still get everything easy when I'm not even your blood." That was a routine I never got used to. "That sure sounds like a load."

He glared at me and averted his gaze on Dad. "Why do we even have him anymore? I understood Mom wanted another kid but we could've had anyone and you chose this worthless piece of shit?"

I glanced at my father's indifference from the corner of my eyes and chuckled. "How else would you gain sympathy and a reputation? I'm a little offended you think you get nothing out of my existence." I curled my lips to mock him. "Take, for example, last night you were so keen on introducing me to those people. Look how good of a man you are, adopting an orphan and taking him under your wing. You're the philanthropist of the year." Or that's what he wanted people to believe around him.

"And he isn't even grateful for the life we provide," he continued to accuse me in front of Dad like a five-year-old. Arijit was a pesky fucker I fancied upon-I pictured breaking his face and that image was indeed priceless.