CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

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- ARES SEIDON

•||Flashback||•

Smack.

"Is this the best you could've done!" My father yelled, his hands on his waist as he scowled down at me. "How are you going to make me any money when you can't even use the right codes to hack into that Torrono bastard's files? I gave you everything you need. The books, the gadgets, and everything else. What am I doing wrong here, Atticus? Is his firewall that impenetrable?"

My cheek stings, and I stare at the wall in front of me, numb to the feeling of everything around me.

Then came the whip. One crack resounds in the air and I feel another searing sensation against my back. I could feel them all. Multiple lines and liquid trailing down my back from those wounds.

My mother comes to stand beside me and crouches down to my level with the whip rolled up in her grasp. "We've told you this before, son. We'll make more money than we ever could need. We just need those files. Why is it so difficult for you to obey us!" Her voice raises an exasperated octave.

My narrowed eyes meet hers.

Her honey-brown eyes are faded, and frown lines are displayed on her face. The expressions on her features always seemed rehearsed and practiced. 

Fake.

Like a switch.

Honestly, it was interesting seeing the transitions of her emotions. Sometimes she doesn't even try, her face stays dead, dry of feelings.

Instantly, her creased eyebrows smoothen, and her narrowed eyes are calmer.

She sighs, pulls me up, and sits me down on my father's office leather sofa, a first-aid kid already at her service on the mini round table beside the sofa. "Look. We only do this because we want the best for our kids' lives." She begins to treat my wounds.

My father keeps his distance, leaning against his wooden table, with a thick cigar between his fingers.

"This is merely an incentive for you to try harder. We don't hate you." My father adds. "The next time you leave this office, make sure you re-enter with something beneficial to your family." 

He throws my hoody on the floor in front of me.

"You mean beneficial to you?" I ask, looking at him through the dark hair that fell over my forehead. His face contorts into anger. "Do not glare at me, boy. You and your siblings live a lavish life because of me. Show some gratitude. Do you want another beating?" He takes a couple steps to me.

"Dad, enough." Athena steps in front of me. "He's just a child. My siblings are all young. They don't care about money, Dad. They want love. Besides, you have enough money."

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