Chapter 920

The living room was thick with a heavy, suffocating silence. Oscar sat like a ghost, his eyes fixed on Salem, who clung to Hannah as if sensing an invisible predator. The boy’s rejection was clear—he saw in Oscar not a father, but a stranger who brought only tears to his mother’s eyes.

Oscar watched as Hannah fed the boy his birthday milk. He committed every detail to memory: the way Salem’s eyes crinkled, the warmth of Hannah’s maternal gaze, the soft rhythm of their breathing. He knew this was the end, yet his body refused to move. The emotional attachment was a leaden weight, making the "reasonable" choice feel like a slow death.

When Michelle asked if he was staying, the hope in Oscar’s chest was extinguished before he could even breathe. "He’s leaving soon," Hannah said, her voice a sharp blade that cut through his illusions.

Once Salem fell asleep, Hannah offered Oscar a final chance to hold him. It was a gesture of pity, a nod to the blood ties she knew were impossible to truly break. But Oscar shook his head. He knew that if he felt the weight of his son in his arms one last time, he would never find the strength to walk out the door.

"Do you hate me?" Oscar asked suddenly, the words forced from a throat tight with suppressed emotion.

"I used to," Hannah replied honestly.

The past tense was more painful than a current hatred; it signified indifference. The love and the rage had both burned out, leaving only the ashes of what they once were.

"Goodbye, Oscar," she whispered.

"... Goodbye," he murmured back.

As Hannah carried Salem upstairs, Oscar walked into the night. From the balcony, Hannah watched his retreating figure—a tall, lonely silhouette that moved like a walking corpse. She didn't stop the tears that finally came. Whether it was from the relief of his departure or the tragedy of their story, she let the grief wash over her.

The Secret Strategy

Oscar returned to the Capital in the dead of night, but he didn't enter the castle. He sat in his car, a chain-smoker lost in an abyss of silence, while his bodyguards stood watch like sentries. When Theodore called, Oscar’s voice was a hoarse, hollow wreck.

Theodore was shocked to hear Oscar was back so soon. "I thought you'd stay with them. Why are you back?"

"I need you to prepare something," Oscar said, his tone turning cold and professional to mask the pain. "I'm sending Hannah and Salem abroad. In secret. To a safe country."

Theodore was stunned. "Why? She just settled down. She’ll hate you for this."

"I don't want them to take risks with me," Oscar replied. He knew the war with Rowan was escalating, and he knew that his family would be the first targets. To save them, he had to become the villain one last time. He would rather they be safe and hate him in a foreign land than be "together" and in danger.

"For both Hannah and Salem," Oscar added, "I've already been the worst. One more sin won't matter."

Theodore realized then the depth of Oscar’s fear. It wasn't just about Rowan’s strength; it was about the realization that he couldn't protect them while they were within Rowan’s reach. Oscar was stripping himself of everything he loved to ensure he had nothing left to lose when the battle finally began.