Marrying My Father's Enemy
Chapter 64: A Father’s Chaos

Chapter 64: A Father’s Chaos

Chapter 64: A Father’s Chaos

Henry’s fingers gripped the arms tightly as if the force could somehow drain the anger building inside him.

The cigar in his hand had burned out, leaving a thin column of ash dangling precariously.

He slammed it into the ashtray, the force sent embers scattering.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his seemed to be voice low and rough.

The study felt suffocating.

Papers covered in charts and financial projections lay scattered across his desk, mocking him with their grim numbers.

His stocks were falling, his empire was shaking, and his so-called family was tearing itself apart.

"Where did it all go wrong?" he said aloud in a bitter tone.

Liam...

He thought about Liam, his youngest.

Handsome, charismatic—on the surface, the perfect son.

But scratch that surface, and you found arrogance, selfishness, and a complete lack of purpose.

Liam had always acted as though the world owed him something, as though the Blackwood name was enough to hand him everything on a silver platter.

The last time Henry saw him, they’d fought—no, he had fought while Liam had smirked, dismissive as ever.

He remembered the biting words.

"Father," Liam had said, lounging in the drawing room with a glass of whiskey in hand, "you can lecture me all you want, but I don’t need to work. I’m a Blackwood. That’s enough."

"You fool," Henry had snapped, pacing the room. "A name means nothing without power behind it. And power comes from work. My work."

"You’re a relic," Liam had said, draining the whiskey and setting the glass down with a sharp clink. "And when you’re gone, none of this will matter."

That fight had ended with Beatrice stepping in.

"Liam, leave. You’re embarrassing yourself," she’d said, but her eyes had flicked to Henry. She hated that he had other children besides Vanesa.

Beatrice always hated Liam, and his mother too. So when she passed away, Beatrice tried her hardest to get rid of Liam, but she failed.

Now Liam was nowhere to be found, and Henry couldn’t leave the feeling that trouble was brewing.

Vanesa...

And then there was Vanesa. Henry slammed his hand on the desk, rattling the papers and pens.

"Useless," he hissed.

She was spoiled, entitled, and too naive to understand how the real world worked.

No, naive wasn’t the right word—stupid.

She had all the privilege in the world and used it to create messes he had to clean up.

He thought of blood in her nose, the ridiculous lies she spun to cover up her foolishness.

She didn’t understand the consequences, not truly.

"Father," she had said earlier, standing in his office with tears streaming down her face, "you need to help me! Eira’s ruining everything!"

"Stop blaming others for your failures!" he barked. "You’re the one who brought this on yourself. Now deal with it!"

Her face had crumpled, but he hadn’t cared. He was tired of her antics.

Eira...

Henry’s thoughts turned to Eira. She was the one he couldn’t ignore.

The child he never wanted but couldn’t escape.

When she had come back into his life, announcing in front of the whole country that she was his daughter, it had felt like a bomb had gone off.

Beatrice had gone pale, her lips kept froning like she ate something real spicy.

Liam had probably laughed, Vanesa had shrieked, and Henry... Henry had felt his carefully constructed world cracking.

Her return had brought chaos.

Investors pulled their money, stocks plummeted, and the media had a field day with the Blackwood family’s dirty laundry.

Eira hated him, that much was clear. And she was determined to bring him down, no matter the cost.

But what if she wasn’t the only one?

Raiver...

Henry leaned back, rubbing his temples. He hadn’t thought of Raiver in years.

His fourth child.

The boy who had vanished over twenty years ago without a word.

He had been a strange child—quiet, observant, too smart for his own good.

Unlike the others, Raiver had never caused trouble.

He’d stayed in the background, unnoticed. And when he disappeared, Henry hadn’t cared.

But now...

"What if he comes back?" Henry muttered. His throat felt dry. "What if he’s like Eira?"

It wasn’t impossible. Raiver had as much reason to hate him as Eira did.

And if he returned, it wouldn’t just be about revenge. It would be about money.

The money Henry had stolen from his mother.

"Maria..." he let out a long sigh and then one more woman appeared in his mind.

Helen...

Henry’s fists clenched. Helen.

She was the only woman he had ever truly loved.

Soft-spoken, kind, but with a strength that had drawn him in from the moment they met.

She had been his escape, his hope.

And he had betrayed her.

Beatrice had seen to that.

"You’ll leave her," Beatrice had said. "Or I’ll destroy her. Do you understand, Henry?"

She had been rich, powerful, and relentless. Helen stood no chance against her mercilessness.

Henry had folded, too afraid to fight back.

He had married Beatrice, built a life with her, and buried his feelings for Helen as best he could while sending her to jail.

But now, all those old wounds were surfacing again.

Eira was proof of what he had lost. Proof that his love for Helen had never truly died.

"Beatrice..."

Henry’s jaw tightened as he thought about his wife. Beatrice had been beautiful, wealthy, and dangerously in love with him.

At first, it had been flattering. She had fought his battles, eliminated his enemies, and built him into the man he was today.

But her love came at a cost.

She had destroyed her own family for him, leaving a trail of broken relationships in her wake.

And now, she was a part of the shit that surrounded him.

"Beatrice," he muttered, "you’ve ruined everything."

Henry stood abruptly, pacing the room. He thought about his family’s failures pressing down on him.

Liam was gone, Vanesa was spiraling, Eira was a public relations disaster, and Raiver...

He shook his head.

This was Beatrice’s fault.

If she hadn’t blackmailed him, if she hadn’t forced him into this life, everything would be different.

He could have married Helen, lived a simple, happy life.

But instead, he was here. Trapped.

"Damn you, Beatrice!"

He sank back into his chair, staring at the mess on his desk.

His empire was crumbling, and he was running out of time to save it.

And somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if he even wanted to.