The Memory Keeper: Twisted Roots

Chapter 5: To Give One's All

Khai swallowed hard, looking away as doubt flickered across her face. But Lucious pressed on, his voice dripping with reassurance.

Lucious:
"You think you're protecting her by staying away, and you're right. She deserves better than a life full of danger and deception. The moment you let personal feelings cloud your judgment is the moment you lose everything."

Khai closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily.

Khai:
"I know. I just... I miss her."

Lucious:
(Standing and walking around the desk, placing a firm hand on her shoulder)
"Missing her is one thing, but holding onto her? That's a weakness you can't afford, Khai. Stay strong. Stay focused. Rain will move on... and so will you."

Khai swallowed back the lump in her throat, nodding. She told herself Lucious was right, even though every part of her screamed otherwise.

Khai:
"I need to get back to work."

Lucious watched her leave, a satisfied smirk curling on his lips. He had planted the seed, and soon enough, it would grow into exactly what he wanted—Khai consumed by vengeance, with no room left for anything else.

His thoughts drifted back, and like a flicker of a distant flame, a memory flashed before him-one from years ago, when fate had first turned in his favor.

Flashback:

The room was dimly lit, the only sound in the air the soft ticking of an antique clock. Lucan stood rigidly in front of his father's desk, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and his voice shook with a mixture of anger and heartbreak.

"Dad, Victoria was pregnant with another man!" Lucan shouted, his eyes brimming with tears. His hands trembled as he tried to control the overwhelming surge of emotion. "And she's not just pregnant with another man-it's not just another man, Dad-it was Frederick!!"

Lucious didn't flinch. His gaze remained steady as he watched his son unravel before him, the raw pain in Lucan's voice like a bitter reminder of the fractures in their family. Lucious, however, had never been one to let emotions rule him. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly, assessing the situation with the cool detachment he was known for.

"Son, listen," Lucious began, his voice calm but firm. He rose from his chair, taking a slow, deliberate step toward Lucan. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Pull up your shit together." He placed a hand on Lucan's shoulder, the weight of his touch almost suffocating. "You know as well as I do that you're not the perfect husband yourself. What about Barbara, huh? What about your own infidelities?"

The words struck Lucan like a slap in the face, but it was the truth, and he knew it. He looked away for a moment, swallowing hard, trying to calm his racing heart.

"C'mon, Lucan," Lucious continued, his voice softening just enough to lure Lucan back into the conversation. "You're better than this. Get your shit together. You need to use this as leverage. Leverage against Frederick."

Lucan stared at him, confusion evident in his features. "Leverage?"

Lucious sighed, a look of irritation flickering across his face. "You'll never get it, will you?" His voice dropped to a low growl. "For Christ's sake, Lucan, for once, use your damn head!"

Lucan was too dazed by his emotions to fully process his father's words. "What do you mean?" he asked, the weight of betrayal still fresh in his mind.

Lucious leaned in, his face a mask of calculating coldness. "Claim the child of Victoria as your own," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If Frederick's the father, fine, but you will declare the child yours-legally. You'll make sure of it."

Lucan's mind raced as the implications of his father's words settled in. He couldn't wrap his head around it. "But... what about Barbara?" he asked, his voice weak. "The true Stanton heir is Barbara's."

Lucious scoffed, a sneer curling his lips. "Fuck, Lucan, you're not using your head!" He paced in front of his son, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. "Do whatever it takes. Declare them as twins, if you have to. Pull some strings, manipulate the situation. Use every connection you've got. You'll make it work." He stopped, turning sharply to face Lucan. "And if you need to make an arrangement with Barbara, then you do it. She needs to keep her mouth shut, or else."

Lucan looked at his father in disbelief, his heart sinking with each word. "Or else what, Dad?"

Lucious' eyes darkened, his gaze hardening like steel. "Or else her father might end up like John."

The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, the weight of it suffocating. Lucan felt his blood run cold at the mention of John Whitmore-his biological grandfather, the man who had been ruthlessly taken out in the name of power. He swallowed hard, unable to speak, but understanding the sinister implications of his father's words.

Lucious moved closer, his voice a razor-sharp whisper. "You can't afford weakness, Lucan. You need to take control. This child? It's your weapon. Don't let it slip through your fingers. Do you understand?"

Lucan stood still, the realization dawning on him that there was no room for mercy in this world. No room for hesitation. His own pain seemed insignificant compared to the weight of what his father was asking him to do. It was a cold, calculated move-one that would forever change the course of his life.

Lucan nodded slowly, his voice barely audible. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Lucious smiled, a cold, calculating smile. "Good. Because you'll never get anywhere in this world without making hard decisions. And it's about time you started making the right ones."

As Lucan left the room that night, his mind raced with the reality of what he was about to do. His heart felt like stone, and every step he took seemed to echo with the weight of the decision that now lay heavy on his shoulders.

The Stantons' legacy would survive. At any cost.

Lucious' POV

I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. I had built her, piece by piece, into the woman she had become. Strong, ruthless, and resolute—she was the perfect heir to the Stanton empire. A world I had constructed with my bare hands, brick by brick, until it had become something unshakable, unbreakable.

The empire was a delicate beast, always hungry for more, always demanding more. To keep it standing tall and to expand its reach, sacrifices were inevitable. It was like an ancient tree, its roots buried deep in the ground, holding fast even as its branches reached further and further into the sky. But to grow, to truly grow, it had to shed its leaves and branches when the storms came, discarding the weak in favor of the strong.

And so, I had sacrificed. I had sacrificed my humanity, my family, even my own blood. But in the end, what else could I have done? A man like me doesn't have the luxury of regrets.

Khai would understand, in time. She was ready, but the world was cruel, and it would demand its price. I had given her the tools to survive, but only time would tell if she could truly claim what was hers.

I had never been wrong in raising Khai as the heir to the Stanton legacy. For this empire, I had sacrificed it all—family, love, even the semblance of peace.

To keep an empire standing, one must be willing to pay the price, no matter how steep. It is a game of power, of manipulation, of survival. And in the end, only the strongest thrive.