Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 343

From this moment on, he owed the old man nothing—not a shred of gratitude. When the old man was gone, there would be no reason to go easy on Marcus. Whatever happened now, the old man had brought it on himself.

Easton glanced at Tyrone, eyes clouded with meaning. He almost pitied the man—Tyrone deserved so much more. As Easton entered the hospital room, he found Marcus, wild-eyed, rushing to the bedside and fumbling to pull off the oxygen mask.

“Dad, talk to the lawyer! Quick, make your will! Weren’t you going to leave your estate to me?” Marcus’s voice was shrill with desperation.

Easton watched him with a look of total disdain, struggling to believe that someone this foolish could share his blood.

The old man’s gaze was conflicted as he looked at Marcus, but soon drifted to the doorway. Maybe—just maybe—he was waiting for Tyrone. After all, Tyrone was his real grandson, the one he’d raised all those years.

“Maddox, please, don’t do anything foolish,” Reginald pleaded gently, squeezing Maddox’s hand.

But Maddox’s eyes remained fixed on the door. No matter how much Marcus begged or shouted, the old man barely responded.

“Tyrone…” Maddox rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper.

At the end of his life, it was Tyrone’s name he called.

Reginald heard him and turned urgently to the butler. “Bring Tyrone in. Now.”

“Tyrone’s here—he’s right outside,” Reginald tried to reassure him.

But even after the butler left, Tyrone didn’t come in. He just stood on the other side of the door.

Tears slipped from the old man’s eyes. He knew—Tyrone resented him. Hated him, even. And he had no one to blame but himself.

“Dad, why do you still want to see him at a time like this?” Marcus protested, his impatience growing. “Just write your will already! Leave everything to me!”

Reginald and the staff glared at Marcus in outrage. All he cared about was the money; there wasn’t an ounce of love for his father in him.

But Maddox’s eyes never left the door. He was still hoping Tyrone would come in, if only for a final goodbye.

“The will…” Maddox’s voice was fading, thin as smoke.

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