The next morning, I woke up groggy and disoriented, still half asleep, when at some point frantic knocking came from outside.
"Dad, you're terrible. Why haven't you made breakfast for me yet?"
My body felt impossibly heavy. I dragged myself up and realized it was already eight o'clock. Quinn had to leave for school at seven thirty. I used to wake up before six every morning to prepare breakfast and her school things.
I opened the door. Quinn immediately kicked my shin. A seven-year-old already had some strength. The pain made me stumble back, catching myself against the door frame to keep from falling.
"Where's Mom?"
The living room was empty. Her bedroom was empty, too.
Quinn said matter-of-factly, "Mom has to work. Mom's always busy, unlike Dad, who stays home all day doing nothing. You're even too lazy to make breakfast for me."
Sophia Caldwell was genuinely busy. As the top cardiac surgeon at Riverside City's premier hospital, her work left no time for sleep or meals. She completely neglected her child and family.
When Quinn was sick as a toddler, I took her to the doctor alone, running back and forth, exhausted and drenched in sweat. In the end, Quinn recovered, but I got sick instead. When Sophia found out, she said coldly, "Next time, just call the housekeeper."
Those words, the housekeeper, floated out so carelessly. She'd never taken care of our daughter, so of course she didn't understand how terrified parents become when their child is sick. A housekeeper could only handle errands. When it came to caring for our child, how could I possibly feel at ease? Letting a housekeeper do these things — Sophia never understood. She only knew how to blame me for not being resourceful enough.
And now Quinn thought the same way. "Uncle Ethan said it's true. Dad's just a lazy, useless person. Not a good father at all."
Children's thoughtless words cut the deepest. I looked at the child I'd raised with my own hands. She used to wrap her arms around my neck, sweetly calling me Daddy, promising she'd take care of me forever. How did it come to this?
I smiled bitterly. "Quinn, can't you see Dad is sick?"
Only then did Quinn notice how terrible I looked. She frowned, her eyes exactly like Sophia's, cold and distant. No concern, only irritation. "How stupid, getting sick at a time like this. Someone who can't even manage their own health doesn't deserve to be a father."
After that, Quinn left with her backpack. I stood in the doorway, dizzy and disoriented, slowly sliding down against the door frame. The door slammed shut.
I stood there thinking bitterly. Soon enough, I won't be your father anymore.
I swallowed two cold pills, put on a mask, and caught a ride to the office building. My team had been waiting for me.
"Director Rivers, you're finally here. This quarter's flagship design still hasn't been decided. We're waiting for your approval."
I took the designs my assistant handed me. I'd been an art student. After graduation, I joined a fashion company as a designer. A few years later, I started my own fashion brand. It wasn't a major corporation, but it was the culmination of my passion and hard work. I took design quality extremely seriously.
Yet this time, among the submissions, several were shockingly subpar.
I frowned. "Why is the company hiring interns at this level?"
My assistant's expression became uncomfortable. He stammered, "These were drawn by your brother, Ethan Rivers."
Three months ago, Ethan Rivers returned to the country with his son after his divorce. Unable to find suitable work, my parents forced me at the company to give Ethan the position of director. Ethan's skill level — forget director, he didn't even meet intern standards. Naturally, I refused to agree. But I couldn't withstand the entire family taking turns coaxing and threatening me. They even caused scenes at the company. In the end, I had no choice. So I arranged for him to be a designer.
Who knew he'd submit garbage like this?
"Throw all of these out," I told my assistant. "From now on, whatever he submits, just file it away for appearances. Don't bring it in front of me. It hurts my eyes."
Then I pulled out from my bag the designs I'd been refining these past few days. "Take these and discuss them with the design team. See if they're good enough for the flagship collection."
My assistant glanced at them. His eyes lit up immediately. "Director Rivers, you're too modest. These are perfect. Your skill level — everyone can see it clearly."
I dismissed it as flattery and turned back to handle the remaining work.
After the heart transplant surgery, this body would certainly die. After death, the system would give me a new body. This company probably couldn't continue operating. After all, it was years of my life's work. I planned to hand it over to my closest friend. But before that, I wanted to finish the work ahead of me, to stand my final watch.
I worked until two in the afternoon, my stomach churning and growling. Only then did I remember I hadn't eaten all day.
Just as I was about to go get food, my office door burst open.
It was Gabriel Rivers, looking haggard and worn. When he saw me, his eyes sharpened. "Of course, you're here."
Then he strode over in quick steps, barking orders. "Come with me to the hospital."
I didn't move.
The man before me was my biological father. Also the man who'd personally thrown me out of the Rivers family.
Ethan Rivers and I were both sons of the Rivers family. But in our parents' hearts, there was only Ethan. In their eyes, Ethan was the obedient, understanding son, and I was the sinister, wicked one. So when Ethan falsely accused me of theft, no matter how I defended myself, it was useless. Even when Ethan orchestrated my complete public humiliation, even dragging the Rivers family name through the mud, they never once doubted Ethan. They just blamed everything on me.
Back then, he personally stepped forward in front of countless media cameras and declared that the Rivers family had only one son, Ethan Rivers. Jackson Rivers had been expelled from the Rivers family. All his words and actions had nothing to do with the Rivers family.
Everyone laughed at me as pathetic. Cast out by my own family.
And now he appeared before me again. "Ethan's condition has worsened. You need to go donate blood for him."
The office fell deathly silent.
I really wanted to ask: after seven years apart, how did he have the audacity to stand here and say those words?
"What does his life or death have to do with me?"
Gabriel Rivers' face went pale. "He's your biological brother."
I laughed bitterly. "Have you forgotten, Dad? Seven years ago, you threw me out of the Rivers family. I haven't had any relatives for a long time, and I don't have a brother."
Gabriel's face went even paler. Those were his own words from years ago. Now they'd become a boomerang striking him down.
The once proud man bowed his head, pleading. "The doctor said Ethan's heart function is very poor. He's also anemic. Only blood transfusions can sustain him. We still haven't found a donor heart. You have to come back with me for the transfusion."
Seeing him like this only made the ache in my chest worse. I'd never seen Gabriel Rivers beg anyone like this. Ethan Rivers truly was the treasure of his heart.
And it wasn't just him. Sophia Caldwell, even Quinn — didn't they all worship Ethan like some kind of savior?
Thinking of this, my eyes stung. "I'll agree. But I have a condition. I want all of Ethan's company shares."
Gabriel's eyes turned cold. "Jackson, don't be greedy."
"That's the condition. If you don't agree, forget it."
After a long silence, Gabriel finally gave in.