Chapter 546 Awful Family

Tilda had once drowned so deep in despair that depression consumed her. It tore away every piece of her strength until all that remained was pain, self-harm, and a mind that crushed itself under endless doubt.

Now, as she gazed at the faces around her, each one so kind and so true, the truth struck her with sudden clarity. She had escaped that nightmare almost a year ago. That year had flown past her like sand slipping through her fingers. Since the day she cut herself free from the Jensons, her life had become brighter, fuller, and filled with a happiness she once thought she would never know.

“Tilda, you could wear anything and still look amazing.”

“Stop buttering her up. Just choose already.”

Laughter spilled into the air. They teased, they shoved, they laughed again as they poured out of the apartment, their joy echoing down the hall. By the time they reached the entrance, Russell and Wade had already been waiting for two long hours. Strangers walked past and whispered, throwing quick glances their way. The two men forced themselves to stand still, pretending they could not hear or see. The cold wind stung their skin, but the sun that draped across their shoulders gave just enough warmth to keep them standing.

At one point, Russell’s body faltered, his balance swaying.

“Dad, are you alright? Do you need to sit?” Wade asked, fear sparking in his voice.

“I… I’m fine. We’ll keep waiting.” Russell waved his hand, bit down hard on his tongue, and clung to the sharp sting to keep himself from falling apart. Kyla’s betrayal and Blair’s wounds had weighed heavy on his mind. Nights without rest had hollowed him out.

His face was drawn and pale. His eyes sank deep behind shadows of purple and blue. His breath caught uneven in his chest. The aura that once marked him as a man of power was gone. As the head of Jenson Group, people had always lowered themselves before him, eager to please, desperate to win his favor. Never had Russell waited on anyone. And never had he waited for the daughter he once cast aside. It was nothing short of cruel fate.

Wade’s sharp eyes cut through the crowd, and then he saw her. Tilda, mingling among the crowd. His heart slammed against his ribs, and the words left him in a rush. “Dad, it’s Tilda. They’re here!”

“Yes…” Russell’s voice trembled, tangled with relief. But when Wade looked closer, his joy turned to stone. A sharp ache ripped through him like a blade.

Tilda stood in the middle of five figures. She held Dane and Mystro by the arms, her smile shining with a happiness that blazed bright and real. It was a smile Wade had never seen when she was trapped in the Jenson house. Back then, her smiles for him had been soft but lined with a quiet plea, a hidden need for approval she never received. Now, her smile was free of chains. It was whole, it was equal, and it was true. The four around her moved in rhythm with her, circling her as if she was the heart of their world. Every glance, every gesture, showered her with affection. They guarded her like something priceless, like they were her real family.

There was no place left for Wade. No space for the Jensons. Not even a single nook or cranny. Then something weird filled his heart. The feeling that rose in his chest was sharp and bitter. It was jealousy. Wade knew that.

Before he could take another breath, Russell stepped forward. Wade hurried after him.

“Tilda!” Russell’s voice cracked the air as he planted himself in her way.

“You.” Tilda’s word sliced cold. Her glare blazed with fury. She had told them she never wanted to see them again. And yet here they stood, clinging to her, dragging their shadows into her light, ruining this day. Her rage spilled out, and Dane and the others caught it. Their stares hardened, cold as steel, and pinned Russell and Wade in place.

These two men were supposed to be her blood. Her brother. Her father. Yet they had been the ones to break her. Under the fire of those eyes, both men felt their power shrivel. Even with all their years of wealth and authority, the weight pressed them down like chains. Their instincts screamed. The people standing with Tilda were not ordinary. Rain, with his white hair and blazing red eyes, radiated danger with every breath. And Mystro. He was the one who had crowned Tilda as world champion in art. The prodigy everyone spoke about with awe.

Why are they walking at her side now, still bounding her like family? Questions stormed in their minds, but no answers would come. This was not the time to ask.

“Russell. Wade.” Tilda’s voice cut sharp as glass. “Today is a holiday. I’m in a good mood now, but I will not let you ruin it. Get out of my way before I lose my patience.” Her fury simmered, barely held back. Dane and the others were the only thread keeping her from unleashing everything she carried.

“Tilda, Blair… your mother is in the hospital. She may never walk again. She might be crippled for the rest of her life! She’s unconscious. Even in her coma she calls out your name. She begs to see you. Please, Tilda. Think of the day she nearly died bringing you into this world. Think of the nineteen years she never stopped searching for you. Come see her, if only for that.”