The Heiress Return Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call by Night Eleven

SERA

“If I die tomorrow, will you cry for me?”

The question slipped from Reggie Blackwood's mouth, accompanied by a lopsided smile that did not reflect the weakness of his body. Even with a pale face and frequently interrupted breathing, the old man still carried an aura of power.

Sitting opposite him, I was transfixed. My hand holding the teacup suddenly felt too heavy, and silence crept into the room like fog.

“Of course I'll drink champagne with your corpse,” I said after sipping the tea, trying to cover up my anxiety with a joke.

A crisp laugh escaped the 66-year-old's lips. “Good idea,” he commented. “Who else are you going to drink with anyway?”

I finally let out a long sigh, feeling tired. “You're being overly dramatic, Reggie. Your health is already much better. The doctor said—”

“That pretentious man just wants me to survive longer.”

“That's what a doctor does, isn't it?” I did not expect there to be a tremor in my voice, even though I wanted to sound cynical.

“Sera, I'm serious. I didn't call you in between your busy schedule to talk about my health.”

I made no further comment, just looked at him silently. For some reason the turtleneck I was wearing began to feel so suffocating and itchy.

“Why didn't you ever ask me why I adopted you?” asked Reggie. The topic that we had not spoken about for years was suddenly brought up. And that meant, I knew that our conversation was really going to get serious. And this was about our relationship, not business or anything like that.

“Because I couldn't question your decision in the first place,” I replied, not entirely lying.

“But do you ever wonder?”

Yes, often. On certain nights over the past 16 years, I would think about it. And more often than not, it was in the form of my gratitude. “I told myself that it was because I'm pretty and the smartest one in that place.”

Reggie laughed. “Well, that's not wrong.” He took a deep breath, then leaned forward. “But another reason is that it's as my penance. On the other hand, I know you are indeed suitable for the Blackwood family.”

“Penance?” I never thought that would be the answer to my question from those few nights.

“There's so much I could forget but that four people.”

“You killed four people?” I snapped, which made Reggie laugh again.

“No, silly. I mean, there are four men out there who have my blood running through their bodies. Four men who don't even know each other—and have never met me until the past few days. They are my sons, Sera. The sons of four different women.”

“You're joking, right?”

“I don't even take million-dollar business decisions this seriously.” Reggie leaned back in his chair, exhaustion evident on his face. “And they're coming here. I've called them all, and you'll meet them at dinner tonight.”