HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 975

Brandon walked to his seat. But before sitting down, he placed the black urn adorned with gold engravings, which he had been carrying all this time, in the very center of the dining table.

Gently, without making much noise. Even so, it immediately drew everyone's attention.

Don Falcony frowned. "What did you bring?"

Brandon pulled out his chair and sat down calmly without answering.

A servant began pouring hot tea into the cups, but no one at the table reached for it.

Don Falcony looked at his son again. "I asked you something, Brandon."

Brandon slowly raised his eyes. His face remained expressionless, as though the question had no effect on him whatsoever. "Falcon."

Just one word, yet it was enough to make the entire room freeze.

Lady Falcony blinked several times before letting out a soft laugh. "Brandon," she said, gently shaking her head. "This isn't the right time for jokes."

Brandon didn't return her smile. His gaze remained fixed on his father.

Don Falcony was beginning to lose his patience. "Where's your brother?"

There was no answer.

Brandon merely raised his right hand and lightly tapped the surface of the black urn with the tip of his finger.

Tok.

The soft sound rang out with startling clarity in the silence.

"Right here."

The smile slowly disappeared from Lady Falcony's face.

Her gaze shifted back and forth between Brandon and the urn on the table, as though trying to comprehend the words she had just heard. "No."

Don Falcony's palm slammed down onto the table with such force that the porcelain plates rattled, and the impact echoed throughout the room. The servants still standing in the corners of the dining room instinctively lowered their heads.

No one dared move. Even Lady Falcony flinched, her breath catching as she watched her husband, who had always been able to control his emotions, finally lose his patience.

"Don't play games with me, Brandon!"

His voice thundered through the room, filled with the anger he had been struggling to suppress for the past several minutes. But Brandon remained seated. His shoulder, still wrapped in bandages, did not move in the slightest. His gaze was calm, almost without a ripple, as though the emotional outburst before him could not shake the decision he had made long before setting foot in Berlin again.

"Where is Falcon?" Don Falcony repeated, this time in a lower voice, but one that carried far greater pressure. "Answer me."

Lady Falcony turned to her youngest son. Tears began to gather in her eyes. Her heart refused to believe the terrible premonition that had been haunting her all this time.

"Brandon," she said, her voice trembling. "Tell me this is all just a misunderstanding."

Brandon looked at his mother for several seconds. For a brief moment, his gaze softened. But that softness disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Slowly, he slipped a hand into his jacket pocket, causing several of the family's bodyguards to instinctively straighten. No one knew what he was about to do.