The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate

Daniel and Patricia weren't in bed yet; they were in the living room, binge-watching TV and playing with their dog.

When Brandon barged in out of the blue, they were both caught off guard, exchanged a quick glance, and hesitantly stood up.

Brandon scanned the swanky living room decor before setting his sights on Daniel and Patricia. "This house was left toby

Grandpa, and as of tomorrow, I'm taking it back. You guys need to find somewhere else to crash."

Daniel was fuming.

Brandon glanced at Daniel. "You two still have about 15% stake in the company. Every tyou go crying to Sophia, I'll snatch 5%

back until it's all gone. And those bank cards in your names? If there's any financial foul play, the company can freeze 'em. We've

got a laundry list of money issues between us."

"Are you out of your mind?" Daniel lost his cool and started to go off on Brandon.

"Yeah, I'm crazy," Brandon replied calmly, contrasting Daniel's rage, "so next tyou open your mouth, weigh your words

carefully unless you want to dig your own grave."

"What kind of spell did that woman cast on you? To go to such lengths against your own folks for her?" Daniel bellowed, "If I'd

known, | would've stopped you at all costs, never letting her through the door."

Patricia quickly intervened, trying to soothe the situation with a gentle voice towards Brandon.

"Brandon, we're only looking out for you. Let's talk this out. It's not like we can't settle this issue. Handling things this way is only

going to stir up more trouble between us and Sophia."

Brandon slightly curled his lip, "Haven't | given you enough chances to talk things out? How did that turn out? You took advantage

ofbeing busy at work to mistreat her. Didn't you think that was escalating the conflict?"

Patricia was left speechless.

"I've been too lenient with you in the past. Reasoning only works with those who can think straight," Brandon said, looking at her,

"Once you have this discrimination on her, you lose the ability to think clearly. No point wasting my time."

"Besides, don't overestimate your importance," Brandon continued, "Your approval means squat to her, or to me. If you want a

peaceful life, zip it. Know what you should stick your nose into and what you shouldn't. I'm sure | don't need to remind you."

"You're really biting the hand that feeds you," Daniel's temper flared again, "I'm telling you, as long as I'm breathing, she won't

have the chance to set foot in this house again."

Brandon gave him a look. "It's you who's about to be kicked to the curb, don't get it twisted."

He then called out to the house, "Nell."

Nell, the butler, who was busy in the garden, hurried inside. "Mr. Brandon, what's up?"

"From tomorrow, make sure Daniel and his wife start moving out," Brandon ordered coldly, "They have a week. If they're still here

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after that, no need for pleasantries, just call the movers."

With that, Brandon turned and left.

"You do what you gotta do, | won't let her off easy," Daniel's roar echoed from behind, "A grown man, played like a fiddle by a

worthless woman, it's a disgrace to the Crawley family name. | won't let her get away with it."

Brandon paused, turned back, and said, "You can't hurt me, so you go after a defenseless woman? Is that all you've got?"

"If it wasn't for her, our family wouldn't be in this mess," Daniel shot back, glaring at him, "She's a disaster."

"You're the ones who've brought this family to its knees, not her," Brandon retorted coldly, "Daniel, you're old enough to know

better. Besides blaming others and shirking responsibility, what else can you do?"

Daniel clamped his mouth shut, his face still seething with anger.

"You never learn to reflect, always pushing the blonto others," Brandon said, his voice ice-cold, "You don't have a single trace

of a father's demeanor."

Daniel remained silent.

"Let's hope what you just said was a slip of the tongue in a moment of anger, otherwise..."

Brandon left the rest unsaid and walked away.

Brandon had just gotten hwhen he ran into Don, who was coming out of the elevator.

"What are you doing here?"

Brandon asked as he walked to his door, pressing his finger on the biometric lock.

With a soft "beep," the lock disengaged, and Brandon pushed the door open.

Don followed him inside, chuckling, "Heard someone got royally pissed off for his lady love and made a scene back home?"

Brandon paused while closing the door and then looked at him, "Did they send you to play peacemaker?"

"Your mom did ringup," Don admitted with a nod, "said you and your dad are at each other's throats again, and since we're

friends, she thought | should cand talk ssense into you."

"Then you can show yourself out."

Brandon bluntly opened the door again and headed towards the living room.

But Don wasn't fazed by the cold shoulder, his face still sporting a carefree grin, "I didn't say | agreed, did I? What's the rush?"

As he spoke, he turned back to close the door for Brandon.

"So, what brings you over?"

Brandon asked as he passed the bar, pulling open the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle and a glass, popped the cork with a swift

motion, and poured himself a generous drink. He put the bottle back with the sefficiency, his face tense and expressionless.

Don approached, "Don't be stingy, pourone too."

He reached for Brandon's glass, but before he could touch it, Brandon had already picked it up.

"Pour your own!"

With a flat reminder, Brandon downed his drink in one gulp.

Don glanced at him, "Feeling that bad, huh?"

Brandon gave him a sidelong look but remained silent. He refilled his glass, drank it down in one go, and then slammed the glass

onto the bar, leaning on the counter with his arms slightly spread, eyes half-closed, not saying a word for a while.

Don couldn't help but look in his direction.

Brandon had his poker face on, the kind that was almost expressionless.

Don let out a sigh, slinging an arm over his shoulder, "Got knocked back by Sophia again?"

"Nope." The reply cback ice-cold and clipped.

Brandon shrugged off the hand from his shoulder, turned his head, and asked, "Spill it, what's up?"

"What else could it be? Just worried that you might be sulking at home, drowning your sorrows in booze," Don said, as he grabbed

a glass from the liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink, and raised it in a toast, "Here to keep you company."

"Don't need it," Brandon said, gesturing dismissively, "Take a hike."

"Con, don't givethe cold shoulder," Don appealed.

He was about to take a sip when Brandon swiped the glass from his hand.

"lI won't call you a cab later."

As he spoke, he set the glass down on the bar.

Don looked longingly at the drink on the table, "I don't mind crashing here for the night."

He glanced around the spacious house, "It's not like there's no room. This place is huge and empty."

Brandon's eyes also swept over the place. It was indeed vast and void.

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So large that you could fit a kids' play area in the living room and still have room to spare.

Thinking of Theresa, joyfully and earnestly showing him her toys on her tiny mat at home, Brandon paused his gaze for a moment.

Don noticed the change in his eyes and curiously looked in the direction of Brandon's gaze, but there was nothing to see.

"What's up?" he asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," Brandon pulled his gaze back.

"So, what exactly went down tonight that got you blowing up at your parents?" Don got to the heart of the matter, "Did they hound

Sophia?"

Brandon gave him a look and, uncharacteristically, didn't brush him off, just nodded slightly, "Yeah."

Don frowned, "That doesn't add up. Why would they suddenly go after Sophia for no reason?"

"The reason's not important," Brandon said, although his mind couldn't help replaying the accusation from Daniel over the phone,

"She's even tricked Mrs. Frost into thinking she's Yolanda," causing his brows to furrow slightly.

"What's wrong?" Don asked, sensing something was off.

"Nothing," Brandon shook his head.

He continued, "They have their own twisted logic. Once they've taken a dislike to someone, they'll always find a way to justify it to

themselves."

Don chuckled, "If you know them so well, why bother butting heads? You know exactly what your dad's like—a tough nut to crack.

The harder you push, the harder he pushes back. I'm just worried he's gonna take it out on Sophia."

"That's ‘cause life hasn't given him a good beating yet," Brandon said stoically, "He's only like that because he's got his dad

spoiling him rotten. Well, I'm not his dad, and I'm not about to coddle him."

Don laughed and looked at him, "So you're determined to set them straight?"

Brandon glanced at him, "If you've got the tto plead on their behalf, you might as well spend it telling them to back off and

mind their own beeswax."

"Whoa, hold up," Don quickly made a 'time-out' gesture, "I'm not here to play peacemaker, okay? I'm just worried your parents

might push too hard and drive Sophia away."

Brandon looked at him but said nothing.

Don couldn't help but voice his concerns.

"Don't forget, Sophia agreed to cback just for the Zenithan-style resort project. That project's been approved now, Mr.

Gardner's got her entered in the competition, and they're about to have the groundbreaking ceremony. As far as she's concerned,

mission accomplished. She's the kind of person who avoids trouble when she can, and there's not much here holding her back."

He trailed off, shooting a glance at Brandon, but didn't finish his thought.