Investing In My Four Crippled Yandere Wives Get 1000x Returns
Chapter 38| What the Golden Son Left Behind

Chapter 38: 38| What the Golden Son Left Behind

Edward found him alone, unusually enough, near the edge of the Fallen Crown headquarters grounds, several days after the founding ceremony — no golden armor this time, no entourage, no cameras. Just Edward, dressed plainly, expression carrying none of its usual polished confidence.

"I wasn’t sure you’d let me on the property," he said, stopping a cautious distance away.

"I wasn’t sure you’d want to come," Allen replied evenly, setting down the training equipment he’d been organizing. "What do you need, Edward?"

Edward was quiet for a long moment, jaw working silently as if struggling to find the right words. "Father’s facing formal charges," he said finally. "Reginald’s documentation, combined with the Association’s own investigation. It’s over for him, professionally speaking. The guild’s leadership is already transitioning to the board’s oversight while everything gets sorted."

"I heard," Allen said, careful to keep his tone neutral. "I imagine that’s complicated for you."

"That’s one word for it." Edward laughed, short and humorless. "I spent my entire life building an identity around being the golden son, the one who succeeded where you failed. Turns out that identity was built on a foundation my own father was willing to burn down the moment it became inconvenient." He shook his head slowly. "I should have seen that coming. You did, apparently, years before I ever considered it."

"I didn’t see anything," Allen said honestly. "I just got discarded early enough to stop expecting anything different."

Edward flinched slightly at that, something genuinely uncomfortable crossing his expression. "I’ve been thinking a lot, this past week. About the duel. About what you said, actually — that maybe I never really understood what I was fighting for." He met Allen’s gaze, something raw and uncertain behind his usual golden confidence. "You were right. I don’t think I ever did."

"What are you fighting for now?" Allen asked.

Edward considered the question for a long moment. "I don’t know yet," he admitted. "That’s rather the problem. My entire identity revolved around being better than you, proving father’s investment in me was justified. Without that—" He gestured vaguely, at a loss. "I’m not entirely sure who I am anymore."

Allen studied his brother carefully, weighing genuine sympathy against the accumulated weight of months of sabotage, insults, and one very real attempt on his life. "That’s not something I can answer for you," he said finally. "But I’ll say this. The version of yourself you’re describing — the one built entirely around tearing someone else down to feel adequate — that’s not a foundation worth rebuilding. Whatever comes next for you, it needs to be something that isn’t defined by me."

"Easy for you to say," Edward said, though without real bitterness this time. "You’ve got four people who love you unconditionally, a guild that respects you, an entire life you built from nothing while everyone underestimated you. I’ve got..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at himself. "This. Whatever this is now."

"Then build something," Allen said simply. "The same way I did. It won’t be easy, and it won’t happen quickly. But it’s possible, Edward. I’m proof of that."

Edward was quiet for a long moment, something shifting behind his expression — not quite acceptance, not yet, but perhaps the beginning of genuine consideration. "I’m not asking for forgiveness," he said finally. "I know I haven’t earned that. Not after everything."

"No," Allen agreed. "You haven’t."

"But I wanted you to know," Edward continued, voice quieter now, "that I don’t intend to be an enemy going forward. Whatever I end up doing with what’s left of my career, my reputation, all of it — I’m done trying to tear you down to build myself up. That much, at least, I can promise."

Allen studied his brother for a long, considering moment, weighing the sincerity of the admission against months of accumulated harm. "I’ll believe that when I see it proven through actions, not promises," he said finally. "But I appreciate you saying it, regardless."

Edward nodded slowly, accepting the measured response without argument. He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back one final time. "For what it’s worth," he said, "the girls made the right choice. Whatever forced circumstances brought all of you together, I don’t think any of them regret where it ended up."

"No," Allen agreed quietly. "I don’t think they do either."

Edward left without further conversation, and Allen watched him go, something complicated settling in his chest — not quite closure, not quite reconciliation, but perhaps the first tentative step toward something less openly hostile than the bitter rivalry that had defined their relationship for months.

---

He found Myria waiting nearby once Edward had fully departed, her expression carefully neutral, though Allen suspected she’d overheard at least part of the conversation.

"You didn’t forgive him," she observed.

"No," Allen confirmed. "But maybe I don’t need to hold onto that anger forever, either. There’s a difference between forgiveness and simply refusing to let someone else’s cruelty define how I move forward."

Myria considered that for a moment before nodding slowly, quiet approval evident in her expression. "That’s a healthier perspective than I expected, given everything he’s put us through."

"I learned it from four women who somehow managed to build something beautiful out of circumstances that could have easily made them bitter instead," Allen said, reaching for her hand. "Seemed worth applying to my own situation."

Myria’s fingers tightened around his, something thoughtful still lingering behind her sharp blue eyes. "Do you think he meant it? About not being an enemy going forward."

"I think he wants to mean it," Allen said honestly. "Whether that translates into actually changing, long-term, I genuinely don’t know. People don’t always follow through on the version of themselves they glimpse during a low moment. Sometimes the old patterns creep back in the moment life gets comfortable again."

"And if he doesn’t follow through?"

"Then we’ll handle it the same way we’ve handled everything else," Allen said simply. "Together, and without letting it define us." He glanced toward the direction Edward had disappeared. "But I’d rather extend the possibility of something better and be wrong, than assume the worst and close that door before he’s had a real chance to prove himself either way."

Myria’s answering smile was soft, genuine, and Allen felt the last lingering tension from Edward’s visit finally ease from his shoulders, replaced by the steady, familiar comfort of the life he’d built — imperfect, complicated, but entirely, unmistakably his own.