THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

At that moment, Oliver stood frozen, staring at his father with disbelief written all over his face. His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, each word from his father still echoing in his mind, cutting deeper than any wound he'd taken in the fight earlier. For a moment, he couldn't even find the words not because he didn't have anything to say, but because there was too much to say, a flood of emotions crashing inside him all at once.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, trembling with restrained anger, but heavy enough to silence even William's smugness.

"So that's it?" Oliver said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his father. "This just proves what I've always known. I don't belong here. I never have."

His words hung in the air like a confession, raw and bitter.

Then he let out a dry, humorless laugh and shook his head slowly.

"You know, I never asked to be part of this family," he continued, his tone rising. "I never begged any of you to accept me. I never asked to be here in the first place. And now right here, right now, you've finally said it out loud. You've put it right in my face."

Then William folded his arms, silent but clearly satisfied, his smirk faint but unmistakable. Their father, however, stood still, his brows furrowed as Oliver's words cut through the room.

"I'm not mad at you, William," Oliver said suddenly, turning his gaze toward his half-brother. "You've always hated me, and I've always known it. This… this is just you being you."

Then Oliver turned back to his father, his expression hardening, eyes burning with a pain that went deeper than rage.

"But you?" Oliver's voice broke for just a second before firming again. "You're the only one I'm mad at. Because you knew. You knew what this was, and you said nothing. You let this happen. You stood there and supported it. You chose him… over the family."

The silence in the room grew suffocating. Even William's smirk faltered slightly at the weight of Oliver's words.

Oliver straightened his shoulders, his voice low but laced with finality.

"I won't stand by and watch this anymore," he said firmly. "I won't stay here and let you keep pushing me down, pretending I'm part of this family when we all know I'm not. If this is what being a Victor means, then I want no part of it."

At that moment, Oliver stood at the doorway, his hand gripping the edge of the frame as though holding himself back from unleashing everything inside him. His voice, low yet steady, cut through the silence that had gripped the room.

"And one more thing," Oliver began, his eyes sweeping from William to his father. "As for Cora… I'm done with this nonsense. I'm not going to do anything concerning her not to fight, not to argue, not to convince her. Because I don't need to."

At that moment William's smirk wavered slightly, but Oliver didn't stop. He stepped back toward the center of the room, every movement deliberate, his tone sharpening with each word.

"This is just a warning to all of you," Oliver said firmly, his voice growing bolder. "If any of you think Cora is the kind of woman you can push around… persuade with sweet words… or blackmail into something she doesn't want to do then wake up. You're living in a dream."

He took a deep breath, letting his words sink in.

"Cora will never go with you, William. Never. It's not going to happen. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner this pathetic war you've started ends."

The room went silent again, but this time, Oliver didn't waver. His gaze hardened, and his next words were directed straight at his father.

"And as for me?" Oliver's tone turned cold. "After tonight, I don't see myself as a Victor anymore. You can keep the name. You can keep the family. Do whatever you want."

For a brief moment, neither William nor their father spoke. The weight of Oliver's words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. William's jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack, his hands curling into fists at his sides. This wasn't the Oliver he was used to the one who would try to calm the storm, bend to their father's will, or swallow his own anger for the sake of peace.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing this Oliver stood tall. Unshaken. Resolute.

And that, more than anything infuriated William.

At that moment, William's face twisted with more rage, his voice breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room.

"So this is what you want, huh?" William snapped, stepping closer, the veins in his neck visible as his anger surged. "You want to play tough now, Oliver? Fine. Here's my warning, stay the hell away from me. Stay away from anything that has to do with me. And most importantly…" He jabbed a finger toward Oliver's chest, his words dripping like venom. "…stay away from Cora. She's none of your business now."

He paused, glaring into Oliver's eyes with an intensity that could cut glass. "If I hear even once that you've been talking bad about me to her, or trying to poison her against me, I swear I'll come back, and next time…" His lips curled into a dangerous sneer. "…next time, you won't be standing when it's over."

Hearing Williams words Oliver's jaw tightened, his shoulders squared as he turned his head just enough to look at William over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable.

"Suit yourself," Oliver said quietly. "I don't care."

And with that, he turned and continued toward the door. His footsteps echoed against the polished floor, slow and deliberate.

Their father, who had remained silent until now, suddenly erupted. His voice boomed through the room, sharp and commanding, like a clap of thunder.

"Young man!" he barked, his hand slamming against the arm of the chair he was standing next to.

"Will you stop there?!"

Oliver didn't flinch. He didn't even look back. His steps didn't falter as he closed the distance to the door.

"Oliver!" his father roared again, anger burning in every word. "Don't you dare walk away from me!"

Still, Oliver kept walking. The sound of his steady footsteps against the floor was deafening in the tense silence.

"Oliver!" His father's voice cracked now.

"If you walk out that door…" His words hung heavy in the air, each one sharper than the last. "…then mark my words, you are no longer a part of this family!"