Daniel was the first to leave the table. He didn't even look at me before walking off, which basically show just how he despised me.
The twins, of course, noticed it right away.
Ethan smirked while Ella tried to hide her laugh behind a sip of sparkling water.
They were enjoying every second of watching me get ignored. Seeing me treated like dirt was apparently their favorite form of entertainment.
Ellie looked like she wanted to say something. Her eyes flickered between me and Daniel's empty chair, debating whether to speak up.
But before she could even open her mouth, his voice echoed from down the hall.
"Ellie, come here."
She hesitated, gave me an apologetic look, then stood up and left. And just like that, I was left alone with the two gremlins.
Almost immediately , both of them dropped their fake manners. Ella leaned back in her chair with a proud smile.
"Well, that was awkward," she said, twirling her fork. "Guess Daddy really doesn't have time for everyone at the table."
Ethan laughed. "Yeah, especially not for someone who barely counts as family."
Ah, there it was — their charming rotten personality. The old Ace might've ignored them, but not me.
"You're right. It's hard to be overlooked — especially when I'm his only blood related child."
Their grins vanished.
I leaned my elbow on the table and maintain my smile.
"But don't worry. You can make fun of me all you want. It won't change the fact that, legally, I'm still the young master here. Meaning…" I pointed at the ceiling with a lazy grin,
"This mansion, this table, even that shiny fork you're using — they'll all belong to me one day."
They looked like they wanted to argue, but neither of them could think of a comeback.
"You're lying," Ella snapped "There's no way Daddy would ever—"
"Actually, there is," I cut her off, still smiling.
"You two really should pay more attention to how inheritance laws work. It's a fun topic."
That hit them hard. They clearly didn't know the truth yet — that I wasn't Daniel's real son. Which worked perfectly in my favor.
Their irritation turned to anger, and then the name-calling began.
"Average."
"Useless."
"Disgrace."
"Embarrassment!"
I shrugged. "Wow, did you two practice this? Because honestly, it's kind of adorable watching you try so hard."
Ethan slammed his hand on the table. "You think this is funny?"
"Kind of, yeah," I responded, pretending to think about it.
That was the final push. Ethan stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
His eyes burned with the kind of anger bullies get when someone finally talks back.
"You've got a big mouth for someone who's nothing without this family's money," he said, trying to sound tough.
"Oh, that's rich coming from you. If it weren't for your mother being drop dead gorgeous, you two wouldn't even be standing here — so drop the arrogant act."
"You bastard!" Ethan snapped.
I leaned back in my chair and smiled calmly.
"You really planning to get violent with me, Ethan?"
He didn't answer. So, I picked up a spoon between my fingers.
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, I pressed it until the metal bent with a soft snap.
The room went dead quiet.
Ethan's face went pale. Ella's mouth fell open, her confidence draining away like air from a balloon.
"Guess I'm not that average after all,"
"You..." His hands clenched into fists.
He looked ready to lunge across the table, but I didn't give him the chance.
The fork flew from my hand, slicing the air before grazing his cheek and burying itself in the wall with a thunk.
Ethan went pale. Sweat dotted his forehead as he stared at the fork in the wall.
"Learn your place," I stood up. "Or I'll make you."
I stared at him for a few seconds longer before turning away.
He sat down, silent, defeated, every ounce of his previous arrogance gone.
Behind me, I could feel their eyes burning into my back — part fear, part disbelief.
Looking back, I gave them one last advised.
"Dinner's over. Think of that as your lesson — stop being spoiled brats or you'll end up dead on some street corner."
I will give them a chance for Ellie. If they ignore it and make trouble, that's on them — zero common sense, zero sympathy.