Tyrone had arranged to meet Easton, who showed up early, pedaling his old mountain bike down the winding drive.
The Obsidian Table was tucked away in a quiet corner of Seaview City, its manicured gardens and elegant paths evoking the charm of a storybook manor. Everything about the place spoke of understated luxury, from the fountainâs gentle trickle to the whisper of wind through the laurels.
It wasnât the sort of restaurant you stumbled into. Here, the clientele were the cityâs eliteâevery parking space out front held a gleaming Mercedes or a bespoke Rolls-Royce. The only exception was Easton, just a teenager, weaving through the line of supercars on his battered bike. With the afternoon sun lighting up his hair, he looked almost out of place, like a page plucked straight from a different life.
Tyrone watched from the window of his private dining room. He sat amid all this cultivated serenity, sipping tea and gazing over the gardens, when Easton came into viewâan undeniable contrast to the world around him.
And yet, Tyrone couldnât help but envy him.
Easton had everything Tyrone never did: a carefree childhood, the brash confidence of youth... Even if his father had been a poor excuse for a parent, at least Easton got the kind of freedom and companionship Tyrone could only dream of.
Tyroneâs own childhood was a nightmareâheâd lost his mother in the most violent way, nearly died as a teenager, clawed his way to the top... only to be betrayed by the grandfather he trusted most, stabbed right in the heart when he least expected it.
âExcuse me, sir, but you canât leave your bike here,â one of the restaurant staff called, clearly baffled. No one ever brought a bicycle hereâthere wasnât even a spot for it.
âTake care of it for him,â Tyrone said quietly, leaning against the intricately carved window frame, his voice carrying just enough authority to settle the matter.
Easton spotted him and waved, a little awkward but happy. âHey, Tyrone!â he called, a touch embarrassed.
The manager, realizing this was Tyroneâs younger brother, didnât dare protest further. He wheeled the old bike away, eyeing it with confusion. Was this battered thing really the legendary bicycle worth more than a BMW? Surely not.
Tyroneâs expression didnât change. He had never been one for warmth; for all their blood ties, he and Easton always felt like rivals more than brothers.
âThanks for inviting me to dinner,â Easton said, his voice bright and unguarded. There was nothing hidden in him, just that blinding, honest sunlight that made Tyroneâs chest ache with a strange, restless longing.
Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent)
ï¤Chapter 299 The Heiress Acts Mischievously, But Her Family Can Read Her Mind ï¤Chapter 347: Administering Drugs Easton grinned, boyish and genuine, the tips of his canines peeking out and making his faceâso much like Tyroneâs ownâsomehow even more striking.
For a moment, Tyrone was lost in thought. Looking at the kid in front of him, he let himself imagine another life, one he might have lived if fate had been kinder. Maybe... maybe Easton could live the way Tyrone always wanted to.
When heâd first heard Easton was coming back to the Lynch family, Tyroneâs gut reaction had been to destroy him, to snuff out that sunlight before it could threaten his world. But now, something else stirred inside himâa surprising urge to protect.
He wasnât sure if he wanted to shield Eastonâs innocence, or if he was really just trying to save the last bright corner of his own soul.
âWhat do you want to eat?â Tyrone asked, sliding the menu across.
Easton looked startled by the gesture, flipping through the leather-bound pages with wide eyes. âUh, Tyrone... this place is crazy expensive. Maybe I could take you somewhere else? My treat?â
It was trueâthis was the kind of place where a bowl of soup cost more than most peopleâs weekly groceries, and an artfully plated dessert would set you back nearly a thousand dollars.
Tyrone studied Easton, and for a fleeting second, he saw a shadow of Aliciaâthought of that day, after theyâd registered their marriage, when sheâd dragged him to a food truck for greasy burgers and fries instead of some high-end bistro.
He smiled faintly, lost in memory, but said nothing.
Easton glanced at him, a little anxious, unsure if his older brother was still annoyed with him.
The truth was, Easton had always been starved for affection. With a deadbeat father and an indifferent motherâboth of them too lazy and self-
absorbed to careâheâd grown up learning to scrape by on his own, eating wherever he could, just to fill his stomach.
Switched Marriage The Coddled Little Wife ï¤Chapter 538: Unimaginable