Chapter 663: Father and Son as Rivals

"My teeth grew back, look."

Nan Thorne grinned, pointing at the tiny new teeth that had sprouted inside for Adrian Hawthorne to see. She was eating much less candy these days.

Adrian Hawthorne flicked her front tooth in satisfaction, making tears well up in her eyes. She clutched her mouth and glared at him, annoyed. But Adrian Hawthorne himself just laughed. Compared to the grim, hostile boy he’d been back in early spring, the Adrian of today seemed as gentle as an angel.

"Adrian, I’ve got something to tell you. It’s about your..."

Jim Thorne blurted out the moment he walked in. Nan Thorne was so furious she grabbed a piece of candy and threw it at him. ’Rosalind Green is still here!’

"Jim, pick up my candy!"

Nan Thorne yelled. Jim Thorne immediately forgot what he was about to say, squatting down to pick up the candy. He grinned as he handed it back to Nan Thorne. He was about to speak again, but Nan Thorne kicked him and shot him a fierce glare. Only then did Jim Thorne seem to realize, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"What is it?" Adrian Hawthorne asked, puzzled. ’What kind of charade are these siblings playing at?’

"Let’s talk outside!"

Jim Thorne draped an arm over Adrian Hawthorne’s shoulder and led him outside. Nan Thorne hurried to follow. Rosalind Green set down her scissors, gathered all the candy from the table into a cabinet, and shared some with Phoebe Huxley and the others.

Once they were outside, Jim Thorne finally brought up Bernice.

"I’m telling you, that vixen your dad’s shacking up with is the aunt of that little bitch, Jacqueline Spann. None of them in that family are good people."

Adrian Hawthorne’s expression shifted slightly. "How do you two know that?"

"That hussy came to the village a few days ago and talked with Jacqueline Spann on the bridge for a good long while. That’s the one. Nan said she’s Jacqueline’s aunt."

Adrian Hawthorne let out a cold laugh. ’So they’re haunting me even here,’ he thought. ’And no wonder. She and Jacqueline Spann... so they really are family!’

"Mr. Hawthorne, did you see your father on your trip to Tristone?" Nan Thorne asked with concern.

Adrian Hawthorne’s face grew even colder. "I saw him. And I saw that woman. They’re living in the house my mother used to live in."

Even though he had decided to steal his father’s business, he had still wanted to give the man one last chance. After arriving in Tristone, his first stop was his old family home. His memories of the place were hazy, but with the address provided by Aston Marsh, he found it easily. Seeing the familiar small villa, Adrian Hawthorne recalled many things from his early childhood. The memories were faint, but he had an impression of it. That was the place where he was born.

But he saw his father and that woman living in the house like husband and wife. The woman was acting as if she were the lady of the house, listening to the record player his mother had once listened to, sitting in his mother’s favorite wicker chair. And the dining table, the cabinets, the bed... nothing had changed. Now, this woman had taken over everything.

Adrian Hawthorne was furious. ’For four years, he and his mother had suffered and waited. And what did they get in return?’

’His father was clearly doing well for himself. So why hadn’t he come to find them?’

’Now it was clear: he had found a new lover and forgotten that he and his mother were still suffering on Millstone Peak.’

Furious and disheartened, Adrian Hawthorne made up his mind to seize his father’s market in Tristone. Progress was smooth. His inventory was more complete than his father’s, he had a larger supply, and his prices were cheaper. Naturally, everyone started coming to him to buy fabric.

The most direct and effective way to seize a market is a price war. He not only lowered his prices, but his goods were better too. Within three months, the market in Tristone would inevitably become a standoff between him and his father.

At that point, he would negotiate with his father face-to-face.

He wouldn’t be the one to initiate contact. He would wait for his father to come knocking.

"Don’t feel bad," Jim Thorne said, comforting his friend. "How about this: next time that hussy comes around, I’ll throw a sack over her head and give her a good beating?"

The comment made Adrian Hawthorne laugh. He rolled his eyes. "I don’t need your help. I’ll take care of it myself!"

’This woman, Bernice... he swore he would leave her with absolutely nothing!’