Building The Strongest Family

The walls of the Osborn estate felt less like a stranger's home and more like a long-lost embrace for Billy.

After a stormy reunion that left him raw and vulnerable, he had been welcomed back, though the warmth was tempered with caution.

Not everyone had found their voice, and Arthur's silence loomed over him like an impending thunderstorm.

That morning, Billy awoke not to the harsh chill of a cold floor or the blaring alarms of factory life but to the feather-soft luxury of a bed crafted from wealth.

Silk sheets enveloped him like clouds, while the air in his spacious room was infused with cedarwood and lavender.

He luxuriated in a marble-tiled bathroom three times larger than the dingy space he had rented for months.

Hot water flowed endlessly from golden faucets shaped like lion heads, washing away not just grime but also months of shame and exhaustion.

Dressed in new, tailored clothes that felt foreign against his skin,a deep navy silk shirt caressing his arms like water he marveled at how well-fitting trousers seemed almost to meld into him.

Downstairs, the dining table groaned under an extravagant spread fit for royalty: golden-brown pastries bursting with fragrant meats, fresh fruits gleaming like jewels, steaming pots of rich soups, and exotic drinks fizzing magically in crystal glasses.

As Billy ate slowly and silently, his hands trembled not from hunger but disbelief.

Tears threatened to spill as he savored flavors he had nearly forgotten; he had lost touch with what it meant to be an Osborn.

Later that day, wandering through the mansion's opulent halls, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn to Arthur's study.

His fist hovered inches from polished wood as he stood there in a daze before finally knocking lightly on the door,the sound echoing loudly in the stillness.

"Enter," came Arthur's calm yet crisp voice.

Stepping inside, Billy was enveloped by dim lighting and an atmosphere both elegant and serene; scents of old paper, ink, and fine wine mingled in the air.

Arthur sat behind an imposing obsidian desk, swirling red wine in a glass while casually crossing his legs, his black shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

He raised his gaze slightly to scrutinize Billy before saying simply, "Sit," gesturing toward the chair across from him.

Billy obeyed without hesitation, sinking into soft leather as silence settled between them, a heavy silence filled with unspoken weight.

Arthur watched him intently without uttering a word; each sip of wine was deliberate as if savoring every moment.

Just as Billy opened his mouth to speak, Arthur interrupted smoothly yet sharply: "Tell me... what was it like? Living out there? Without this family's shelter? Without wealth cushioning your fall? What did you learn?"

Caught off guard by such directness, Billy froze momentarily before looking down at clenched fists. "It was... hell," he murmured softly.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he observed Billy.

The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and it felt like the calm before a storm.

Billy looked up, bitterness shining in his eyes. "You know what it's like out there? You work twenty-one hours just to scrape together enough for a single meal.

You're crammed into a room barely bigger than a closet with two other people.

The walls are paper-thin, dust hangs heavy in the air, and you wake up aching all over while your stomach growls like an angry beast."

He paused, taking a deep breath as if gathering strength. "But you know what hurts the most? It's not just the hunger or the cold; it's that look people give you, like you're invisible, like you don't even exist."

Arthur remained silent, his calm gaze fixed on Billy as he continued to speak passionately.

"I've seen people who put in twice the effort of anyone in this family," Billy said, voice growing steadier. "And they have nothing to show for it. I met a woman who walked two hours just to get to work, only to be fired because her uniform had a tear!

And then there was this man, a former professor now reduced to scrubbing floors because an injury left him behind in this fast-paced world because he wouldn't keep up with new tech"

Arthur's expression didn't change; he stayed composed as if absorbing every word while sipping from his glass.

"You know what life has taught me?" Billy leaned forward, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Power isn't just about privilege, it's about immunity! Those without power get crushed by the system. It's slavery disguised with smiles; you're paid just enough to survive and keep showing up while your hard work fills the pockets of those living high above us, never seeing the grime below."

He still remember waiting in line for factory shifts that paid by the hour.

The air was thick with exhaust fumes and exhaustion seeped into his bones from worn-out shoes.

Next to him stood a young mother clutching her child tightly, whispering hopeful wishes about getting lucky today.

He could still hear that supervisor's mocking laughter when he was told to clean up after others:

"Did your rich-boy hands get used to bleach yet?"

"I thought freedom meant leaving everything behind and doing things my way," Billy continued softly now. "But freedom without power? It's nothing but a cruel joke."

Another memory crashed over him like a wave, the face of Kaia, tired yet warm-hearted after they shared half of a sandwich together: "Billy, people out there would kill for even half or 1% of what you walked away from."

"She was right," he whispered slowly.

The clink of Arthur's glass meeting wood broke through their silence as he finally spoke up.

"So," he said slowly, tone unreadable, "what now?"

Billy locked eyes with Arthur, determination etched across his face. "I don't want pity or to be coddled. I want to earn my place in this world. Teach me how to survive,not just as your brother, but as a man who understands what it truly means to fall. I want to build something that matters."

For a fleeting moment, Arthur's gaze shifted; it wasn't sympathy he felt but a deep understanding of Billy's resolve.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air.

"Then prove it," Arthur replied firmly. "No more illusions, no safety nets. You'll start from scratch, this time within the family. If you're serious about this, you'll have to earn every step up the ladder, and trust me, every move will be under watch."

Billy nodded without hesitation, ready for the challenge ahead.

Arthur leaned back in his chair and smiled, a glimmer of pride mixed with something deeper in his eyes.