𝗦𝗔𝗬 𝗬𝗘𝗦 𝗜𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 Days of Our Lives #DOOL

My stepmom didn’t let me say goodbye to dad. a week later, she stopped me from entering the will reading, saying, “this meeting is only for heirs.” instead of arguing, i calmly gave the lawyer a document. when he read it, her smile disappeared….
My name is Lucian Carter. When I was eight, my mother died. When I was ten, my father remarried, and my childhood ended.
My stepmother, Vivien, and her two children, Khloe and Elias, turned my home into a warzone. My father, lost in his own grief, chose to believe her lies for the sake of peace.
“Lucian, dear,” Vivien would coo, her voice like honeyed poison, “it’s so sad you’re always alone with your books. Perhaps if you tried to be a little more… pleasant, you wouldn’t be so lonely.”
The torment peaked when I was twelve. Elias found the last paper crane my mother and I had folded together in the hospital. He tore it to shreds in front of me with a malicious grin. Something inside me snapped. I flew at him.
Vivien slapped me. “How dare you strike my son!” she shrieked.
When my father got home, he just sighed. “Lucian, I don’t have the energy for your drama. Vivien says you started it, and I believe her. Apologize to your brother and let’s have some peace in this house.”
I didn’t apologize. I ran to my room, locked the door, and cried until I was empty. That night, I stopped crying. I started planning my escape.
When I was thirteen, I found my mother’s diary. My Lucian, she wrote, you are my most precious gift. Never let anyone make you doubt your worth. Those words became my compass.
My father and his new family never understood me. “The Navy?” my father had scoffed when I earned a full scholarship. “What a waste of your potential.”
Years later, he called me home, his voice desperate, to “save” the family company. I returned, foolishly hoping things had changed. Instead, I was treated like an intern by my own stepbrother, Elias.
The final breaking point came in a board meeting. I presented a project for affordable housing, something that could actually help the community.
“We build luxury resorts, not charities, bro,” Elias sneered.
My stepmother, Vivien, turned to my father. “James, are you going to let your sentimental son derail a nine-figure deal?”
My father looked at me, his eyes empty. “Lucian, your idealism is… commendable. But Elias is right. His project is approved.”
That’s when I left, this time for good. I moved to Seattle, started over, and built a successful career on my own terms.
And then, one morning, the past came calling. A nurse’s voice on the other end of the line. “Mr. Carter, your father, James, has passed away.” She paused. “There are things you need to know.” Watch: [in comment] – Made with AI