Chapter 1495


    Antoine was at a loss for words, but Yates was unfazed, “What I did to her wasn’t exactly honorable,


    even a bit cruel. I’d rather she hated me than forgave me.”


    Antoine frowned. His granddad had always been his greatest supporter, always telling him he was as


    handsome as any movie star, which is why he’d pursued acting. Now, the thought of his beloved


    grandfather leaving this world was too much for him to bear.


    Yates seemed to read his thoughts and smiled at him. “Antoine, when you were a kid, you were my


    favorite. I know it’s hard for you to let me go, but such is life. We all have to face goodbyes.”


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    Yates exhaled a smoke ring, the curling tendrils framing his weathered face in a sort of detached


    serenity. It was as if the youthful Yates, who had been driven by a vengeance so strong it sustained


    him for years, no longer had a reason to hold on now that the scores were settled.


    Antoine didn’t want to let go of such a grandfather and turned away, unable to watch him. Bevis did the


    same, head bowed,ing to terms with his own sadness. Only Peterson seemed to have epted


    the inevitable, calmly staring at Yates without a word.


    Yates’ gaze shifted from Antoine to the stoic face of Peterson. “Aside from Eleanor, I feel I’ve wronged


    you too.”


    Yates gestured to the ground, “You were only this big when I took you arms.”


    He smiled apologetically, “By taking you in, your childhood and youth were different from your brothers’.


    By the time I realized, it was toote.”


    He sighed deeply, his eyes filled with both regret and a sense of peace, “Fortunately, you grew up to be


    kind-hearted despite it all. Otherwise, I’d have to meet your grandmother with shame.”


    Peterson wasn’t bothered by this at all. “Granddad, you’ve put a lot of effort into raising me and have


    been good to me. You were strict but never cruel. Even when you spanked me, you’de at night


    while I was asleep to apply ointment.”


    Yates raised an eyebrow, “You knew?”


    Peterson nodded, “Yes, and I was grateful for it.”


    Yates smiled, relieved, then turned to his two sons sitting on the couch, “You two are getting on in


    years. Take your wives out more, travel. And don’t meddle in your kids’ love lives.”


    He specifically addressed Peterson’s father, “Look out for Peterson. Have a heart-to-heart with him,


    see if he’s got his eye on any girl. If he does, as his father, it’s your job to arrange


    Don''t let anyone cut off his pathy at Peterson’s past his opportunity for love thwarted by Derrick’s wife


    exclus to this history just nodded eagerly in agreement


    had never out much faith in his two sons, knowing theycked the brilliance and


    sharpness needed, hence his focus on his grandsons. Still, his sons were kind-hearted


    and catable enough to serve as directors in thepany


    Liter wrapping up his affairs. Yates let them all leave. Cyril and Derrick, his biological


    couldn’t bear the thought of his death and insisted on staying onest night. Yates.


    ciet


    The sons made beds on the floor next to Yates, asking if there was anything else he wished to do. His


    final wish was to see Pauline.


    That silenced them. In their memories, their father always longed for Pauline, often looking at her


    picture until tears came.


    Manes had never truly lived for himself; his life was a testament to his love for Pauline. If not for his


    vengeance, he would have passed long ago.


    Cyrl and Derrick might not openly express their gratitude, but they deeply appreciated how this


    obsession granted them more time with their father and his affection.


    Bevic, Antoine, and Peterson also stayed, sitting on the living room couch all night, waiting for the


    agonizing moment of farewell. Time, however, moved swiftly, and dawn soon


    Yates bathed, shaved, and had his sons trim his hair. Dressed in a white shirt, ck vest, and ck top


    hat, leaning on his cane, he approached Pauline’s grave.


    As he had done many times before, he touched the photo on her tombstone, speaking to it for a long


    while before saying his goodbyes. But this time, instead of walking away, he took out a syringe.


    Looking at Pauline’s image, he smiled with contentment and without hesitation, injected himself,


    “Pauline Hardy, I’ming to see you I hope you’re in heaven, waiting for me.”


    Pauline, with her kindness, surely belonged in heaven, but Yates, with his bloodstained hands, did not.


    Their lives were destined to be apart-even in death.