Falling For My Ex's Uncle - Chapter 431: Chapter 431

It was well-known that Michael and Jamilah had been married for thirty years and had only one daughter, Angela.
Yet, on the very day the Adams family publicly announced Angela's death, someone tried to harm Marvin. This made it clear that there were people who wanted to leave the Adams family without an heir.
"You think someone wants to kill me just because they don't want me inheriting the Adams family's fortune?" Marvin turned to look at me, scoffing. "I never wanted anything from the Adams family."
He frowned, thinking for a moment before adding, "And I'm not even worthy of it."
I shot him a glance, noticing his expression darken suddenly. It made my heart ache.
I couldn't remember when I first met him, but I do remember that, back then, he was always the smallest and weakest in the room. At ten years old, he looked no older than six or seven due to malnutrition.
Because of his small size, no one wanted to play with him, and he became the target for bullying.
People say that childhood is crucial— a good childhood can heal a lifetime, while a bad one takes a lifetime to heal.
"I didn't deserve a childhood, because my life has always been at the expense of others," Marvin once said, a smile that was bright but tinged with sadness.
His words seemed out of place against his otherwise cheerful demeanor.
From the time he could remember, Marvin saw his father only a few times a year. Sometimes he would see Michael only once or twice in a whole year.
His mother would tell him that his father was away working to earn money, but as Marvin grew older, he realized she was lying. Every time Michael came home, he could smell the faint scent of tobacco in the air.
Yvonne, perhaps a first-time mother, would drink when she fought with Michael or when she was in a bad mood, sometimes even forgetting that she had a son who needed her.
By the time he was five, Marvin learned to cook pasta on his own. At ten, despite the absence of his parents, he was more than capable of taking care of himself.
Perhaps, in his world, it didn't matter whether or not he had parents.
But for me and Angela, Marvin became someone we leaned on.
It wasn't surprising, really. A child who had never been treated with kindness wouldn't turn down warmth when it was offered.
Life is strange. Marvin, who usually kept to himself and avoided strangers, never resisted Angela. As for me, I couldn't stand to see a group of older boys bullying a younger child. Only later did I find out they were in the same class.
I sympathized with Marvin even more, thinking he must have been a left-behind child, so no one cared for him. Those bullies would call him all sorts of horrible names.
Maybe it was because I could relate to his pain, or maybe I saw myself in him, but I shared my food with him and stood up to the bullies when they picked on him.
I'd hold a brick, staring ominously at the boys who were taller than me. Of course, I mostly just frightened them, never actually hitting them, until one day, one of those punks brought his older brother.
That troublemaker, covered in tattoos and reeking of alcohol, pinned Marvin down on freshly laid cement, beat him mercilessly, and then pressed a wooden stick against Marvin's face, threatening him.
"Get your friends, or you're not walking out of here."
"Are you mute or something?"
"Do you think I won't break your arms and legs today?"
Marvin was beaten to a pulp, curled up on the ground. His head was covered in blood, but he never gave me away, thinking that if he kept quiet, they'd stop.
He didn't know that rebellious boys could be worse than children—they were monsters.
Thankfully, I showed up just as they were about to break his legs.
"A girl? Damn, how pathetic are you, can't even beat a girl?"
"She threatened me."
"Useless. Today, I'll show you how to deal with this little bitch."
Before he could finish, a heavy slap hit my face. My ears rang, and stars exploded in my vision as I staggered back. I wiped my lip, forced a smile, and raised my head to glare at the thug who hit me.
I needed to prove they were the ones who started it, and that I was just defending myself.
"Stupid bitch, you think you can get away with this?" the thug spat, just as a loud howl and pleading cries echoed from the alley.
The leader of the thugs, his face now swollen, was crying like a child, begging for his mother, with tears and snot running down his face.
He looked nothing like the arrogant brat he had been just moments before.
As for the rest of the thugs, they were either wounded or fleeing in panic.
That was the day Marvin discovered my secret. He begged me to teach him how to defend himself.
At first, I thought he wanted to learn to avenge himself, or at least protect himself, but I never expected him to still let others push him around.
He had the ability to fight back but chose not to.
I asked him, "Why don't you fight back?"
Marvin replied, "But you didn't fight back either."
I glared at him, frustrated. "That's because I promised my mom I wouldn't fight, and I didn't want to cause trouble."
"I'm the same," Marvin said.
What a lie. He was Michael's son. If he got hurt, someone would stand up for him—he had a support system. Me? I had nothing.
My mom, whether I was hurt or not, would always say, "Laurel, you have to learn to endure. If other girls bully you, you can tell the teacher, but don't fight, okay? Because we can't afford to pick a fight with them."
I would nod obediently, but I didn't understand why my mom, who could throw away her life, was so afraid of the people who bullied us.
It wasn't until much later that I understood. She had her reasons, her helplessness.
She feared the people from the Parks family, more than anything else—she feared that I might cause trouble and lose my life.
"I'm sorry," she would say, stroking my head with a tone full of guilt. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be living like this. It's all my fault."
I didn't understand why some people always took responsibility for things that weren't their fault, while others shirked it.
At that time, because of Marvin's secret, I started to suspect my mom was also a mistress. But because I was a girl, she wasn't able to rise with her child's status.