Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 459

He’d never felt this kind of exhaustion before—not during those days, not ever.

Physical fatigue and the weariness that gnawed at his heart were two very different beasts.

Even though he’d mapped out every step, even though every move was calculated, there were moments—when Lynch Corporation was spiraling into chaos, when the senior staff whispered behind his back, calling him a fool, an ingrate—when the heaviness inside him felt unbearable.

He was miserable, but he had no idea who he could confide in.

“When I was a kid, my grandfather once told me a story,” Winnie said softly. “He said the reason eagles rule the skies isn’t just because they’re born strong—it’s because they survive the fall. Young eagles don’t hatch with powerful wings. Their parents push them from the nest, straight off the cliff. Their wings break, heal, and only then do they grow strong enough to chase their ambitions.”

Winnie watched Easton in silence.

Easton was the future of Tyrone’s family—he was destined to reach the top, sooner or later.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

There was no escaping that.

For a long moment, Easton sat there, stunned. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

He leaned against Winnie, as if being close to her brought him a little peace at last.

Winnie looked at him helplessly.

Was this kid ever going to go back to his own bed?

…

Bedroom.

Alicia reclined against the headboard and handed Tyrone a bottle of stretch mark cream.

It really did matter that fathers played a part during pregnancy.

“Our little one’s being good tonight,” Tyrone murmured, carefully rubbing the cream over her belly. His voice softened instinctively, as if he were afraid of startling the baby inside.

He wanted to tell Alicia about his tangled history with the Quinn family, but the words caught in his throat.

“My grandfather—Sean Quinn’s father—he’s never forgiven me for what happened to his daughter… After my mom died, he fell ill, left the company, and handed The Quinn Group over to Sean. He retired to Florida and I haven’t seen him in years…”

Tyrone’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Alicia wrapped her arms around him, aching for him. She knew this wound was something he rarely let anyone touch.

“Sean Quinn was a soldier before all this. He never cared for running the family business—he just wanted to serve, to follow his dream. But after my mom died and my grandfather’s health failed, he had no choice but to come home and take over. He’s always resented me for that…”

The truth was, Sean Quinn had never forgiven Tyrone. He might not have believed the rumors that Tyrone was some kind of monster, but the fact remained—his sister was dead, and nothing could change that.

“He was the one who insisted on locking me up in a mental institution. He called me a crazy murderer, said I killed my own mother. If my grandfather hadn’t fought for me, Sean probably would’ve dragged me there himself… When I was eleven, he tried—waited until Grandpa was out of Harboridge, tried to have me committed. I stabbed him…”

Tyrone’s voice faded into silence.