No Longer Your Perfect Son

The Ashworth Groups annual summit.

My mother, Victoria Ashworth, stood on the stage, ready to announce the companys heir. Everyone in the ballroom, from the board members to the press, turned to look at meher son, the Vice President of seven years.

But the next second, she announced that my cousin, Connor, would inherit the mantle and serve as the company's new Chief Executive Officer.

The entire hall erupted in a stunned silence, then a low, confused murmur.

I stared at her, shock quickly turning to a trembling rage. "Eight years Ive run this company, and I'm your son," I demanded, my voice tight. "Connor just graduated. On what planet does he deserve the CEO position?"

My mother's expression was cold, utterly devoid of warmth. "Because Connor is stronger than you," she replied. "He will surpass your eight years of accomplishments in one."

I froze. Then, a furious, bitter laugh escaped me, tilting my head back as it echoed through the silence.

I knew that wasn't the real reason.

It was her constant need to maintain 'perfect optics,' to frame every decision as a sacrifice for the family's perceived moral integrity. Since she insisted on giving everything that was mine to Connor, time and time again, I would take my core team, start my own empire, and finally stop being her son.

My laughter stunned the entire room.

The wide, business-like smile on my mothers face vanished, replaced by a deep frown. "Did you forget your meds this morning, Ryan? What is this spectacle?" she hissed.

"Ive gone mad, yes," I countered, dropping the smile and locking eyes with her. "You drove me to it."

"When this company was collapsing, I was the one working under 100-degree heat to land clients, collapsing from heat exhaustion a dozen times to stabilize the situation."

"I designed our breakthrough product, pulled an all-nighter for an entire week, nearly dying on the floor! That product exploded. That's when we started turning a profit!"

Every word I spoke was hard and undeniable. Heads in the crowd nodded in agreement; they all knew the truth of my efforts.

Only my mother's face grew colder. She grit her teeth. "Enough! What is this loud, unseemly shouting? You are embarrassing me!"

"I acknowledge youve had some accomplishments, but they still don't measure up to Connors. He just returned and already closed the deal with OmniCorp International."

"You," she finished, a cruel, final twist of the knife, "worked a year and couldn't seal that agreement."

Hearing that, I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I was completely blindsided.

That deal, the biggest in company history, was my year-long effortthe one that cost me countless red-eye flights and nearly drained my health. My mother had promised to announce the good news at the gala, but instead, she'd just handed the credit to Connor. All to appear fair, all to maintain her perfect, untouchable optics.

Connor, stepping in with practiced fake humility, spoke up. "Aunt Victoria, my qualifications arent enough. I truly shouldn't take this CEO spot."

"Let my cousin, Ryan, have it. Please don't let this ruin your family relationship. I'm happy to serve as his Deputy."

Listen to him. So humble, so magnanimous. It secured him a position, guaranteeing him a comfortable life as the guaranteed runner-up.

My mother didn't even notice the blatant manipulation. She snapped at me again. "Look at Connor, you brat! See how gracious he is! Then look at youyou do nothing but provoke me."

"The CEO position is final. Connor will take it."

"I will fire anyone who objects. Including you."

Her eyes pinned me with a stark, terrifying threat. Beside her, a smug, barely perceptible smirk touched Connors lips. The whispers around the room intensified. Some pitied me. Many mocked me. Others were already sucking up to Connor.

My heart felt dead. Looking at my mother one last time, I said, "Then let Connor be your son."

"I quit."

The entire hall fell into a perfect, absolute silence. Everyone, including my mother, stared wide-eyed, unable to comprehend that I had just renounced my family. I turned immediately, walking toward the exit.

But as I reached the corridor, my mothers voice followed me.

"Ryan."

She grabbed my arm, her manicured nails digging in. "Can you not be an adult for once? Fighting with me in front of all those people? It's utterly humiliating."

"Connors parents died young. We have to take care of him!"

"And right now, I have to maintain optics! As soon as I win the Entrepreneur of the Year award, Ill find a way to get you the CEO spot. Now, come back inside, apologize to everyone, and tell them youll gladly be Connors Deputy."

I had foolishly thought she was having a change of heart. I had been wrong. This was another brutal blow.

"I earned an acceptance to an elite MBA program on my own merit," I said, my voice raw. "And you revoked my spot and gave it to Connor, who was sleeping through community college."

"You said it was to 'maintain optics.'"

"You said he was poor and lonely and I had to yield."

"You said you'd let me go later."

"But what was the result?" I looked up at her, demanding an answer she couldn't give.

This pattern had repeated my entire life. When I excelled in school, I was pulled out of the best programs. My mother always cited 'optics.' But she immediately leveraged her influence to slip the underperforming Connor into the exact spots I had been denied. For years, I wondered if I simply wasn't good enough, if I hadn't tried hard enough to earn her approval.

Now, I finally understood: no matter how high I climbed, I would never be enough. I would never be worth more than a single word: "Optics."

It was as if Id ripped a hidden secret from her chest. My mother's face reddened with rage. "Ryan, if you continue this tantrum, you will never be allowed back in this company!"

Her gaze was icy and full of pure threat.

"Fine."

This time, I didn't back down. I turned and walked away.

She stood there, frozen. Her mouth opened, as if to yell or plead, but in the end, she said nothing.

Stepping out of the hotel, the frigid December air was like my mothers cold wordsbitter, piercing, and sharp enough to cut through my heart.

"Mom," I whispered to the wind. "I have the ability to stand on my own, even without you."

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and messaged Sasha, a graduate student I knew from the city's investment circles: Heard youre loaded and have nowhere to put your cash. Interested in investing in me?

[I am!] Sasha replied instantly. [Meet me at the usual spot tonight. We can talk about it. Might even show you the new abs Ive been working on!]

I cracked a small, weary smile. Since she found out Id broken up with my girlfriend, she loved to tease me.

I headed home to pack. The moment I walked through the door, I found my father, Robert Ashworth, already sitting on the sofa.

"Dad, I"

Before I could finish, he snatched a throw pillow from the couch and threw it at my face.

"Why did you publicly undermine your mother? Why do you constantly target Connor?"

"It's just a CEO position. The name is still Ashworth. Why does it matter who sits there?"

He had already heard everything. And as expected, there was no comfort, no warmth. Only a torrent of accusation.

I took a slow, deep breath. "It's all Ashworth. Why does it matter who your son is?" I replied simply. "Let Connor call you Mom and Dad from now on." I had no energy left for a fight.

"You" My father lunged forward, his open palm cracking against my cheek. "It's because you are always so childish and disrespectful! That's why you don't deserve the CEO position!"

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood and suddenly laughed.

"Dad."

"I'm childish? I'm disrespectful?"

"Tell me, since you brought Connor home, haven't I given him everythingthe best food, the best toys, the best opportunities?"

"The private school spot, the MBA program, you gave them all to him. I even took the fall that time he hit someone with the car."

"In college, you kept me deliberately poor for 'optics,' giving me a miserable hundred dollars a week for groceries, while Connor got three thousand dollars a week in allowance."

"Did I ever rebel? Have I not been obedient enough?"

Faced with my quiet, devastating inventory, my father was struck silent.

I didn't linger. I walked into my room, quickly tossed a few belongings into a duffel bag, and prepared to leave.

"What is this? Running away?" my father called out.

There was no regret in his voice, only outrage.

I didn't answer. I just walked silently out the front door.

His final shout chased me down the driveway: "Ryan Ashworth! So you didnt get the CEO spot! Don't be so melodramatic!"

"You ungrateful, disrespectful son! If you walk out that door tonight, don't ever come back! I'll pretend I never had a son!"

Id heard those words too many times since childhood.

But there was a foolish, stubborn hope for kinship, a desire for recognition that always held me back. This time, I slammed the front door behind me.

The cold wind outside felt better than the false warmth inside that house.

I didn't have a car. My mother said it was to maintain opticsshe didn't want people to accuse her of spoiling me. My father said Connor didn't have a driver's license yet, and they didn't want him to feel bad.

I reached the curb when a high-end luxury sedan screeched to a halt beside me. The window powered down, revealing the stunning face of Sasha.

I slid into the passenger seat. "Why are you here? I thought we were meeting at the usual place?"

"The whole city knows you disowned your family," Sasha replied, pulling out into traffic.

I blinked, then opened my phone. The news feeds were already buzzing.

[Ashworth Group Discards Son, Appoints Nephew to Take Over Family Empire. Major Gala Planned for Tomorrow to Celebrate!]

[Breaking: Ryan Ashworth Chooses to Cut Ties with Parents, Reportedly Homeless!]

The gossip mill moved fast.

Seconds later, I saw texts from my parents:

[Without the Ashworth name, who will recognize you? I advise you to think carefully!]

[Don't be so selfish! Come home immediately and apologize to your mother and Connor. Beg their forgiveness. Otherwise, youll starve on the streets, and no one will bury you.]

I didn't reply. I just laughed. Starve? No one will recognize my face? We would see.

I followed Sasha into a chic, dimly lit cocktail lounge. As I looked up, a familiar silhouette came into view, and my pupils instantly constricted.

It was Tara, my childhood sweetheart, my ex-girlfriend.

At this very moment, she was nestled in Connors arms, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.

"Oh, senior," Sasha murmured, rolling her eyes. "Youre such a goof. They were hooking up the whole time they were studying abroad."

Boom. My head felt like it had been hit with a wrecking ball. I felt utterly ridiculous.

My parents had actually tried to tell me a long time ago to hand Tara over to Connor. Their absurd reason: they worried people would say they used the Ashworth power to pressure her into marrying me. I had refused violently, enduring a brutal, public shaming from my mothera deliberate cutting of resources and reputationyet I still wouldn't let go.

Later, Tara went abroad. We stayed long-distance for four years, and I paid for everything. But the day she returned, she broke up with me.

Her eyes were red when she said it. "Ryan, the pressure from your parents is too much. They will never approve of us. We have to break up. I don't want to drag you down." She blocked me everywhere.

I spent months wallowing in a confused, self-flagellating guilt, convinced I hadn't given her the security she needed.

This scene before me was a slap in the face.

Tara saw me and her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly dropped her head, but Connor forcibly grabbed her hand and pulled her over.

"Cousin Ryan."

Connor smiled, a poisonous, sickly sweet expression. "Ive been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I didn't know how to bring it up. Please don't be mad."

"Tara and I? We're true love!"

A cold fury exploded in my chest. I raised my hand to punch him. But Tara swiftly stepped in front of Connor.

"Enough, Ryan!"

"Do you have any respect for yourself as an older brother? How dare you try to hit Connor!"

I stood there, my arm trembling. "Why... why would you do this?"

Tara stayed silent for a few seconds, then replied, "Because you're a cast-off! Connor is the pride of your aunt and uncle! The future heir of the Ashworth family!"

The words hit me like a physical blow. A scythe had just hacked a piece of my heart out.

I laughed, the sound hollow.

Love. Kinship. Both utterly worthless in the face of cold, hard profit.

Sasha started to step forward to argue, but I stopped her, grabbing her arm and turning away. More words were pointless.

The only thing left was to prove with success who was stronger, who would shine brighter, and who would have the final laugh.

"Cousin."

Connor rushed up behind me. "My corporate celebration dinner is tomorrow! You simply must come." He handed me an invitation, his mouth curled into a mocking smile.

I realized then: this meeting wasn't accidental. Connor had set this up. Why else would he be carrying an invitation with him?

"Id be delighted."

I took the envelope. I walked out, a cold smile forming on my lips. As we got into Sashas car, I turned to her. "I need a favor."

"Don't worry," Sasha said, patting her chest. "Everything for tomorrow is already set."

We exchanged a look. No more words were needed. We understood each other completely.

The next day, I arrived promptly at the grand hotel where my mother was hosting Connors celebration dinner.

The guests hadn't arrived yet. My parents, Connor, and Tara were all standing together, their faces hardening when they saw me.

"Hmph."

My mother sneered. "Look how considerate Connor is. He still remembers to invite you, no matter what. And you? All you know is petty jealousy!"

"Apologize to your mother and Connor," my father added, following her lead. "We'll let yesterday go. This is your last chance to be sensible."

They werent even trying to hide their satisfaction with Connor and Tara's relationship. It seemed their 'optics' crusade was just a tool to separate Tara and me so they could secretly push her toward Connor.

"Cousin, there are no grudges that last overnight in a family. Just humble yourself," Connor mocked, his smile wide.

Tara, beside him, quickly chimed in. "They were kind enough to offer you the Deputy position, Ryan. It's a recognition of your limited abilities. You should be grateful."

I met their patronizing statements with a disdainful smile. "Who said I was here to attend the banquet?"

My parents frowned, then burst into scornful laughter, thinking I had lost my mind.

Just then, a long line of luxury cars began pulling up outside.

"Come on," my mother snapped, pushing past me. "Forget this disrespectful brat. Let's greet our guests." She led my father, Connor, and Tara to the entrance.

The citys elite had arrived. But they all stopped at the hotel door and wouldn't move inside.

My mother looked confused. "Everyone, what are you waiting for? Please come in!"

No one moved.

"They're waiting for my permission." I slowly walked to the door, placing myself at the head of the assembled crowd.