?Chapter 1657:


    The Martel residence.


    “Why did you ignore the meeting I arranged for you?” Henrik Martel’s voice carried amanding edge, the weight of expectation pressing heavily on the room.


    The moment Alban stepped through the door, he was met with this familiar, suffocating subject. His expression remained icy, betraying only quiet exhaustion. “Grandfather, I’ve been buried in work. I’m running on empty — how am I supposed to find energy for something like that?” He pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to hold onto hisposure.


    “Can’t work wait for once?” Henrik retorted, his cane tapping impatiently on the floor. “What matters more — your job, or ensuring the Martel line continues? Our family has produced only one heir per generation. Look at the Jones family. They already have four!”


    Alban released a tired breath, his tone t. “If you’re unhappy, take it up with my father, not me. His shorings are obvious whenpared to Hurley Jones.”


    “You insolent boy!” Santos Martel erupted, leaping to his feet and pointing furiously at Alban. “How dare you say that!”


    “It’s not just you, Dad,” Alban replied coolly. “None of uspare. Even Grandfather didn’t surpass his rival, Kory Jones, who managed to raise two sons.”


    Henrik was so enraged that his hand trembled near his emergency medication. He lifted his cane as if to strike. “You disgraceful child! You’re shaming the entire family — making us aughingstock!” Yet Alban’s words cut ufortably close to the truth. For generations, the Martel line had struggled to sustain itself, while the Jones family flourished with multiple descendants, including a treasured daughter. Sadly, that Jones heiress had vanished years ago, and no one knew whether she was still alive.


    Alban lowered himself heavily onto the leather sofa. “Grandfather, I’ve said this before — I have no interest in marriage. I will never marry, so you might as well give up the idea.” Even if he did marry, having children was impossible. Why drag another person into that?


    “Alban, even if you reject marriage, you should still consider having a child,” Colette Martel said softly. “If this line ends with you, your father and I will carry the guilt of failing the Martel legacy for the rest of our lives.”


    “If it ends, then let it end,” Alban said, his voice turning cold and detached. “Why cling so desperately to a name? Everything fades eventually — why torment yourselves over it?”


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    “That’s easy for you to say,” Colette countered, her anxiety rising. “But what about the Martel fortune? Are we supposed to hand it all to strangers?” This was wealth and influence built over generations. Passing it outside the family would render all their struggles meaningless.


    Henrik had already taken his heart medication. If Alban kept pushing, he feared his body might give out entirely. He and Kory Jones had battled for a lifetime — Henrik had outlived him, but now his own grandson might be the death of him. The thought of being mocked by Kory even in the afterlife only fueled his rage further.


    He mmed his cane against the floor, his temper finally breaking. “Whether you like it or not, you will marry and produce an heir. Boy or girl — it doesn’t matter, as long as Martel blood continues. After that, live as you please. I won’t interfere.” There was no room for discussion. His decision was final.


    Alban’s face remained unreadable. It wasn’t that Henrik intimidated him — he simply didn’t know how to reveal the truth. The shock might be too much for them.


    “Alban… please. I’m begging you,” Colette implored, tears glistening in her eyes.


    Drained by the relentless pressure, Alban found himself wondering how far they might go to force his hand. After a long, tense pause, he came to a quiet resolution. There was no avoiding it any longer — it was time to tell them everything.


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