"It's because of Max, Papa. Maxen… is a son of a member of that organization. Maxen's father's surname is a Devilsin."
Conrad's mind went blank, looking back at Cosette blankly. His grip on the armrest tightened, trying to make sense of what just his daughter said.
"Maxen… is a son of a notorious felon?" he breathed out while Cosette pressed her lips into a thin line. "That international organization Devilsin?"
Cosette nodded while biting her inner lower lip. She wasn't surprised her father knew about it. Who doesn't? The people in the upper echelon knew things that weren't known to other people. After all, the world of the rich… was a dangerous place. They could do anything with money and greed involved.
Rich people… those in the underground world were part of this society.
"How strange…" Conrad whispered, tapping his fingertips against the armrest lightly. "... how this world seemed to be so vast yet so small."
"Papa, are you going to kick Maxen out?" she asked worriedly, watching Conrad look back at her ever so slowly.
"Naturally."
"But…" she clutched her hand, having seen this coming. Her father, although kind and considerate, was also a logical man. There was no way Conrad would let Maxen stay with them after knowing what sort of people would be coming for Maxen. It may not happen now, but it would eventually happen.
"Maxen is our family." Cosette breathed out sharply. "Shouldn't we protect him?"
"Cosette, why did you bring up hiring someone to fix this?" asked Conrad calmly, waiting for her reply, which didn't come. "That's right, Cosette. You are a smart young lady. That's why you also know the only way to protect Maxen is to get blood in your hands."
"So you will kick him out?"
"Why?" He fluttered his eyelashes as a glint flickered across them. "Will you threaten me that you'll leave home with him?"
"No." Cosette shook her head and held his sharp gaze again. "You said it yourself, Papa. I am a smart young lady. Eloping with Maxen is stupid since I won't have the money to support myself, let alone protect Maxen and myself."
She paused, raising her chin up. "If you kicked Maxen out, I will be sad, but I won't blame you, Papa. You did it for me, and I'm not so narrowminded as not to be grateful for your intentions. However, I will do everything… to protect Maxen. I won't allow those people… who abandoned him, only to return for whatever twisted and selfish reason to do whatever they want."
There was a moment of silence between the father and daughter as they looked at each other. His jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, gripping the armrest before loosening his grip.
"Rest for tonight," he said, breaking the prolonged silence between them. "I will think about this for now. Don't do anything silly."
Cosette gulped and nodded. "Alright. I understand."
With that being said, Cosette stood and greeted him 'goodnight,' before walking away. She stopped by the door and looked back when Conrad spoke.
"About Maxen and that organization…" he trailed off, studying Cosette's face. "... don't tell it to anyone, especially not a word to the Quinns."
"The Quinns?"
"Mhm."
"Alright…? I don't plan on telling anyone, anyway." She rocked her head, looking back at him once more to see if he had more things to tell her. When Conrad waved, Cosette bid him goodnight again and left his study.
Silence immediately overtook the study room after the faint click of the door resonated. Conrad kept his eyes on the shut door, still tapping his fingers against the armrest.
"Sin…" he whispered, pushing himself up. Conrad walked towards the stand where the decanter and the empty glass were placed. He poured himself a glass and picked it up, shoving his hand inside his pocket.
Conrad stood in front of the window, staring at the garden silently. Swirling the wine in his hand, he reviewed his conversation with Cosette just now. For Cosette, it was obvious that Conrad was familiar with the organization's name as the Blac had an influence on politics, because of Conrad's association with some politicians.
But she didn't know Conrad knew about that organization personally.
"He must've probably taken after his mother," he muttered. "Right… Maynard had met Maxen."
A glint flickered across his eyes as he recalled that time they bumped into Maynard in the restaurant. "He'll kill Maxen if he knows he is that guy's son."
Conrad raised the glass of wine to his lips. 'I should've killed them both in the past if I knew this would implicate my daughter.'
He hissed as the wine traveled down his throat, walking back to the shelf in the corner. Conrad tipped a book and carried it to his desk. Placing the glass of wine on the desk, Conrad leaned back as he stared at the book's cover. It was old, but because of Conrad's personality, it was maintained well.
He slowly opened the book with his thumb, finding a certain page. When he stopped, he opened the book, only to see an old photograph from twenty-six years ago. He carefully took it out, raising it for him to look at this old photograph.
In the photo were three men in their school uniform, taken at the gates of the school. The one standing on the side was Conrad, bearing the same aloof demeanor, looking straight at the camera, unsmiling.
And then the person on the other side had this mischievous grin and a bandaid on his cheek. His pose was flexing his shoulders like a bodybuilder. This guy… Maynard Quinn was just as mischievous and annoying as he was back in the day.
Conrad's eyes then fell on the student squatting down in the middle. The guy had this straight hair past his ears, sporting a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. Among the three, one could tell their roles in this friend: the hot-tempered Maynard, the silent and rational Conrad, and then that one… the kindest.
"Rocco…" he whispered, staring at the guy in the middle with deep regret. "... life was funny, wasn't it? You were the kindest, yet you turned into a monster."
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