What’s there to be afraid of? You’re my brother-in-law. Out of respect for your sister, I’ll make sure to treat you with all the courtesy you deserve.
Lysander’s eyes narrowed into sly slits, but he didn’t ease up.
Hugo shook his head frantically, too scared to admit anything. I… I’m not… I’m not…
Oh, I think you are, Lysander said with a mocking lilt.
Hugo hurriedly blurted out, It wasn’t me, it was Charlotte… No, no, it was me, I was out of my mind. Brother-in-law, please, have mercy on me! I swear we’ll leave Kingsford and never come back!
He used his free hand to slap himself repeatedly, clinging to Lysander’s pant leg with tears streaming down his face.
Lysander kicked him away with a dismissive snort. At least you’ve got a bit of backbone, Leonard.
Leonard responded promptly, pinning Hugo to the ground and swiftly unwinding the bandage from his head. He pulled out a camera and took detailed photos of the freshly exposed wound.
Hugo lay on the ground, clutching his head, feeling the cold air on the wound and hardly daring to breathe.
Lysander took a moment to admire the photos, then nudged Hugo’s face with his foot, speaking with deliberate slowness.
Dear brother-in-law, since you’ve made the trouble of coming to Kingsford, it’s only fitting I give you a proper welcome. So, don’t leave just yet, understand?
Hugo didn’t know what Lysander intended but nodded vigorously, still clutching his head.
At that moment, the hospital room door swung open, and Charlotte—who had fainted from blood loss—was wheeled in on a bed.
Perfect timing. You two lovebirds can recover here together. I’ll cover the medical bills.
With that, Lysander left with Leonard, clearly satisfied.
In the hospital room, Hugo lay curled up on the floor for a long time before he managed to crawl to his feet. He stumbled to Charlotte’s bedside, holding her pale face, tears flowing uncontrollably.
I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…
Overcome, Hugo fainted. The arriving doctors re-bandaged his wound and lifted him back onto a bed.
…
Soon, Adrian was shivering uncontrollably, his teeth chattering, but he didn’t dare rise.
The study door swung open.
An impeccably groomed man with silver hair, dressed in a somber black outfit, stepped out. He held a ruler in his hand and stood before Adrian.
Adrian recognized him as Butler Marshall, the loyal attendant who had served the patriarch since time immemorial.
The elder’s voice came from inside, Do you know what you did wrong?
Adrian shuddered. I failed to meet the expectations Father set for me.
Silence from inside.
Marshall spoke coolly, Young master, hold out your hand.
Adrian hesitated for a moment, but then, trembling from both cold and fear, he obediently extended his hand.