Jonathan's sleek, black DBS glided smoothly through the massive gates of the Blacksmith Estate. The guards stationed at the entrance saluted him as he drove by. Jonathan ignored them, his eyes fixed on the mansion ahead.
As he pulled up to the mansion, Jonathan's gaze fell upon the imposing structure. The entire facade was painted a gleaming black, which seemed to absorb the fading light of day. Jonathan's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as memories he'd rather forget came flooding back.
Taking a deep breath, Jonathan pushed aside the emotions threatening to surface. He stepped out of the car, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he ignored the greetings of the maids and guards. His long strides carried him toward the mansion's entrance, his presence commanding attention.
The massive wooden doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior that seemed to whisper secrets of the past. Jonathan's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and determination. He was here for a reason, and he wouldn't let the painful memories of his past get in the way.
"This way master, lord vincenzo has been waiting for you," one of the butlers said, his tone neutral, as he directed him the the dining room
Jonathan's gaze lingered on him for a moment, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. He nodded curtly, his long strides carrying him toward the dining room. The butler followed, pushing open the massive wooden doors to reveal the opulent space within.
As the doors swung open, Don's voice cut through the air, his tone dripping with sarcasm and malice. "You're late."
Jonathan expression twisted in a scoff as he stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a mixture of disdain and contempt. His gaze landed on Victor, his cousin, who sat at the table with a smug smile. which changed Jonathan expression, as his jaw clenched in anger. What was Victor doing here? He hadn't been invited, and his presence only served to fuel Jonathan's growing irritation.
Jonathan's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications of Victor's presence. He took a deep breath, his anger simmering just below the surface. His gaze finally shifted to Don Vincenzo, and his expression darkened further.
"I'm here," Jonathan said, his voice low and even, devoid of any apology or courtesy. The words were laced with a subtle venom, a clear indication that he was only there because he had to be.
He walked towards the table, his eyes locked on Don, his presence commanding attention. Victor, seated beside Don, smiled smugly, but Jonathan ignored him.
Don's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly at Jonathan's abruptness. "You're late," he repeated, his tone laced with malice.
Jonathan's expression didn't change. He didn't acknowledge the jab, instead taking his seat at the table with an air of quiet confidence.
Don's eyes locked onto Jonathan's, a silent power struggle unfolding between them. The air was thick with tension as the two men sized each other up.
Victor, seated beside Don, smiled to himself, clearly enjoying the tension. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he broke the silence.
"Shall we begin?" Victor asked, his voice dripping with mocking amusement.
Don's gaze lingered on Jonathan for a moment before he nodded curtly. "Yes. Let's get down to business."
The butler, who had been standing by the door, stepped forward, as he began to pour wine with precise, elegant movements. Jonathan's eyes never left Don's face, his expression a mask of calm, calculated intensity.
As the butler finished pouring the wine, Don leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "I trust you're all aware of why we're here today?"
Jonathan's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to bore into Don's soul. "I'm here because I was summoned," he said, his voice low and even. "I don't have time for games, Father. State your business."
Don Vincenzo leaned back in his chair, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I've been considering the future of our empire, and I've come to the realization that it's time for a change. Victor, here, has shown remarkable potential and ambition. I believe it's time we give him more... responsibilities."
Jonathan's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in anger. "What are you talking about, Father?"
Don's smile grew wider. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, You see, I've been thinking... Thane, sometimes I regret giving the Overlord title to you. You are weak, just like—"
But before Don could finish his sentence, a maid serving them foods clumsily poured wine on Victor's clothes. Victor's eyes widened in rage as he pushed the maid, sending her crashing to the floor. The maid's head hit the glass pavement with a sickening crack, and she began to bleed profusely.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! I'm so sorry!" the maid apologized, her voice shaking with fear.
Victor's face twisted in a snarl as he continued to rant at the maid. "You'll never be able to afford a suit like this, you pathetic little slave." he said hitting her
Jonathan's eyes flashed with anger, but he remained seated, his expression cold and calculating. However, as Victor's words cut deeper, Jonathan's composure began to slip. Memories of his mother, beaten and bruised by his father's cruelty, flooded his mind. He saw her, lying on the floor, her eyes pleading for mercy as his father kicked her repeatedly.
The maid's cries for mercy brought Jonathan back to the present. He saw Victor, his face twisted in a cruel smile, as he kicked the maid again.
Something inside Jonathan snapped, his eyes blazing with fury. "Stop it, Victor," he said, his voice cold and calm.
Victor turned to him, a sneer on his face. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice.
Jonathan repeated himself, standing up slowly, his voice steady. "Stop it. She already apologized. Stop hitting her."
Victor scoffed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Does it bother you that I hit her?" he asked, his voice mocking. "Does it bother you that I kick her?" He kicked the maid again, his eyes never leaving Jonathan's face. "She's a slave, and a slave is who she's forever going to be."
The words were like a spark to gasoline. Jonathan's anger ignited, and he pulled out a gun from his pocket. With a calm, calculated precision, he shot Victor three times in the shoulder.
Victor's screams of pain filled the air as he stumbled backwards, clutching his shoulder. Don Vincenzo's face turned white with shock, his eyes fixed on Jonathan in horror.
Jonathan's expression remained calm, his eyes cold and calculating. "I can be calm, very calm," he said, his voice steady. "But don't push it too far, Father. Else you'll be getting the bullet next."
With that, Jonathan turned and walked out of the dining room, leaving Victor's screams of pain and Don's shocked expression behind.
******
Emilia walked away from Gabriel's house, the sting of his words still fresh in her mind. As she turned the corner, she spotted a small park and made her way towards it. She found a bench and sat down, tears streaming down her face as she thought about her parents.
After a while, her phone chimed, breaking the silence. Emilia pulled it out and saw a message from Katherine: "Hey babe, you home? I just called it a day at the restaurant, so.... frustrating. I'll call you as soon as I get home."
Emilia's eyes widened as she checked the time - 7:45 pm. She quickly wiped her face and hurriedly left the park, hoping to make it back to the penthouse before Jonathan did.
Emilia slipped into the penthouse through the back entrance, located at the garden. She moved quietly, trying not to make a sound as she made her way to her room's balcony. She expected to see the makeshift rope she had created by tying the bedsheets together, but it wasn't there.
"Shit," Emilia muttered under her breath. She knew she'd have to enter the penthouse through the front door now.
With a sigh, Emilia made her way to the front door and stepped inside. She took a few steps before she heard his cold, detached voice.
"Where were you, Emilia?"