Jonathan Serge Drucker only realized they were headed to Miami when he followed the middle-aged man onto the boat. The man, introducing himself as Cesar Rollin Balas, was a mid-level gang leader in the Miami area. He mentioned casually that he was in Mexico on business and had offended Bertram due to a conflict of interest. Although Cesar didn't elaborate on the nature of his business, Jonathan had a strong suspicion—it was no secret that Miami was a stronghold for the mafia.
Despite the ominous circumstances, Jonathan remained eerily calm, fueled by a bloodthirsty hatred. The journey might lead him into the depths of hell, but it would be a step toward the strength he craved to one day overthrow Bertram.
They arrived in Miami around noon the next day. Following Cesar and his men, Jonathan was taken to a location where they changed into fresh clothes. He took a moment to rebandage Cesar's wounds, feeling a sense of urgency in the task. Once prepared, they set off again.
The car stopped in front of a luxurious building with striking Thai architecture, flanked by stern-faced men in black suits and sunglasses. Jonathan surmised this must be Cesar's home.
As soon as they stepped out of the vehicle, a clear voice rang out, "Daddy, you're back!"
The voice was vibrant with anticipation and joy, and a slender girl came rushing from the house. Jonathan instinctively stepped in front of the injured Cesar, bracing for the impact. The girl collided with his chest, sending a jolt of surprise and pain coursing through him.
He frowned slightly—how could such a slight girl hit him with such force? As he looked down, he found her cradling her head, her eyes lifting to meet his. The moment she realized she had crashed into a complete stranger, her face flushed crimson.
She appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen, her short brown hair curling softly at the roots, enhancing her sweet, innocent demeanor. Her clear, porcelain-like skin glowed in the sunlight, and the pale yellow dress she wore accentuated her delicate features. Jonathan couldn't help but notice the way her cheeks reddened and her lips shyly bit down—a flower just shy of blooming.
Despite acknowledging her beauty, Jonathan quickly pushed aside any admiration; she was not his type. Memories of Catherine flickered in his mind, darkening his expression. The girl, sensing his fierce gaze, instinctively took a step back, still holding her head.
"Are you okay?" Jonathan found himself asking, his voice softer than intended.
"I... I'm fine," she stammered, her eyes wide as they darted between him and her father.
The brief exchange sent an unexpected ripple through Jonathan, stirring feelings he thought he had buried long ago. He shook his head, trying to dispel the emotion. The past clung to him like a shadow, and he couldn't afford to be distracted now—not when he was so close to exacting revenge on Bertram.
"Let's get inside," Cesar said, his voice steady as he placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "You can meet our guest properly."
Jonathan followed them inside, the girl casting a few hesitant glances back at him. He felt a strange pull, a flicker of something he hadn't felt in years, yet he forced himself to ignore it. His heart was still locked away, buried beneath layers of pain and betrayal.
But as the door closed behind them, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter—this unexpected collision—might change everything.
A young man with dark skin followed closely behind Clarisse. Seeing her bump into Jonathan, he rushed over with genuine concern. "Clarisse, are you okay?"
The girl glanced timidly at Jonathan Serge Drucker, shook her head, and lowered her hand from her forehead, visibly embarrassed.
Cesar Rollin Balas chuckled as he approached. "Come here, Clarisse, Fadrique. Let me introduce you to my savior, Jonathan Serge Drucker!"
"Jonathan, this is my daughter, Clarisse Balas, and this young man is my adopted son, Fadrique."
After the introductions, Cesar smiled broadly. "Clarisse, Fadrique, I have officially adopted Jonathan as my son. He's older than both of you, so from now on, he'll be your big brother."
Fadrique sneered, a flash of hostility in his eyes as he glared at Jonathan. Clarisse, however, was more composed and softly addressed him, "Jonathan…"
For reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint, hearing her say his name ignited a flicker of irritation in Jonathan Serge Drucker. But out of politeness, he forced a slight smile. "Hello, please take care of me in the future!"
Cesar laughed, clapping Jonathan on the shoulder. "We're family now—no need to be so formal!"
Clarisse affectionately linked her arm with Cesar's. "Daddy, why did you come back so late? I was waiting for you to celebrate my eighteenth birthday!"
Cesar playfully tapped her nose, his eyes twinkling. "How could I forget my Clarisse's birthday? Come inside; I have a special birthday present for you!"
"Okay!" Clarisse's face lit up with excitement as she led Cesar into the house.
Once inside, Cesar presented Clarisse with a necklace as her birthday gift. The pendant, a teardrop-shaped crystal, shimmered with a clarity that seemed to echo her name. Crafted by skilled artisans, it hung delicately from a platinum chain, complementing her pale skin and radiating an ethereal glow.
Cesar gently fastened the necklace around Clarisse's neck, his heart swelling with pride and love as he admired the graceful young woman before him. Yet, a wave of sorrow washed over him as he realized his time with her was limited. Years of toil and old injuries had taken a toll on his body, leaving him increasingly frail.
To mask his grief, Cesar forced a smile and playfully teased, "From now on, you can start dating! I expect to meet your boyfriend soon!"
"Daddy, what are you saying?" Clarisse blushed, a flustered smile dancing on her lips. Her shy gaze drifted toward Jonathan, who was seated nearby, an undercurrent of unease coursing through him.
At eighteen, girls were often naive and unguarded, and it didn't take much for anyone to see her feelings. Cesar felt a pang of helplessness; Fadrique looked heartbroken, and Jonathan was overwhelmed with annoyance.
The tension hung thick in the air, a mixture of familial love, budding romance, and unspoken resentments swirling around them. Jonathan couldn't shake off the feeling that this new life would be far more complicated than he ever anticipated.
To Jonathan Serge Drucker, romantic entanglements were the last thing on his mind right now. His thoughts were consumed by vengeance, fueled by memories of his past. Besides, Clarisse was not his type at all; he found her childish and somewhat ridiculous.
Despite his heartbreak, Fadrique silently presented his gift to Clarisse—a pair of exquisite, crystal high-heeled shoes. Both Fadrique and Cesar Rollin Balas viewed Clarisse as precious and pure, akin to the delicate shoes they had chosen for her.
The usually rough Fadrique knelt down to help her slip on the shoes with utmost care. Standing back up, he gently kissed her smooth forehead, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness. "Happy eighteenth birthday, beautiful princess!"
"Thank you, Fadrique! I love them!" Clarisse Balas exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy as she twirled in place, lifting her skirt. The pale yellow of her dress, paired with the delicate crystal heels, combined with her radiant smile, made her look enchanting.
Though Jonathan had been unaware it was Clarisse's birthday, he felt it polite to acknowledge the occasion. He stood, picked up his glass, and gracefully offered, "Miss Balas, happy birthday. I didn't prepare a gift in such a hurry today, but I'll make it up to you another time."
Clarisse, who had just sat down, waved her hands in a fluster, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "No, no, Jonathan, your blessing is enough! There's no need for a gift!"
Jonathan said no more, merely downing his drink before settling back down. Cesar Rollin Balas chuckled and invited everyone to start eating.
As the meal progressed, Clarisse looked up with admiration upon hearing Jonathan was studying medicine. "Wow, Jonathan is studying medicine? It's wonderful to be able to save lives!"
She then pouted, directing an annoyed glance at Cesar Rollin Balas. "When I was choosing my major, I wanted to study nursing, but Daddy wouldn't let me. He said it was a servant's job and made me study early childhood education instead, which I have no interest in!"
Fadrique chimed in, "Why should a girl take on such a tiring job as a nurse? Our godfather was just thinking of what's best for you!"
Clarisse huffed, sticking her tongue out at Fadrique before lowering her head to continue eating, clearly unwilling to engage further.
What no one knew was that for Clarisse Balas, the best gift of her eighteenth birthday was Jonathan Serge Drucker himself. Growing up surrounded by violence, she had grown accustomed to the rough, fierce men in her life. But this clean, gentle man in a white shirt had captured her heart at once.
His clean, pleasant scent lingered in the air, the wisdom in his eyes spoke volumes even in silence, and the graceful curve of his lips when he smiled was mesmerizing. His deep, dark eyes reminded her of a still pond—calm and inviting.
This was the kind of man she had always admired: someone untouched by darkness and chaos, exuding an aura of calm and wisdom that offered light and warmth.
Little did she know that one day, this seemingly warm man would shatter her world completely. Nor could she foresee that appearing in his life when he despised love would doom her to a fate of endless suffering.