After dinner, Robert stood on the balcony, his violin under his chin, playing a haunting melody under the pale moonlight. The wind caught his black hair, billowing around his strikingly handsome face, his features sharp and mesmerizing. Each note he played seemed to carry a piece of his soul, filling the night air with an enchanting sound.
Silver stepped outside, her ponytail swaying gently as she tilted her head to gaze at the full moon. The serene scene, combined with Robert's music, created an atmosphere of timeless beauty. Below, the workers paused, their tools falling silent as they listened, captivated by the spellbinding music.
In the library, Diablo leaned back in his chair, his cigar smoke curling lazily around him. He took a deep, relaxing puff, letting the music wash over him and ease his mind.
Meanwhile, Robert's father stood in his house office, the strains of the violin reaching his ears. He walked over to the window, gazing out with a mix of pride and melancholy. Overwhelmed by emotion, he crushed the cup of whiskey in his hand, the glass shattering and the liquid dripping onto the floor.
Diablo entered the office, immediately noticing the shattered glass on the floor. Concern etched on his face, he bent down to pick up the pieces. "Are you alright?" he asked Kruger, his voice steady but filled with worry.
Kruger, sitting behind his desk, dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. "Summon Robert fast," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Diablo nodded and quickly exited the office to carry out the order.
Meanwhile, Robert was in his room, the weight of the evening still heavy on his mind. He sensed Dolores behind him even before she spoke. "How's your training going?" he asked without turning.
"I've made some progress," she replied, her voice a blend of pride and curiosity. They exchanged a few words, discussing her training and the challenges she faced.
Robert nodded. "Diablo will be here any minute. Let's meet at the café on the corner of Ethen Street later." Dolores smiled and vanished as if she had never been there.
A knock echoed through the room. Diablo entered, glancing around briefly. Robert, maintaining his serious tone, asked, "Anything you need?"
Diablo thought, I'm sure I heard two people talking, but he ignored the thought and focused on his task. "Your presence is requested, young master," he said, passing on Kruger's urgent summons.
Robert stood firmly before his father, the weight of their conversation palpable. " you need to prepare, you will be joining the Knight Academy soon. As soon as you become the heir to Argent Technologies, people will be after your life for our fortune and the secrets of our inventions."
Robert nodded, then hesitated before speaking. "Father, I think Silver should run the company. She's more than capable."
Kruger, shook his head, his expression hardening. "A lady can't be a good leader," he replied dismissively.
Robert chuckled softly, shaking his head. "There are big companies run by women all around the globe."
Kruger's eyes narrowed, his tone growing stern. "It's not about capability. It's about tradition and perception. Argent Technologies stands on its legacy. Silver may be talented, but some roles are meant to be upheld by tradition."
The tension in the room thickened, the legacy of Argent Technologies pressing down on both of them.
Kruger is a deeply conflicted and tormented character. The loss of his wife during Robert's birth left a permanent scar on his heart, a wound that never truly healed. This tragedy hardened him, turning his grief into a cold, unyielding demeanor. He directed his pain and anger towards Robert, blaming him, albeit irrationally, for the loss of his beloved wife.
Kruger's focus shifted entirely to the company, Argent Technologies, which became his obsession. He poured all his energy and attention into maintaining and growing the business, often at the expense of his relationship with his children. His interactions with Robert were marked by harshness and a lack of affection, driven by a misguided belief that this would toughen him up for the challenges ahead.
Despite his outward indifference, there was a part of Kruger that was deeply conflicted. He cared for his children in his own way, but his inability to express love and warmth created a chasm between them. His concern for the company's legacy overshadowed any paternal instincts, making him appear more like a stern guardian of tradition than a loving father.
Kruger's character is a study in contrasts—driven by duty and legacy, yet haunted by personal loss and emotional turmoil. His inability to reconcile these aspects of his life makes him a tragic and complex figure.
Robert walked out of the office, his father's decision echoing in the back of his mind, though he remained largely unconcerned. The weight of the expectations set upon him felt distant and almost irrelevant. His strides were steady but not rushed as he made his way back to his room.
Ever since he had acquired that mysterious ability, a fatigue had settled over him, gnawing at his energy. Each step seemed to demand more effort than it used to. The hallway stretched out before him, dimly lit, each flickering light casting elongated shadows on the walls.
Reaching his room, he could feel the weariness in his bones, a deep exhaustion that was becoming all too familiar.
The next morning, Silver burst into Robert's room with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm. She shook his body playfully. "Wake up, sleepyhead! We're going out today," she announced with a grin.
Robert groggily opened his eyes, still half in the realm of dreams. Silver had already strewn several outfits across his bed, her energy in stark contrast to his sleepy state. "Look at this purple one," she said, holding up a deep purple shirt with intricate silver embroidery along the collar and cuffs. She joked, "You'd look like a royal peacock in this—so perfect for you!"
As Robert sat up, folding his legs under him, he cast a serious look in her direction, watching her antics with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You really enjoy dressing me up, don't you?" he commented dryly.
Silver shot him a mock serious look, "Someone has to save you from your tragic fashion sense."
Robert glanced at the wall clock, noting the time. "Seriously, eight in the morning?" he said in a calm, measured voice, clearly still adjusting to the early hour.
Silver just laughed, her infectious energy filling the room as she continued to plan their day.