"Wag your tail and roll over until I tell you to stop, Dante."
Amidst the subtle music going on inside the Ward family house, an elderly man with balding head filled with gray hair, barked at a young man in his twenties.
Dante Wynn, the Ward family's mad son-in-law, was the spectacle of the evening.
He was on all four at first before he got the order and rolled onto his bag, wagging his rear seriously with his mouth wide open.
As the head of the Ward family, his grandfather-in-law had spent the entire afternoon using him to entertain guests well into the night.
At a corner, a young waitress in her mid-twenties paused several times while serving drinks, watching the scene with misty eyes.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" An irritated man suddenly lashed out when her tray met his arm, roughly shoving her aside.
She fell to the side, the drinks tumbling down from her tray and spilling all over her before the cups shattered against the floor.
A knot instantly formed in her stomach and she hurriedly dropped to her knees when Alaric's gaze happened to shift toward her.
In her haste to hide, she carelessly grabbed a shard of glass which immediately sliced her thumb.
Thankfully, she noticed the cut on time and immediately pulled her hand back, so the wound was only a scratch.
Her slight commotion as she apologized with her head lowered wasn't enough to attract attention, especially as Dante's sudden giggling caught everyone's attention once again.
She paused, lifting her eyes toward him to see a drool sliding down the corner of his lips as he called out to Alaric excitedly.
"Look, Grandfather-in-law! I can do more than just roll over now!"
Following this, he promptly got on all fours again, wiggled his rear hard then abruptly lowered his mouth to the floor, and began licking it.
At the sight, several guests gagged, some laughing while others turned away in disgust.
But Dante raised his eyes to their wide grins, his warped mind mistaking their mockery and laughter for that of admiration.
Encouraged, he bent over and repeated the action.
This time, the laughter was louder, so he did it again. And again. Until everyone in the vicinity gathered to watch the 'retard' mop the floor with his tongue.
"This is the best party ever!"
"Never thought I'd see a human act like a dog so upclose."
"Once this is over, I'm writing all about Alaric Ward and how he knows how to entertain his guests at party!"
Listening to a bunch of rich scions praise him, the elderly man leaned back on his seat, grinning in satisfaction.
After a while, he turned to the person beside him who hadn't said a word the entire time.
It was a middle-aged man in a black suit with a hat over his head.
With both hands folded across his chest and head whipped away from Dante, he didn't need to say a word for Alaric to know he was far from impressed.
Nevertheless, Alaric chuckled and pushed his luck, "Someone who acts like a dog, imagine how good he would be with the real ones, Mr. Heffley."
At this, Gordon Heffley's eyes shifted to him, then to Dante.
Though more than three decades younger than Alaric, the elderly man grew nervous thinking he had done something wrong.
But the next second, "What else can he do?"
Hearing Gordon's voice, Alaric's stiff smile faltered and he spoke hesitantly, "This dog our Ward family acquired, thanks to my granddaughter, is dafter than most, but he does know a few tricks."
To prove his point, he straightened up and commanded Dante loudly, "Roll onto your back, lift both hands and feet, then open your mouth and pant like a hungry dog."
Even before the words finished, Dante was on his back again, mimicking what he had seen from the hundreds of hours of dog videos he had seen.
Instantly, a small smile broke across Gordon's face and Alaric silently exhaled in relief.
After weeks of trying, he had finally secured this meeting with Gordon, a philanthropist known for his deep interest in dogs.
The Ward family hadn't made a worthwhile sale in over a year, and it was no secret that Gordon was seeking a new shelter for his dogs.
With the number of dogs he owned in Elmwood, he needed at least a thousand acres of land to house such a large number of dogs.
A purchase like that, no doubt, would run into tens of millions.
But the Ward family had long lost their influence ever since wealthier families moved in over two decades ago.
Thus, their real estate company had declined rapidly over the years.
This was his best chance to turn things around for the first time in years, so he was working very hard to make the sales.
So, after thinking hard, he suddenly stood and yanked the long leash around Dante's neck.
He tugged it so hard the man yelped in pain and fell flat on his face.
Forgetting he was still on all fours, he frantically reached for thr collar only to fall face flat again.
Ignoring his plight, Alaric bowed slightly to Gordon and strode forward, dragging the leash, "Mr. Heffley, watch how good this dog can be."
Realizing something else was about to go down, the crowd's attention shifted toward them.
"My children and grandchildren couldn't attend tonight, but to ease the boredom, I will now have my my Ward family's useless son-in-law perform a trick." Alaric stood in the center of the room and announced, all smiles.
Once he had the crowd's attention, he whispered into a waiter's ear.
Moments later, the waiter returned with a covered tray.
When the lid was lifted, the several kitchen knives inside reflected with the light.
Still all smiles, Alaric reached for three then stepped backward to explain the rule of the game, "So, this dog and I will be playing a game you all know: jump and catch."
The crowd stilled.
Jump and catch… with knives?
Dante shrank back in fear.
Despite being taught he was a dog, even he recognized danger when he saw one.
However, Alaric leaned down and sneered to his hearing, "Don't you dare move, otherwise, you'll be spending your night outside the house."
Dante sucked in a deep breath, his eyes watering slightly as he lowered them sadly.
As Alaric summoned more guests to gather for the spectacle, the waitress from earlier was being harassed in the kitchen.
The kitchen staff looked on but pretended not to see anything as she was rammed against a wall by three women her age.
"Eh, this is Selene Ward? She looks so good in these clothes I didn't even realize it was her."
"I expected to see her in a white psychiatric uniform, not this. Didn't she try to end her life the other day?"
"Don't be rude. She's a married woman now. Even if her husband is in the party believing he's a dog, at least her marriage certificate says she's married."
The three girls shoved her around for a while before two pinned her against the wall and the other raised a hand to strike her across the face when…
"What are you doing here? The Ward family's dog is about to play jump and catch with knives!"
Hearing the shout from the hallway, the girls quickly released Selene and rushed out of the kitchen.
Left alone, Selene Ward slid down the wall until she dropped to her knees.
Blinking back her tears, her right hand flew to her chest, gripping it tightly.
Maybe… she should just claw at her throat until she stopped breathing.
It was way uglier than she thought she would go, but at least she'd go…
She had just made peace with the thought and shut her eyes when the excited shrieks of the guests reached her ears.
Dante…
Her eyes flew open in a frenzy the moment she realized what was going on.
Briefly forgetting her intent, she scrambled to her feet and rushed into the living room, arriving just on time to see Alaric lift the knife to toss at Dante.
"G-grandfather, please stop!"
He only paused for a moment before his eyes darkened. "What is a waitress doing out here without drinks?"
Already expecting such treatment, her hands beside her slowly curled into a small fist as she stepped out into the open.
"Please, don't do it, Grandfather. You could injure him or worse, kill him."
"I play darts every day. I'm sure I can toss a simple knife into the air for your dog husband to catch!" Annoyed, he angrily ended the conversation and hurled the first knife immediately.
One second, Dante Wynn leapt into the air to catch it with his teeth. The next, Selene Ward was in front of him, the blade plunging right into her abdomen.
Behind her, Dante froze, his pupils trembling at the sight.
His eyes were fixed on the crimson liquid gushing from her body as she struggled to breathe for a moment before his pupils dilated.
Turning his palm over, he raised the dirty palm toward the sky, confusion etched into his feature.
What was this?
The nation was so unstable… what was he doing in a socialite's party instead of being at the war front?