A smell of cigarette in his dead mother's room? Had his mother being harboring someone in the house before her transfer to the hospital or somewhere in-between?
Rhysand stirred out of bed, gently placing the frame on the nightstand beside him. Tracing the point where the smoke was coming from, he reached the kitchen which is just few paces to the left and close to the entrance of the apartment.
"Bloody hell!"
His eyes flashed with a mix of shock and anger.
"Hello, son. You're awake." The man in black tuxedo who had been staring outside the kitchen window said as he turned around, the smell from the cigarette he was smoking thickening as it occupied the apartment.
The man was no stranger to Rhysand himself. He just never expected to find him in his mother's apartment. Not after he had been divorced with his mother. Not after what he had done to him. Not after his mother's death.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Kruger?" asked the impatient Rhysand.
Rhysand's gaze locked onto Kruger's face, his eyes narrowing as a sly smile curled up the man's lips. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tensing as if he was restraining himself from lashing out just yet. The urge to punch the smile off Kruger's face was almost overwhelming as his hands instinctively curl into fists.
Kruger handed him the bouquet of flowers he had brought. "I brought flowers, son," he said with a wider smile. "Maria was one of a kind—"
Thwack!
A meaty thud from Rhysand's thrown fist landed on Kruger's face, finally rubbing the smile off his face and causing him to stagger a bit with the cigarette flying, and the flower in his hand, almost dropping to the ground.
"Stop fucking calling me that Kruger. I'm not your son," Rhysand spat, his brow narrowed as his eyes blazed fury. The air seemed to vibrate with his anger. "My mother doesn't need any of your condolences."
"Woah," Kruger exclaimed truthfully, holding his now crimson face as his nose began to bleed. "That hurts. That really hurts. What a man you've become."
Kruger's regained stamina as his hands wiped away the blood from his nose. Picking another cigarette from his inner pocket and lighting it he said, "I had been contacted by the hospital following your mother's death. Turned out she hadn't gotten over me in years," again, a cruel smile followed his speech. "I had thought to myself. Perhaps, your mother's death would help rebuild our broken bonds somehow."
Rhysand jaw tightened harder. His mother was still in contact with him after all this years? why?
With a swift, Rhysand's hand sliced through the flowers in Kruger's hands, shattering them like shards to the floor.
"You don't have to look mad, Conrad. I knew it was you who had been behind her recovery at the hospital, but someone needed to step in as her next of kin especially after you had left her to rot in here all by herself. She was dying and had called me. She had no choice," Kruger's words felt right but his sly smile only infuriated Rhysand the more. "I think I deserve some—"
"What? Accolades?" Rhysand's cut him off. "Praises?"
"And since when did you turn an ingrate, Conrad?" Kruger's voice dropped to a glacial tone, but Rhysand's expression remained unyielding. Kruger's eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching for a flicker of uncertainty, but Rhysand's gaze held steady. "It's been twelve years and not even a single hug for your ex-stepfather?" Kruger's tone shifted, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "How... unfair?" The word lingered in the air, heavy with mockery.
"Screw you, Kruger!"
Rhysand's voice cracked with raw emotions, his eyes flashing with a deep-seated anger. The words tore from his lips like a challenge, his jaw clenched in a visible effort to restrain the torrent of emotions that threatened to erupt.
Kruger's eyes gleamed with condescension as he leaned back, his voice dripping with false modesty. "Really, Conrad? I have helped you be who you are today..." His gaze swept over Rhysand, a patronizing smile twisting his lips. "...and all I get is this?" The words hung in the air, laced with indignation and expectation.
"Helped me? How exactly did you fucking help me, Kruger? You fucking ruined my life. You're a fucking monster."
Kruger inhaled the fag as it stood clenched between his fingers before blowing into the air.
"You had done a job so good, so spectacular as a first timer but it's unfortunate you didn't stay around long enough to reap what you've sown. You had left with just that token I had given you, forsaking the real blessings that had come with your job."
"Shut the fuck up, Kruger," Rhysand's said through gritted teeth.
"Laura had wanted to meet you. To bless you for the job well done. But you had vanished—"
"I said that's enough, Kruger," Rhysand's anger was literally boiling over but Kruger knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how soft hearted Rhysand can be and wouldn't hesitate to hurt him with it, reminding him of his past—of who he used to be—of his weakness. "Screw you and Laura. I don't give a flying fuck about none of that."
Knowing the implications of Rhysand's fisted hands by his side and knowing what his anger could do, Kruger only heaved a sigh, putting his mouth to rest. He clearly can't stand being turned into a punching bag right in front of his own eyes. Not with Rhysand's towering height. Not without his men or goons around him to help him if that ever happens.
Rhysand inched closer to him, standing face-to-face. "You will pay for what you did to me, Kruger. I swear on my dead mother's grave that I will hunt you down and make you pay for it and not even the most powerful or influential or even Laura you rely on will be able to save you. I will be there to watch while you rot in jail. You and that bitch called Laura."
Even though Rhysand's height felt quite intimidating to Kruger, he couldn't help but let out a sheepish laughter that was laced with mockery in everyway. "Says a once upon a time murderer," his laughter lingered. "You and I are same, Conrad. Why not embrace who you are?"
"I'm nothing like you, Kruger. You are vile, dishonest and pathetic. You lie, using young, innocent and helpless boys for your selfish interest, promising them a future while you snatch every ounce of humanity left in them. You and I are not same and never will, Kruger!" Rhysand's jaw clenched harder.