Alexander's POV
The drive to Everthorne Mansion felt far too slow.
I sat in the back seat while Sebastian maneuvered the car through traffic, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. The city lights blurred past the windows, but my attention remained fixed on the conversation from earlier.
Raziel should be dead.
The old man's words kept repeating inside my head.
Beside the front passenger seat, Sebastian swerved past another vehicle before pressing down harder on the accelerator.
"I still don't understand why he couldn't explain it over the phone," I muttered.
Sebastian glanced briefly at me through the rearview mirror.
"Maybe he didn't want anyone listening."
I frowned.
"Then he should have used a secure line."
Sebastian dodged another car before shaking his head.
"No, master. I think it's something else."
"What?"
His expression darkened.
"I think he's scared."
The answer made my jaw tighten.
Scared?
The old man had served my family for decades. Very few things could frighten him.
I looked out the window.
"Drive faster."
Sebastian immediately pressed down harder on the accelerator.
The engine roared.
*
The Everthorne Mansion
Within minutes, the familiar gates of Everthorne Mansion appeared ahead.
The moment the car stopped, I stepped out and headed toward the entrance.
Before I could reach the stairs, the front door opened.
My grandmother walked out.
The sight of her instantly eased some of the tension in my chest.
"Alexander."
A warm smile spread across her face as she opened her arms.
I walked forward and allowed her to pull me into a hug.
She kissed my cheek gently before holding my face between both hands.
"You never visit anymore."
A faint smile touched my lips.
"You say that every time."
"And it's true every time."
She lightly pinched my cheek.
"You used to spend every weekend here."
I laughed softly.
"That was years ago."
She studied my face for a moment before clicking her tongue.
"You were such a pretty boy."
Sebastian immediately lowered his head to hide his amusement.
My grandmother sighed dramatically.
"Now look at you. Always frowning. You're becoming ugly."
I couldn't help laughing.
For the first time all day, some of the heaviness lifted from my shoulders.
My grandmother smiled proudly before leading me inside.
A few moments later, she placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate into my hands.
The rich scent immediately brought back memories.
I stared at the cup and shook my head.
"You still make this."
"Of course I do."
Her smile softened.
"You always loved it."
I took a sip. The taste was exactly the same.
For a brief moment, I felt like a child again.
My grandmother watched me carefully then her expression changed slightly.
"Your old man has been pacing around the library all day. He keeps asking whether you've arrived yet."
I lowered the cup.
"He seemed worried?"
Her eyes lingered on me.
"Very worried."
A brief silence followed.
Then she reached over and squeezed my hand gently.
"Whatever it is, be careful."
I returned the squeeze.
"I always am."
She smiled, though concern remained hidden behind her eyes.
After finishing the hot chocolate, I stood and headed toward the elevator with Sebastian following beside me.
The doors slid shut.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Sebastian exhaled slowly.
"I'll be honest, master."
I glanced at him.
"I'm nervous."
A humorless smile touched my lips.
"Be nervous for two."
Sebastian chuckled.
I almost smiled, then the elevator chimed and the doors opened. The smile vanished immediately.
Together, we walked down the hallway toward the library.
The moment I pushed open the door, I saw him.
The old man had indeed been pacing.
The instant he noticed us, he stopped moving and practically collapsed into a nearby chair.
The relief on his face was obvious.
Sebastian and I took our seats across from him.
Nobody spoke at first.
The silence stretched longer than usual.
Finally, the old man cleared his throat.
His hands were clasped tightly together as though he were trying to steady himself.
"Alexander..."
I waited.
His eyes lowered briefly then he spoke.
"Your grandfather believed Raziel's family had something to do with your mother's disappearance."
The words struck me harder than expected.
I sat perfectly still.
"What?"
The old man nodded slowly.
"It happened years ago. Your grandfather reopened the investigation shortly before his death."
My chest tightened.
"Why wasn't I told?"
"You were very young."
I clenched my jaw.
The old man sighed.
"I never saw the evidence myself. Your grandfather was moving quickly and keeping everything secret, but I remember how convinced he sounded."
The room felt strangely colder.
"He believed they were involved?"
"Yes."
I stared at him.
The old man looked away.
"He said he finally found a lead after years of searching."
My fingers tightened around the armrest.
"And then?"
The old man's face darkened.
"He died."
Silence filled the library. Even Sebastian had gone completely still.
The old man continued quietly.
"After his death, some of his most loyal supporters wanted revenge. They believed Raziel's family was responsible."
A knot formed inside my stomach.
"They planned to execute them."
Sebastian cursed softly under his breath.
The old man nodded.
"Before they could act, Raziel's family fled the country."
I leaned forward.
"Where did they go?"
His expression tightened.
"No one knew at first. It took months before word finally reached us."
My heartbeat quickened.
"What word?"
The old man swallowed.
"When they arrived in another country, they somehow offended a powerful family."
The room became silent again.
Then he continued.
"A short time later, the entire family was found dead."
I froze.
Sebastian stared at him.
The old man wrapped both arms around himself.
"The authorities ruled it a murder-suicide."
A chill crawled down my spine.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The old man looked genuinely shaken now.
His eyes moved toward the photograph still displayed on my phone.
Then he slowly shook his head.
"I fear this is a bad omen."
My gaze sharpened.
"What do you mean?"
The old man's voice dropped to barely above a whisper.
"Because if those reports were true..."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"...then Raziel died with the rest of his family."
The room seemed to shrink around me.
I looked down at the photograph again.
The man in the beige suit stared back from the screen with calm eyes and a familiar face that belonged to a boy I once called my best friend.
A slow chill crept through my body.
If Raziel truly died all those years ago...
Then who exactly was sitting at the head of the Five Foes?