The dining hall was quiet — the kind of quiet Caius demanded. The long table stretched before him, filled with Italian and Mexican dishes, a feast arranged by people who feared getting it wrong. And they were right to fear.
Caius ate alone.
The knife moved through the steak with practiced patience, each cut deliberate, His eyes carried a dark aura. The guards stationed before him stood with their gazes fixed at their feet.
"Where is Mr. Kim?"
The question fell from his lips coldly, his tone sharp and unforgiving. He did not look up from his plate.
One of the guards swallowed hard.
"Sir, Mr. Kim will be back within an hour. He had already informed us that you would return to the mansion today after spending one night with your friend."
The cutlery stilled.
Caius rose from his chair and walked toward the guard, stopping close enough that the man could see the absolute stillness in his eyes. He bent his head to meet the guard's gaze directly.
"I just asked you where he was," his teeth clenched, "and not where I was."
His hand landed on the guard's collar. His other hand still held the knife — the same knife he had been using to cut his steak. He looked at it briefly, then back at the trembling man.
"Bring me gloves," he said, smiling like a maniac.
He released the collar and cleaned his knife slowly against the coat of the guard.
"You talk too much, isn't it?" Caius said.
The guard looked at him, his heart throwing itself against his chest, shivers traveling down his spine, his eyes turning glassy with tears.
He dropped to his knees.
"Sir — sir, please — please forgive me. Please." He begged and begged, but there was no mercy in Caius's eyes.
"Oh," he mouthed silently.
The gloves were brought to him by another guard. Caius drew them on, then put his right hand inside the mouth of the kneeling guard and pulled his tongue out.
He smirked.
With the knife, he began cutting. The guard thrashed violently, desperately trying to free himself.
"Hold him tighter," Caius ordered.
The other guard grabbed him, pinning both arms back. The knife came down harder and harder until it was done.
He was dead. On the spot.
"Clean the mess. I'm heading to my room." Caius dropped the knife and the glove onto the ground and tossed the other glove onto the face of the nearest guard. "Be careful," he said, and walked away toward his grand room.
Golden tiles covered the floor, a master bedroom attached within. The wallpaper bore his own face across the panels and everything inside was worth beyond seventy million won.
He went straight to the master bedroom and dropped himself onto the bed. Slowly, his eyes fell shut.
Half an hour later, Mr. Kim arrived.
He stepped inside the mansion and was met with pure silence — no sound of cooking, no sound of cleaning. He paused and mumbled under his breath.
"So he has come."
He went straight to Caius's room. The door was wide open. He stepped inside and looked around, but Caius was not there. Then he noticed the master bedroom door ajar and slowly walked in.
Caius was sleeping.
"Wake up," Kim said. Once. Sharp.
He didn't wake.
Kim spotted a glass of water nearby, picked it up and threw it directly onto Caius's face. Caius jolted awake, breathing harder, eyes wide and startled.
Kim crossed his arms against his chest and looked at him with a sharp gaze, silently telling him to stand up.
Caius adjusted his tie and stood straight.
"My apologies," he said.
"Drugs?" Kim's eyes didn't leave him. "That is what you were selling when you were not in front of my eyes. You were almost caught by many agencies — I already received the information."
He stepped closer.
"You are going to spoil my plan, you bloody idiot."
He screamed and a slap landed on Caius's face in the same second. Caius stood still, unable to gather what had just happened.
Kim's hand slid into his pocket, his eyes still not leaving Caius.
"I told you to find information about the Ahad agency. We don't have even a penny's worth of information about it — nothing except its name. But what were you doing, hm?"
"I—"
Another slap landed on his face. This time sharper.
"You will stay locked in your room. No food for two days. Your accounts are sealed. Your phone, your laptop, your iPad — all of it stays with me for those two days. No contact with your friends."
Kim turned and smashed the door on his way out.
Caius clenched his teeth. A scream tore out of him as he threw the LCD to the floor, crushing it under his feet, hurling everything within reach across the room.
When there was nothing left to throw, he sank to his knees.
"I hate you, Dad," he murmured.
Mr. Kim walked toward his room with heavy, bold steps, his fingers curled into fists, his face red, his breath unsteady. The anger boiling inside him had nowhere to go yet.
He reached his room. The guard stationed outside bowed slightly — and Mr. Kim's hand landed across his face without a single thought. Instant. Sharp.
"Leave," he said.
The guard left without a word. Mr. Kim watched him go, then pushed his door open and smashed it shut behind him.
He stood in the middle of the room, eyes moving restlessly — here, there, everywhere — until they dropped to the silver tiling near the washroom.
He walked over and lowered himself to the floor beside it. He sat there for a moment, quiet, then reached into his pocket and took out a key. Carefully, methodically, he worked the tile loose and placed it beside him.
In the small gap beneath the corner of the tile sat a chip — barely visible, deliberately hidden.
He picked it up and held it between his fingers.
"If I use this chip, he thought, Emris will be caught for killing people. It contains two things — his plastic surgery certificate and the doctor's video of performing it on him, and second, his fingerprints on Lia's body along with his video of killing the first girl I ordered."
He exhaled slowly and placed the chip back. Then the tile.
He stood up.
"But the secret I have been hiding will come out too," he murmured, eyes fixed on the tile at his feet. "He can demolish my reputation. And I will be in jail soon."
The room was silent around him.