Chapter 45: 45
The old man settled into the couch beside Carmela, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and calculation. "My granddaughter-in-law looks pretty," he remarked, his tone deceptively casual. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had a hidden agenda. "There must be something special about you to make my grandson visit," he added, his words laced with a chuckle that Carmela echoed, though I found nothing amusing in his statement.
"If you’re done interrogating my wife, perhaps you’d let her rest? Our journey was far from pleasant," I said, gently pulling Carmela to her feet and leading her towards the door. My grandfather’s kindness always came with strings attached, and I was wary of his true intentions.
The butler was waiting just outside "The butler will show you to our room," I whispered to Carmela, who nodded in understanding.
"You act as if I’m going to bite," the old man called out as I closed the door behind her.
"We both know you can do more than just bite, and that’s why I’m here," I replied, taking the seat across from him. He settled back into his chair, a shadow crossing his face.
"You’re truly your father’s son," he scoffed. "You know about the hostility between our families, yet you married her."
"Because we have a duty to her," I interrupted. "And don’t forget the promise you made to my mother to protect her."
"That promise is why you were betrothed to her in the first place," he retorted, raising his voice. I sighed, realizing we were back to square one, ensnared by a web of commitments and obligations. "You’re the first child of my first son, and I’ve already lost him. I can’t bear to lose you too."
"You have your promise to my mother, and I have mine to Carmela’s. You have taught me that a man’s word is his bond," I pressed on, though I doubted he would relent. "To protect her at the cost of your life? And what power do you think you have to protect her?" he sneered.
"The power of being the heir of this dynasty. Nathan becoming the heir has always been your dream, hasn’t it?" The room fell into a heavy silence. The old man’s dream had always been to see my father as the dynasty’s heir, a dream shattered by his death. In his grief, he had tried to mold me into my father, dyeing my hair black and enrolling me in training as Nathan, forbidding the use of my real name. After my stint in a mental hospital, he sent me to the States to start anew for reasons known only to him.
"I couldn’t pass down my looks, but I passed down my stubbornness," he mused. "I was too stubborn to see why your father kept you from our world. Now I understand, and I’m trying to rectify my mistake."
"You’re too late, old man," I interrupted, watching him look away with a sigh. "I want revenge." I picked up a pen from his holder, the metal cold against my skin. "I don’t seek power to protect her, but to avenge my parents. Remember your duty to Carmela. Without her, you wouldn’t have just lost your son,you would have lost your entire family."
"These brats never listen," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the table. "What do you want me to do?" he questioned with raised eyebrows
"Protect Carmela. She may be from the enemy’s bloodline, but she is not the enemy. The old Dalton is hunting her, and even though she has lost her memories, anything could trigger them. I want her to stay here while I attend the Alpha Four dining table," I explained and he remained silent, his expression inscrutable.
"She may be a weapon, but she’s still a child. And despite being a child, she remains a weapon..a double-edged sword," he remarked with a smirk.
"Meaning?"
"Does the one you want to protect truly need protection?" His voice took on that cryptic tone I despised. "I’ve kept an eye on your wife. Her memories may be suppressed, but her body remembers. Just a little trigger could bring everything back you say."
"What are you getting at?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.
"Nothing. I’ll keep my end of the bargain. Do as you wish," he said, standing. "I’ll ask the butler to prepare what you need for the Alpha Four dining table. But for now, let’s focus on our own family dinner. I’m sure it will be filled with plenty of drama, especially with you attending."
As he left, the air seemed to crackle with unspoken threats and hidden meanings. The suspense was palpable, and amidst it all, a flicker of awaiting threat which I could not dispose of.
...
Carmela’s heart raced as the butler led her through the labyrinthine hallways of the opulent mansion. The shadows seemed to flicker with unseen eyes, and the sensation of being watched gnawed at her nerves. She tried to maintain a composed facade, but her discomposure was evident in the tight grip she had on her purse and the darting glances she cast over her shoulder. The butler’s voice broke the silence, smooth and almost conspiratorial.
"The fourth floor belongs to the young master," he said softly, pressing the button for the elevator. Carmela nodded, stepping into the lift. She forced a smile as the butler bowed and the doors slid shut, sealing her in a metal box that felt both protective and confining.
Once alone, her mask of confidence slipped. She fumbled in her bag, retrieving her phone with trembling fingers. Dialing Zamiel’s number, she held her breath, counting the rings. He picked up on the third, his voice a languid drawl that did little to soothe her nerves.
"Yes, little bunny," he greeted, laziness evident in his tone.
"I need your help," she blurted out, her voice barely steady. She quickly outlined her predicament, her words tumbling over each other in her urgency.
"So you want to attend without letting your husband know? Hold on, you’re hiding your identity from him?" Zamiel’s voice sharpened with interest.
"Yes," she confirmed, her tone edged with desperation. Silence followed, thick and heavy, until it was broken by Zamiel’s sigh.
"You’ll have to pretend to be someone’s partner to get in, and I won’t be able to help you with that because I’ll be going with my fiancée. But I know someone who can help."
"Who?" Carmela’s eagerness was palpable, her determination hardening her resolve.
"I’ll try talking to Alpha Four, but don’t get your hopes up."
"I understand," she replied, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"As for your outfit, I’ll send someone to deliver and pick you up. Remember the secret casino I run?"
"Yeah," she replied, her mind racing ahead.
"Good. You’ll meet them there." The elevator chimed softly, indicating her arrival. Hastily, she ended the call, not bothering with formalities, and stuffed her phone back into her bag.
As the doors opened, Carmela stepped out, momentarily awed by the sheer luxury that surrounded her. The Deans were clearly swimming in money, evident from the lavish decor and the immaculate design of the apartment. But the grandeur only heightened her sense of unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that every smile she encountered hid ulterior motives, and that her only true ally in this gilded cage was her husband.
Taking a deep breath, Carmela approached the apartment door, noticing it was slightly ajar. The sound of breaking glass caught her attention, and she wondered if someone else lived with Nix. Cautiously, she entered, only to be astounded by the familiar figure she encountered.
"I’m sorry I broke your dish. I know how much you hate having people in your apartment, but the butler served too many pastries, and I just wanted to keep..." The voice trailed off as the man turned to face her, wide-eyed.
"Carmela!"
"Tom!" they both exclaimed in unison. As Tom scrambled for an excuse for being in the Dean residence, Carmela struggled to fathom his role in the Dean household.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, taking a few steps toward him, observing his nervous fidgeting.
"Actually, I should be asking you that," she continued, raising an eyebrow. "Are you by any chance a part of the Dean family?" She watched him nod reluctantly.
"Actually... Nix is my older cousin. Tomlin Dean is the name," he admitted, making her scoff.
"You’re Tomlin Dean? Why did you never tell me you’re the cousin of the same person I’ve been bad-mouthing for months? And why did you never mention know your surname is Dean?"
"Ahem... you never asked," he replied, shrugging. "Also, I never told you he was my cousin because you’d start walking on eggshells around me."
"True," she interjected, making Tom chuckle.
"Now it’s your turn. What are you doing here? Have you finally found a way to pay him back?" He raised an eyebrow, watching her as she took her seat beside him.
"Hmm,about that, not really. We’re married." She showed him her ring, and his expression fell,but not quick enough for Carmela to notice as he placed by a smile on his lips.
"Now you’re officially my sister-in-law," he said, rising and making his way to the kitchen to dispose of the broken plates. "I’ll take my leave now; it’s almost time for dinner, so I have to prepare." He smiled, but Carmela couldn’t help but notice how lifeless it seemed.
"Don’t be late, okay?" He winked still trying to maintain his former demeanour before taking his leave, his uncharacteristic behavior leaving Carmela puzzled and a bit concerned.