At the Virellano Residence
Sandra sat all alone in the vastly expansive living room, the coolness inside starkly contrasting with the rcilessly scorching heat blazing outside.
The enormous, enclosed space did not allow even the slightest intrusion of the fierce afternoon sunlight to creep through, not even through the narrowest crack along the side windows of the house.
Though the residence was grandiose and lavishly furnished with luxurious décor, it radiated a profound sense of quietude.
A silence so unusual perated every corner that it seed almost tangible, almost as if the house itself were holding its breath.
Ever since David had grown into adulthood, the children no longer filled the house with the exuberance and boundless cheer that once animated every nook and cranny of this sprawling ho.
Even when they were physically present, the conversations that unfolded lacked the spiritedness of their childhood, the days when laughter had been unrestrained, spontaneous, and when each mont was peppered with charming little dramas that carried their own innocent delight.
Now, those once lively sounds were replaced by an oppressive stillness that occasionally made Sandra feel as though she were wandering through a museum rather than inhabiting a familial abode.
Even Aurielle and Sarah, her two most independent daughters, had begun contemplating establishing their own residences, seeking the autonomy that adulthood naturally demanded.
Only because Sandra sotis appeared lonely did they delay that decision.
They longed for independence, yearning to advance their careers and personal lives, yet there remained a subtle, lingering sense of guilt that restrained them just enough to hesitate.
Yet, beyond all of this pervasive quietude, there existed one singular figure capable of animating this house, albeit in a manner uniquely chaotic and filled with dramatic unpredictability.
And, naturally, that figure was Al. Al, with his habitual laziness, apathetic disposition, and the controlled mayhem he consistently brought along, sohow made the house feel... alive.
Sandra’s mind drifted back to the tis when her children were still small.
She rembered their laughter, the ruckus in the kitchen as they scrambled for food, the rhythmic clatter of shoes echoing down the corridor, and the playful, innocent teasing they exchanged without malice.
Those mories ward her heart, stirring reflections that ventured into deeper, unspoken territories of emotion.
Yet, before she could allow nostalgia to envelop her entirely, the familiar sound of approaching footsteps from the front door pulled her back to the present mont.
"Aurielle?" Sandra called out, craning her neck, and indeed, her eldest daughter entered the living room, a light-looking work bag casually slung over her shoulder.
Her face still bore traces of busyness, yet a faint smile blossod upon seeing her mother.
"I’m ho," Aurielle said softly, her tone calm yet tinged with understated warmth.
"You’re ho early today?" Sandra asked, welcoming her daughter with a gentle, affectionate smile.
Aurielle nodded lightly, speaking in a casual, unburdened manner.
"Work at the office wrapped up faster than expected today, so I get a little extra ti to relax. Feels good to co ho a bit earlier than usual."
They settled together on the large, plush sofa, exchanging soft, conversational pleasantries that carried the comfort of familiarity.
After a mont, Aurielle’s curiosity prompted her to ask,
"Mom, why do you always hang out here in the living room by yourself? Your room is comfortable, fully equipped, and practically perfect for solitude."
Sandra offered a faint, thoughtful smile, gazing toward the window as if seeking an answer beyond the glass.
"Because this is where you all inevitably pass through," she replied.
"I... I just like watching you go by. Whether you appear one by one or several at a ti, even if only for a brief mont... life feels more vivid when you’re here." She added, her voice carrying a gentle sentintality.
Aurielle chuckled softly, a touch moved by her mother’s words, and then enveloped Sandra in a warm, tender hug—like a child returning from kindergarten, seeking the familiar comfort of maternal embrace.
"I understand, Mom. Sotis I miss those days too," she murmured quietly.
"But you can always go out with your socialite friends too, right? That’s usually what you do." Aurielle added, attempting to lighten the mood.
Sandra let out a small laugh.
"Ugh... spending too much ti with those elitist ladies isn’t exactly good for ntal health. Once in a while is more than enough. Their conversations can be... peculiar. Hehe."
And both mother and daughter shared a brief, gentle laugh over the observation.
Not long after, Aurielle inquired about the whereabouts of the other family mbers who, by coincidence, were not at ho.
Sandra offered a thin smile and recited their activities one by one:
"Sarah is out eting a colleague for preparations related to her film premiere that we discussed this morning."
"Vianna is busy at her dojo, preparing for the TC tournant scheduled in a few months over in the Daxia country."
"Clarista and Fani went out for so leisure ti. They rarely have free monts ever since managing David’s preparation for his national exams."
"As for David, his school schedule today is slightly extended, so he won’t be ho until later in the afternoon—you already know that, of course."
Sandra hesitated slightly, but pressed on, unwilling to omit ntioning her other child.
"And Al... Hmph... he seems to still be at school, though I’m not entirely certain. But his school is flexible; he should already be ho. Let’s hope he isn’t wandering off sowhere he shouldn’t be."
A subtle unease surfaced in her chest, the uncertainty surrounding Al’s whereabouts generating a faintly awkward tension that made directly asking him sowhat uncomfortable.
To deflect the lingering discomfort, Sandra shifted her attention to Edward, her husband.
"So, what about your dad? Is he still busy with work? Seems like he has a lot going on."
Aurielle sensed the tension and chose not to press further, rely exhaling softly before replying.
"Dad still has a few etings, Mom. Looks like he’ll be ho later than usual."
"It’s weird, you asking about Dad when you’re his wife." Aurielle added with a teasing undertone, attempting to diffuse the subtle strain in the room.
Sandra chuckled at the comnt, and with that, Aurielle prepared to excuse herself and ascend to her room.
However, Sandra hesitated slightly, then gently held Aurielle for a brief mont, redirecting the conversation toward a topic tinged with delicate sensitivity.
"Aurielle... may I ask you sothing?" Sandra’s voice carried a subtle mixture of tentative curiosity and maternal concern.
"Hmph... why does it sound like you’re about to ask sothing I probably shouldn’t, that you even need to ask permission first?" Aurielle’s instincts prickled with unease, her tone half-teasing, half-cautious.
Sandra rely cleared her throat softly, nodding in acknowledgnt.
Aurielle could only surrender to the mont, nodding in resignation, her posture slightly tense.
"So... what is it that you wish to ask, Mom?"
Sandra restrained herself for a mont, carefully weighing her words, and finally allowed the inquiry to escape in a gentle, asured tone.
"Aurielle... you are of a sufficiently mature age, and technically, you need not pursue anything further at this point. Your career has already reached remarkable heights."
Aurielle nodded, her unease intensifying, as if she already anticipated the trajectory of her mother’s inquiry.
Sandra exhaled softly, the sigh carrying both hesitance and concern.
"So... you have no plans to get married in the near future?"
Naturally, hearing this—even after ntally preparing herself—Aurielle remained montarily startled, her lips pursing in subtle surprise.
"Woah... no wonder I felt uneasy," she remarked with a wry, slightly embarrassed chuckle.
Sandra responded with a faint, awkward laugh of her own.
Aurielle then surrendered to honesty, her voice tinged with hesitation.
"I... haven’t really thought about it, Mom. I... don’t have any plans," she admitted, mirroring the sa awkwardness.
"Besides, even though my career seems dazzling from the outside... most of it is hardly more than the opportunities and support provided by Dad." She spoke plainly, yet with a quiet pride underlying her words.
"I want to achieve sothing greater on my own before considering anything else. And, as soone from an elite background, stability is crucial, especially given the high position I currently hold."
Sandra nodded slowly, attempting to comprehend while concealing a flicker of disappointnt.
She then cautiously steered the conversation toward a lighter topic that subtly resonated with marriage, sothing edging toward romance.
"In that case, is there anyone you like? Or perhaps soone you are close to?"
Aurielle blushed faintly, her lips trembling almost imperceptibly.
"Mooom! Why are you even talking about this... uwwahhh," she half-grumbled, half-laughed, caught off guard.
Sandra smiled gently, refusing to pressure her. "I’m just curious, that’s all."
Aurielle exhaled long and deliberately, collecting herself.
"I... haven’t encountered anyone like that. Let’s just say I haven’t found soone suitable," she replied with a lightly teasing, slightly defiant tone.
Sandra chuckled quietly, acknowledging the difficulty of finding a suitable partner for soone like Aurielle, considering her accomplishnts and social standing.
She then ventured to ntion a few nas, teasing yet tempered with a faint undertone of seriousness.
"For example... Gerald Dayakora, heir to the powerful Dayakora family, or Kaizar Asthaven, the eldest son of the Asthaven family — the top family that basically runs the State Palace and most of the national governnt."
Aurielle raised an eyebrow and instinctively recoiled slightly, showing clear disinterest. She shook her head emphatically; even nas of such stature and elegance could not entice her.
Sandra herself was aware that, as a mber of the elite, Aurielle could very well be arranged into a marriage that strengthened familial influence.
But given all of Aurielle’s personal sacrifices—being the sole child dedicating herself wholeheartedly to family—Sandra and Edward both sought to shield her from such an imposition.
They wanted Aurielle to pursue her own happiness after years of surrendering her youth to career and family obligations.
Sandra let out a soft laugh and closed the topic gracefully, avoiding any sense of compulsion. Aurielle remained slightly bewildered.
"Why did you suddenly start talking about that, Mom? That’s... so weird," she murmured.
Sandra looked out the window, confiding softly.
"As I ntioned earlier, I’ve been feeling... lonely lately, and have been frequently reminiscing about your childhood." She explained in a tone infused with gentle reflection.
"Perhaps it’s the instinct of a middle-aged mother like whose children have all grown up. I find myself thinking about grandchildren often, hehe," she added, turning back toward Aurielle with a slight grin.
Aurielle only offered a shy, awkward smile, attempting to ease the mood.
"I understand your wishes, Mom. It’s natural. But if we think realistically, this house is a ss right now because of Al. Maybe it’s better not to focus on grandchildren yet. We should probably concentrate on raising that mischievous child first."
She then offered a hypothetical scenario, her tone tinged with humor.
"Because even if, hypothetically... just hypothetically, I were to marry and have a child soon, with Al still being wild like this, my child could easily inherit his wildness, you know. Haha."
Sandra laughed softly at the joke, nodding in agreent, offering a faint smile. She then asked sothing that gave Aurielle pause.
"By the way, just like David, Al has grown up, and now has... a ’girlfriend.’ What do you think about Al and Yura? I’m still uncertain whether their relationship is genuinely real. And if it is, can it possibly go smoothly?"
Aurielle fell silent for a mont, considering her words carefully.
"Both of them... their personalities are almost identical in terms of being troublemakers."
"Yura is an authoritarian girl, notorious for being harsh, and Al is a rebellious boy with sharp lips, always pretending to be mature and in control. For so reason, imagining them together seems like envisioning a huge conflict," she said softly.
Sandra gazed out the window again, murmuring thoughtfully,
"That’s true. Or perhaps Al could temper Yura’s harshness with his matured deanor, while Yura could manage Al’s sharp tongue with her scolding skills."
Aurielle followed her mother’s gaze toward the window and simply nodded.
"They’re still young. As long as they’re guided along the right path, they can develop for the better. Luckily, we found Al at this age. If he were older, his character might already be ingrained and much harder to change," she remarked.
Sandra nodded and murmured quietly to herself,
"I wonder what that child is doing right now?"
"Who knows, Mom. I just hope he’s not in trouble," Aurielle responded softly.
And together they fell silent, letting the quiet of the ho be filled only by the faint background noise of a television drama playing on a large screen, left largely unattended.
Until a phone call on Aurielle’s device disrupted the serenity. She answered, stepping slightly away to speak, her voice tense yet controlled.
After the call ended, she imdiately turned back toward Sandra, her expression slightly strained.
"Mom, I think we need to leave imdiately. Seems there’s sothing urgent going on," she said, her tone laced with subtle urgency.
"Huh? What happened?" Sandra asked, sharing a fraction of that tension.
But Aurielle instead dashed upstairs, her words hurried and almost breathless.
"Mom, I’ll change first. You get ready too, I’ll explain everything later, okay?" she shouted as she went.
Sandra gaped, still unsure what was happening.
"O-Okay. But... What should I even wear?" she yelled after her daughter.
"Anything casual is fine, just not party attire!" Aurielle’s voice ca faintly, still audible as she ascended.
Sandra didn’t fully understand, but with a resigned sigh, she turned off the television and headed toward her room. A subtle uneasiness lingered in her chest, as though they were about to face sothing unpleasant.
The house settled into an almost tangible silence with the departure of all family mbers, leaving only the servants moving quietly throughout the spacious halls.
---
anwhile, at the Police Headquarters
Al sat with relaxed composure, encircled by a throng of senior police officers and high-ranking elite parents, exuding an air of controlled indifference despite the tension surrounding him.
Sebastian remained calm, poised, his deanor betraying nothing as he awaited the arrival of what Al had referred to as ’reinforcents.’
The doors swung open, revealing two elegantly commanding won whose re presence and authority could induce apprehensive submission from even the most hardened officers.
Sebastian turned, smiling faintly, finally understanding who these reinforcents were.
Al, without glancing back, muttered softly in quiet astonishnt,
"I never expected reinforcents to arrive with this level of glamor."
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