Night eventually fell, and Dusk had barely eaten anything all day. He refused Lysandra’s offer of food, giving the excuse that he wanted her to witness a miracle.
In front of her house, a luxurious carriage pulled up. From it stepped down an elderly man with an air of nobility, followed by a younger man radiating an extraordinary aura.
"Father, how much do you actually believe in what the girl said?"
The speaker was none other than Caelan, Lysandra’s father.
Tharion stroked his long silver beard, his deep gaze resting on his granddaughter’s house.
Hidden within his eyes was a glimr of hope—faint, yet unwavering.
"You really have to ask? The mont we decided to co here, we were already prepared for whatever outco awaits us. If what she says is true, then there is nothing better for us. If it turns out to be false, then at worst, it’s rely a visit to my beloved granddaughter," the old man replied calmly.
Caelan nodded at that. He wasn’t overly worried about this eting, but what did concern him was the possibility that his daughter was being deceived.
"If that brat dares to trick my daughter, he’d better be ready to pay the price. She claims he’s a wanted criminal who’s actually a good person. That sort of logic sounds questionable to people like us who’ve seen too much of the world," Caelan said, his tone laced with suspicion toward Dusk.
From within his sleeve, sothing slightly reflective caught the light.
Of course, it wasn’t a mirror—it was a dagger, carefully concealed.
Even though he knew Dusk was gravely injured, Caelan’s years of experience taught him never to underestimate dangerous people, even when they were wounded.
"There’s no need to be overly cautious. No matter what tricks he tries, a seriously injured man stands no chance against the three of us. Still, based on what the girl said, I’d say this person’s truly cursed. I an, nearly dying three tis in a single day? That’s got to be so kind of record," Tharion remarked, a touch of dark amusent in his voice.
The two n then pressed the doorbell and waited.
Hearing the sound, Lysandra imdiately rose to her feet and turned to Dusk.
"My father and grandfather are here. While I won’t hurt you, I can’t control what they might do. But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to protect you—as long as you don’t do anything wrong."
’Damn it, is that supposed to be a threat or reassurance? And who gets to decide whether I’ve done sothing wrong? If it’s by my standards, great—but what about theirs?’
The corner of Dusk’s mouth twitched. He had no illusions about those two being gentle, kind souls.
They were successful businessn, after all.
The business world was a battlefield. While it might not be as lethal as an actual war zone, those who thrived at the top were anything but ordinary.
Anyone without true skill who tried to climb higher would be devoured by those above—down to the very last scrap.
Lysandra quickly descended the stairs and opened the door for her family.
As soon as she stepped outside, both n greeted her with affectionate smiles.
It was imdiately clear how much they adored and cherished her.
She had every reason to regard them as the most important people in her life.
"Father, Grandpa, how have you both been?" She asked with a smile, her voice lighter than usual—more like a little girl than the elegant woman she normally was.
Yet not even this warm familiarity dulled her natural poise.
Her grace had been honed to the point of instinct; unless sothing truly shocking happened, it remained unshaken.
Tharion stepped forward and gently patted her head.
Seeing her like this brought imnse joy to the old man’s heart.
"It’s been quite a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it? How have you been lately?"
"I’ve been doing very well! But let’s not talk about that for now—we need to et Dusk. If what he says is true, you might be able to live a very, very long ti."
Lysandra nodded eagerly, then imdiately pulled him along.
A strange flicker of jealousy stirred in Caelan’s chest.
She was his daughter, and yet now she seed to be ignoring him completely in favor of greeting her grandfather.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat loudly enough for them to hear, a not-so-subtle reminder that he was still there.
Hearing the cough, Lysandra turned back toward her father, finally realizing that in her excitent, she had accidentally left him out.
"Ha ha, sorry, Father. But Grandpa’s the one who actually needs to live longer, right? You’ve still got plenty of years ahead of you, so this isn’t urgent for you at all. You won’t be upset, will you?" she said with a playful smile.
Of course, she knew her father probably felt this was unfair.
But it wasn’t anything serious—he’d get over it in no ti.
Besides, she loved him deeply, and he knew that well.
Her words made Caelan feel like his daughter was playing favorites, but the mont he saw her bright smile, all his frustration lted away.
"Why would I bla you? I was just reminding you to hurry up, that’s all. This is an incredibly important matter for your grandfather, after all. Ha ha ha..."
He scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly.
Tharion scoffed and curled his lip in disdain.
Clearly, this shaless son of his was just jealous—and trying to play it off as concern.
Lysandra wasn’t naïve. She understood both n completely, and their little performance only made her want to laugh.
The three of them headed upstairs together.
But when they reached the door to her room, the expressions on both n’s faces started to twist with visible discomfort.
’What the hell? Who dares enter my daughter’s room? I don’t know what that bastard’s intentions are, but I swear I won’t let this slide.’
Caelan clenched his jaw, ntally branding Dusk as the enemy.
’That damned brat—how dare he enter my granddaughter’s room? Hmph, I’ll deal with him later, one way or another.’
Tharion’s lips twitched as he, too, silently declared Dusk his enemy.
Poor Dusk. Through no fault of his own, he had sohow earned the hostility of two powerful, wealthy n—without even doing a single thing.
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