Chapter 60: Do You Hate Marcellus?

Elias sneered, a hint of self-mockery in his expression. "What, did you think I was just some useless playboy squandering the family's wealth? Emma, Marcellus' mother, treated me decently—or at least pretended to. And since they brought me out of the orphanage into this powerful family, I understood that I had to repay the favor. From a young age, I was sent to deal with unsavory characters in the streets, handling dirty work for the family."

His words carried both bitterness and an unyielding edge. "Eventually, I took control of the family's underground network. Any threat or danger to the family? It was my job to resolve it. Do you think someone like me wouldn't have built up my own resources and connections in such an environment? Naturally, I picked up skills that most people couldn't even dream of, learning secrets that ordinary folks would never uncover."

Elias shifted the tone, his voice tinged with pride. "As for the diary—of course, I found it when he wasn't around. He thought he'd hidden it well, but really, his little tricks were child's play to me. That secret mechanism at the corner of his desk? Obvious, once you know what to look for. Honestly, it's laughable how much faith he had in his hiding spot."

Alia stiffened slightly, her hands instinctively clenching. Shame washed over her. In her previous life as a thief, her sharp instincts had been unparalleled—no detail escaped her notice. It was a gift that had once defined her. Yet, since she'd started living as a noble lady, her vigilance had dulled. How had she missed something so obvious?

Elias's revelation brought back vivid images of the study. That seemingly innocent desk corner now felt like it bore a deliberate air of concealment. Alia inhaled deeply, frustration evident on her face. "How could I have overlooked it?"

Elias noticed her reaction, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His eyes flickered with a complicated mix of emotions. "It's not that you missed your chance to discover it. It's just… well, even though I said I figured it out easily, it wouldn't have been simple for someone without proper training."

"Training?" Alia raised an eyebrow, her tone tinged with curiosity. "You've been trained for this? Who trained you?"

Elias chuckled, a trace of smugness creeping into his expression. "Of course. How else could I have moved so effortlessly through your 'training hall' back then? As for who trained me… sorry, that's a question I can't answer. Everyone has their secrets, don't they? Just like how I never expected you to have such an impressive setup for your own… activities."

"Fair point," Alia admitted, a small smile playing on her lips, though her eyes glimmered with a spark of interest. Elias's casual dismissal only heightened her curiosity. If he was willing to admit to being an orphan but remained tight-lipped about his training, there had to be more to the story—something far more complex.

She looked at Elias's seemingly carefree demeanor, trying to glean more from his expression. But his composure was unwavering, revealing nothing. His calm, almost indifferent attitude only solidified her suspicion that this secret carried significant weight.

"If you won't say, I won't push," Alia said with a neutral tone, though her curiosity lingered. She knew Elias had his boundaries, just as she had hers. And yet, it was precisely the unknown that gnawed at her, compelling her to dig deeper.

"Thank you for understanding," Elias replied, his voice softer now, though a fleeting shadow crossed his gaze. After a moment, his tone lightened again. "But one thing is certain—whatever training I've had, your 'training hall' truly left an impression. How about we spar again sometime?"

Alia couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head lightly. "Next time, I'll make sure you lose fair and square."

"I'll look forward to it." A sly, knowing smile spread across Elias's face, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased.

Then Alia broke the silence, her voice hesitant yet determined. "So, do you hate Marcellus?"

Elias hesitated, his gaze dropping as his lips curved into a bitter smile. His voice, tinged with resignation, finally broke the quiet. "Hate him? Not entirely. He's always treated me reasonably well—never cruel, at least. And after Peter and Emma died, it was just the two of us. In a way, we depended on each other to keep the family together."

He paused, his voice growing quieter as his eyes darkened with unspoken emotions. "But how could I not hate him, at least a little? Everything—the root of it all—is because of him. Without him, my life could've been entirely different."

Elias's expression hardened, a shadow passing over his features. His eyes grew cold, as though haunted by some unspeakable pain. He lifted his gaze, his tone sharper now. "And then, later…" His words faltered, and he clamped his mouth shut, as though wrestling with himself.

"Later, what?" Alia pressed, leaning forward, her desperation for answers clear.

"Nothing," Elias said after a moment, shaking his head as though to dispel the thought. Yet his voice carried a suppressed tension. "It doesn't matter anymore. What does matter is how he's treated you. Marcellus has never loved you, Livia. He's only ever used you. To him, you and your family's resources were just pawns in his game."

The accusation hit Alia like a physical blow, her chest tightening as a whirlwind of emotions churned inside her.

Elias observed her reaction and sighed, his voice softening as he spoke with an air of regret. "You already know this deep down. If it weren't for your amnesia, you wouldn't need his diary to confirm it. Before, you saw everything for what it was—that's why you came to me…"