Meeting (3)

Grey stood motionless at the head of the hall, his golden eyes sweeping across the room like a predator assessing its prey.

Yet none of the four seated figures spoke.

They simply… stared at him.

He tilted his head slightly.

'Hm?'

'Why aren't they saying anything?'

He used the silence to study them carefully. Though he itched to provoke them, he had no information—no sense of how far he could push. Best to test the waters slowly.

"As the silence stretched on, and not a word was uttered, he realized—"

'Heh. are they're trying to intimidate me.'

A faint smirk curled in his mind as he slid a hand into his pocket, posture deliberately relaxed. He tilted his head, voice laced with arrogance.

"Did you call me here… just to stare at me?"

"..!"

The moment the words left his lips, the air shifted. The room turned frigid, the atmosphere thickening like frost.

He'd gotten the reaction he wanted.

Effie's mother's eyes narrowed, her face twisting for the briefest second before she schooled it back into cold disdain.

Her fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to strike. Beside her, her husband's jaw clenched. Grey's new mother—Liana—merely narrowed her eyes, a flicker of warning in her gaze.

Only one person remained utterly still.

His new father.

Lucien didn't so much as blink. His expression, as unreadable as Grey's own, gave nothing away.

'Not bad'

Grey acknowledged inwardly, his wariness sharpening against him.

Human nature dictated that the higher one's status, the more fiercely they clung to it. A direct disrespect like this should have provoked anger, pride—any sort of reaction, even if subtle—yet Lucien showed nothing.

If not for the memories he inherited, Grey would have thought this man was someone who didn't care much for reputation or power.

But Grey knew better.

The man wasn't unaffected. He was a snake. The kind that struck when least expected, venom hidden behind a mask of calm.

It was then he heard it—

"Grey."

His mother's voice cut through the silence.

The moment his name left her lips, his body locked. Pure, instinctive fear lanced through him, freezing even his breath. His games, his amusement—gone in an instant.

Slowly, mechanically, he turned toward her.

Her pink eyes held no warmth. Only disgust.

It was a look he knew all too well. After all, it was the same look the woman who killed him had given him. But those pink eyes—he could tell there was more to it—

Mana.

There was no mistaking it. The sheer, suffocating pressure in the air wasn't just intimidation—it was power. Absolute, crushing dominance. If she willed it, she could erase him before he even blinked.

He swallowed hard.

'I underestimated her.'

She had seemed fragile at first glance, delicate as a flower. But beneath that elegance lurked something monstrous.

Liana leaned back slightly, her voice a blade wrapped in silk.

"Do you know why I called you?"

Grey lifted his gaze. "I don't."

He lied. Of course he knew.

Before the tension could snap, Effie's mother slammed her palm against the table.

"Such shamelessness!" she hissed. "Are you not even going to pretend to regret it?!"

"..."

Grey didn't answer immediately.

He met her glare with hollow indifference, his face a mask of blank amusement. Then, tilting his head just enough to provoke, he murmured:

"…Do I know you?"

Her face contorted. "You—!"

Her husband caught her wrist, forcing her back into her seat as he told her to calm down. She obeyed, but her loathing glare never left Grey. He ignored her, his focus shifting to Lucien.

Who was watching him silently...

Effie's father turned to Liana, voice thick with barely restrained fury.

"Liana," he bit out, her name heavy with accusation, "are you still going to protect him? Look at him. Tell me—do you see even a shred of remorse?"

"..."

Liana's silence stretched. Finally, she exhaled, her gaze never leaving Grey.

"Grey," she said again, cold as winter. "Do you have anything to say?"

Grey blinked.

"About what?"

His smile was all innocence—except for the deliberate taunt in his eyes.

That smile—careless, mocking—deepened her frown.

"Grey."

His name was a warning. A threat.

He answered with saccharine sweetness. "Yes, mother~"

The air grew colder. Not metaphorically—literally. Mana hummed, the pressure thickening until it pressed against his skin like a blade's edge.

Then—

Tap.

A single, deliberate sound. Lucien's finger tapped once against the armrest of his chair.

All eyes snapped to him.

"I believe," he said, his tone flat, "we all understand what happened. There's no point in casting blame—what's done is done. The real question is: how do we proceed?"

The tension shattered.

Effie's father was on his feet before anyone else could speak.

"Don't say it," he growled. "Don't even suggest it."

Liana remained silent, her gaze locked on Lucien.

Effie's mother paled.

Grey watched, amused.

'Ah. So that's where this is going.'

His father hadn't called him here for punishment.

No—he had something else in mind.

Grey's smirk deepened as he studied Effie's parents.

He wanted to laugh as he looked at them.

'From the start… they were his target.'

Lucien, his father—he had been aiming at them all along.

Grey looked at Lucien.

The man was even more of a snake than he'd thought.

Lucien met Effie's father's rage with infuriating calm.

"I understand your feelings," he said smoothly. "But there's no alternative. This benefits both our families—and our children."

He gestured toward Grey.

"My son made a mistake, yes. But we all know how deeply he cares for Effie. And she…" he paused and smiled warmly. "Well, it's clear she loves him as well. Perhaps they should settle this between themselves."

His gaze slid to Grey. "Isn't that right, Grey?"

'Will you look at that.'

Grey's lips curled up.

His new father was even more shameless than he'd imagined.

Effie's father slammed his fist onto the table.

"Nonsense! You expect me to marry my daughter to him? After what he did?"