The guards stopped here, letting only Timothy proceeded.
The doors opened slowly at his approach and within it was not merely a study...
It was a sanctuary of intellect and authority.
The ceiling soared high above, supported by tall marble columns. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling in perfect rows, each filled with ancient texts, awakened research manuscripts, trade logs, and family records dating back generations.
A faint scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air.
Timothy’s footsteps echoed softly as he walked straight down the central aisle.
At the far end, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, was a man whose presence alone altered the atmosphere.
Alessandro Virelli...
Patriarch of the Misty High Branch.
He wore a charcoal suit tailored flawlessly to his lean frame. A silver chain hung from his vest pocket, attached to a polished monocle resting over his left eye. In his right hand, he held a dark wooden cane capped with a serpent-head handle.
His hair was a striking blend of silver and black, styled neatly back. Though he bore streaks of age, his face looked no older than his early thirties.
His jawline was incredibly sharp and he bore piercing gray eyes with a suave bearing.
There was no doubt that he bore facial similarities to Timothy but one was like being in the presence of a Tiger while the other was like a cub.
Timothy stopped three meters away and bowed deeply.
"You called for me, Father."
Alessandro did not look up immediately.
He finished the page he was reading, closed the book gently and then raised his gaze.
"You have arrived."
His voice was calm but heavy with authority.
"Your recent exploits are commendable," Alessandro continued. "Saving an entire neighborhood and improving our public image."
Timothy’s chest swelled subtly.
Praise from the elders was one thing but praise from his father was everything.
His eyes brightened almost imperceptibly.
But in the next instant, Alessandro’s tone shifted.
"However..."
The word cut cleanly through the air.
"The mafia is not in the business of heroics."
Timothy stiffened.
"We are in the business of amassing fortune and power."
Alessandro leaned slightly on his cane.
"You did neither."
The words struck harder than any blow.
"You expended resources. Mobilized guards. Deployed emergency response teams... gave free accommodation to a select bunch."
His gaze sharpened.
"And you returned with nothing of value."
Silence filled the study.
"You claimed there was nothing recoverable in that residential ruin," Alessandro said coolly. "How pitiful."
Timothy’s throat tightened.
"You, my son... need to start learning from your twin sister."
The air changed subtly as Timothy’s eyes moved instinctively toward the corner of the room...
And there she was...
Freya Virelli.
She stood near one of the towering shelves as if she had been there the entire time.
Perhaps she had... he just didn’t notice.
Her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of midnight silk, long enough to nearly reach her thighs.
Her lips were full and naturally crimson, curved in a faint, knowing smile.
Her eyes were sharp, icy blue and calculating.
She wore a fitted black dress with subtle silver embroidery, accentuating her tall, elegant frame. Every movement she made was mesmerising but gave off a feeling of danger.
She wasn’t just beautiful... she was intimidating.
A full-blown, devastating beauty whose aura radiated danger and superiority.
Timothy’s heart sank slightly.
’I thought she was out on exploration...’
Freya’s gaze locked onto him and she smiled.
Then she pushed off the shelf and approached.
"Don’t be so harsh on him, Father," she said sweetly.
Her voice was smooth silk hiding steel.
"You know Timothy can be quite slow sometimes."
She reached Alessandro’s side and gently wrapped her arms around his left arm, resting her cheek lightly against his sleeve as though pleading.
Alessandro huffed lightly.
"Your sister cleared a one-layer ruin solo this week," he said calmly. "It may have been small, but she returned with resources."
He tapped his cane against the floor.
"Resources—not public applause."
Freya’s smile widened slightly.
"But," Alessandro continued, softening his tone by just a fraction, "saving civilians is not without merit."
Timothy’s gaze flickered upward.
"You did prevent casualties and score the family name some points."
Alessandro leaned back slightly.
"Perhaps I should not be too harsh."
He studied Timothy carefully.
"I am certain you will do better next time."
Timothy stood there rigidly like stone, unable to speak...
Unable to respond.
The weight of comparison crushed him.
Finally, Alessandro spoke again.
"In light of your recent... exploit, I have a new assignment for you."
Timothy’s eyes immediately lit up... He would do anything to prove himself.
"Anything, Father. I will complete it."
Alessandro gave a slight nod.
"We will discuss the details with the council tomorrow."
His father waved in dismissal and Timothy bowed once more before exiting.
Freya followed shortly after.
Outside the study doors, the hallway felt colder.
Freya stopped walking while Timothy kept moving.
"My lovely brother..."
Her voice was playful and sadistic as she called out to him from behind.
He stopped and turned slowly, spotting that same predatory smile on her face that he had always known.
"You felt the need to prove yourself that badly..."
She stepped closer.
"...that you even faked clearing a residential ruin and saving innocent lives?"
His expression darkened instantly.
"What are you talking about?"
His voice hardened.
"You’d better shut up."
Freya’s responded with a softer laugh that sounded cruel.
She stepped so close that only inches separated them.
Her fingers lifted as she slowly stroked his chin.
"Oh, my dear brother..."
Her eyes gleamed.
"We both know you’re a wimp."
Timothy’s fists clenched.
"How did you do it?" she continued casually. "Did you send the guards in first? Or did you stand safely in the sidelines while other gangs handled it?"
His body tightened and trembled in anger as she leaned closer.
Her lips near his ear.
"The elders may have reduced their talk about replacing you with me..."
Her voice dropped.
"But what happens when they find out..."
She pulled back slightly.
"...you didn’t actually do anything?"
Timothy’s breathing grew heavier while her smile widened.
Then she turned on her heel, laughing softly as she walked away.