Chapter 98

Richard looked torn between amusement and disbelief.

"I hadn't actually gotten involved in anything like that at thirteen—"

Elena's eyes lit up.

"So you did later!"

Richard tapped her lightly on the head.

"If by that you mean collecting protection money on street corners, no. I've never done that. I've used guns and knives overseas. That's about as close as I ever got."

Elena narrowed her eyes at him.

Richard lowered his hand and rubbed her earlobe between his fingers.

"I'll tell you those stories another time."

"Fine."

She gave him a suspicious look before turning another page of the album.

"You still looked scary, though. Really handsome, but scary."

Richard chuckled.

"I wish we'd met earlier too."

Elena looked up.

"Although," he added, "it's probably a good thing we didn't."

"Because you didn't want a girlfriend?"

"I didn't. But if I'd met you, I probably would've liked you anyway."

Elena smiled.

Richard's expression remained calm.

"And back then, my preferred method of disagreeing with my father was fighting with him. Imagine how that would've gone."

"Oh."

Elena immediately understood.

"Your father would've hated me, so we would've run away together and become some tragic young couple on the run."

Richard sighed.

"Why are you so determined to give me a criminal past?"

Elena laughed and went back to the album.

There weren't many photographs.

Before long, she reached the years when Richard was sixteen or seventeen.

The awkward, painfully lean boy from the earlier pictures was gone.

His body had finally begun catching up with his frame. The broad shoulders were filling out, and muscle had replaced the sharp, almost skeletal lines of early adolescence.

In one photograph, he wore a fitted black training shirt and carried a heavy sandbag in one hand. His forearm was taut with effort, veins visible beneath the skin.

He looked like he could put a fist through a door.

His expression hadn't softened either.

If anything, the added weight and the colder look in his eyes made him seem even less approachable.

Elena was about to comment when she turned the page.

Her hand stopped.

The next photograph showed two people.

A sixteen- or seventeen-year-old Richard stood beneath an enormous oak tree, already towering over most adults.

Beside him stood another man.

He appeared to be around thirty and wore a simple white shirt. He was tall as well, only slightly shorter than Richard, but strikingly thin. His complexion was pale, his features softer, his eyes gentle and almond-shaped.

Even in a still photograph, there was a fragile quality to him.

Elena lowered her voice.

"Is that William?"

"Yes."

Richard's answer was quiet.

Elena studied the photograph.

"He was tall too."

Then a thought occurred to her.

"Victoria really is his biological daughter, right?"

"Evelyn was very short."

"...Okay."

Elena kept staring at the photograph.

At first glance, the brothers didn't look much alike.

Then she covered the upper half of their faces with her hand.

"Oh."

Their jawlines and mouths were surprisingly similar.

Elena slowly nodded.

"I think I understand Evelyn now."

Richard glanced at her.

Elena spread her hands as though preparing to present a serious academic theory.

"She liked William."

She pointed at the photograph.

"So this was her type."

Then her finger moved toward the younger Richard.

"And you were... very much not that type."

She poked the photograph where Richard's arm was.

"It was an aesthetic preference!"

Richard looked at her helplessly.

Elena became even more excited.

"Maybe Victoria inherited it."

"That isn't quite how genetics works."

Elena puffed out her cheeks.

"My biology grades were terrible. I failed all the time."

Richard pinched her cheek.

"Visual preferences that complex aren't passed down as a neat piece of genetic code."

"Fine, Professor Sterling."

"But learned responses are another matter."

Elena looked at him.

Richard's expression became more thoughtful.

"Even very young children pick up emotional cues from their caregivers. Especially repeated ones."

His thumb brushed absently over her cheek.

"Evelyn resented me. She thought it was unfair that William was the one who was terminally ill."

Elena's smile faded.

"She wished it had been you?"

"Yes."

Richard said it without emotion.

"William died when Victoria was still very young. By then, Evelyn understood that she needed my protection. Without it, relatives on her side—and people connected to her late husband's family—would have gone after the assets she and Victoria had inherited."

"So she acted like she liked you."

"She was always polite."

Richard's mouth curved faintly.

"But people can control their words more easily than their bodies."

He paused.

"Imagine a small child in her mother's arms. Every time I walk into the room, her mother's breathing changes. Her body stiffens. Her expression changes, even if she smiles."

Elena slowly stopped smiling too.

"A child doesn't understand why," Richard continued. "She only learns that this person makes her mother afraid or uncomfortable."

"Oh."

Elena suddenly understood.

"So years later, even if she barely remembers her mother, some part of her still associates you with danger."

"Possibly."

Richard didn't present it as certainty.

"Children learn associations very quickly. That doesn't mean it explains everything about Victoria, but it may have contributed."

Elena opened her mouth, then stopped.

Wait.

She had assumed Richard might once have asked a psychologist why his niece had disliked him so much as a child.

But he sounded suspiciously familiar with the subject himself.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You did go to college, right?"

Richard looked at her.

"No. I spent those years collecting protection money and overturning street vendors' carts."

"...I know you're being sarcastic, but your face is so serious that I almost believe you."

The corner of Richard's mouth lifted.

"I have several degrees."

Elena immediately sat straighter.

"In what?"

"You tell me."

"Psychology?"

"Close."

"Sociology?"

"Not remotely."

"Forensic science?"

Richard turned to her in genuine disbelief.

"What?"

Elena narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Are you serious?"

"Hmph."

She turned away.

"Forget it. If you don't want to tell me, don't."

He was obviously baiting her.

She refused to play along.

She would find out eventually anyway.

Elena looked back at the photograph.

"Anyway, if you already understand why Victoria might have reacted to you that way, then neither of you really needs to be blamed for it. She couldn't control what she felt as a child, and you couldn't control it either."

Richard lowered his eyes to her.

"I thought you didn't like her."

Elena paused.

"If you loved her, I'd try to be good to her."

She meant it.

She would try.

Whether she succeeded was another question.

Fortunately, uncle and niece didn't seem particularly attached to each other.

"I'm not going to pretend in front of you," Elena continued. "Victoria and I don't get along. We didn't get along even before I knew you."

Richard seemed to appreciate the honesty.

"I know."

Elena's lashes lowered.

"And if I'm looking at it purely from a practical standpoint, she should've pretended to like you even if she didn't."

Richard said nothing.

"She's smart. She did well in school. She should've understood pretty early that getting along with you would make her life easier."

Elena tapped the edge of the photograph.

"If she couldn't even fake it properly, then maybe the aversion really was instinctive."

She had no interest in taking every available opportunity to criticize Victoria.

Richard and William seemed to have cared about each other, and William had looked after his younger brother when they were growing up.

There was no reason for Elena to sit here attacking his brother's daughter.

Besides, Victoria already had enough problems of her own. Elena had no reason to rush in and make things worse.

And if Richard had started paying attention to the people around his niece, that simplified things considerably.

Several of Victoria's friends had histories that were far from clean.

In the original story, some of them had eventually been willing to help cover up a death.

Elena could afford to be patient.

She wrapped her arms around Richard's neck.

"All I'm saying is that it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't hers. So don't secretly brood over it."

Richard stared at the young woman in his arms.

She had just delivered an entire speech with the seriousness of someone comforting a wounded child.

He sighed.

"What exactly do you think I'm brooding over?"

His hand settled around her waist.

"Even back then, I didn't have time to agonize over whether a little girl liked me."

Richard leaned back slightly and looked through the windows at the snow drifting across the dark grounds.

"When I was developing mining and renewable-energy projects overseas, my father refused to help me. Sometimes he actively made things harder."

Elena went still.

"There were people whose interests I threatened. There were also people inside the family who wanted me gone."

His voice remained calm.

"I was attacked. Someone once poisoned my water. There were attempts to trap me in mining regions during periods of unrest."

He looked back at her.

"Staying alive took up most of my attention."

Elena frowned.

The playful brightness in her eyes disappeared almost immediately.

A few moments ago, she had been calculating relationships, choosing her words carefully, clever as a little fox.

Now there was only concern.

Richard watched her quietly.

Good.

Everything else was secondary.

He liked the way she looked at him when she cared.