Meal Service (4)
“The Isles are harsh… A child born with an illness. Shylock Isles.” He was aware that Shylock treated only two of his four children as proper children. Vlad slowly tilted his head like a lion sitting on a throne. His expression didn’t change. He was obviously laughing.
Shylock’s fingertips began to tremble slightly.
“As you said, I will give you a chance to save your son.”
“…”
“Only one of the two.”
Blue veins slowly appeared on Shylock’s forehead. His face did not change, but a stiff tendon around his neck and his shoulders trembled. From the moment he started talking, he had been dancing in the duke’s hand.
For him, love was not a weakness in the first place.
Unpredictable, irregular attacks.
He was a man with confidence that he would not be swayed by Shylock even after revealing all of his cards. Rather, it was only because of love that he was imposing in doing all this.
Shylock felt that he was turned upside down. He slowly lowered his hand and set the tableware down on his table. “As you said. The son of Isles is the soul of the family. Lily also has a lot of affection towards him. She left the child with an indelible sadness for the rest of her life…”
“I’m tired now,” Vlad muttered. “I’ll give you ten minutes. Once you run out of time, I’ll treat it as you throwing away both.”
“…If I didn’t choose,”
“I wouldn’t have asked you then. I hate to repeat things, Father.” Vlad beckoned, and the maids took out all the plates from the table. He leaned against his chair, staring at the empty table.
“…”
Shylock knew that he was getting caught up in the conversation he had created, but there was no way out. It was as if he could hear the hands of his pocket watch moving.
Vlad sneered as the corners of Shylock’s eyes began to twitch. The hesitation seemed long, but not too long.
Shylock rolled his green eyes downwards. “…There is no father who can abandon the children of his lineage, Your Highness.” He immediately closed his eyes. “Please save Crocus. Please.”
Vlad didn’t even feel like it was worth ridiculing him.
The maid waiting like a shadow put the plate of dessert down in front of Shylock. It was a honey cake sprinkled with gold powder. The unsuitable, unpleasant sweet tang penetrated through his nose and into his brain.
Opening his eyes, Shylock noticed that the maid had set something else down next to her dessert plate. It was a sheet of finely dried paper.
He looked up suspiciously and then raised his gaze to Vlad. Vlad tipped his chin lightly. It was an unspoken command.
Shylock unfolded the paper mindlessly. As he checked the contents, his eyes fluttered sharply. A vein appeared on his forehead.
There was a tremendous amount of anger that he had never felt in his life. Betrayal and shame.
Contempt for the man sitting in front of him swelled.
Was it all for this?
His clenched fists trembled. There was even a line in his eyes, trying to hold back the rising heat. “It was all lies… From the beginning… The Isles…”
“I was thinking of giving it to my wife as a gift.”
Shylock’s head was in a mess.
Vlad’s voice pierced like a harpoon in his confused mind. “It’s about transferring the management of Isles to your eldest daughter, Lily Isles, and taking your hands off all the business and profits.”
“…”
Shylock wanted to kill the man sitting at the end of the table immediately. He wanted to cut his limbs with a blunt knife and make him feel the greatest pain.
The duke’s plan was perfect. Since the title was inherited within the family, it was not wrong to give Lily the position.
The case of the eldest son Crocus was added.
Blasphemy was a grave felony. The mere saving of his life was to be interpreted as the duke showing a great mercy.
Only Shylock was a loser. There was nothing left on his stack of cards.
Vlad almost seemed to yawn. “If you don’t sign it, the Isles will be dismantled. Also, Crocus Isles’ head is going to decorate Cadid Square. Right now, the construction of the city is coming to an end.”
“…”
Shylock’s hand trembled as he gripped the fountain pen. It felt like his teeth were going to break.
He was in the middle of a cobweb. He had no idea where it started, but Shylock had already wrapped his body around his white thread. The more he moved, the tighter it felt.
The nib, lowered slowly, touched the paper signature line.
The sound of the nib scraping the paper and signing with his signature echoed loudly in the room like a noise.
“How does it feel to be tied up and watch your loved ones break?”
Shylock bit his lip so hard that a stream of blood ran down his lips. He trembled like a nerve-wracked man, and after signing, he couldn’t take his fountain pen off the paper. Black ink pooled on the tip of the signature.
The maid, who had been watching, reached out and took the fountain pen and parchment from his hand.
Shylock’s hand lost strength.
Tak.
“That’s how my wife felt all her life because of you, Shylock Isles.”
The sound of Shylock clenching his teeth reverberated in the dark breakfast room.