Chapter 43
Plans tend to go awry. Hunter knew this fact all too well. If life had gone according to plan, he never would have joined the organization or met Federico in the first place.
To be honest, Hunter rather enjoyed it when plans went off the rails. He found it interesting when something interfered with his carefully laid schemes. It was all about perspective—maybe that interference could bring a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
All things considered, it’s best to just roll with the punches. Hunter glanced at the bodyguard patting him down, then adjusted his glasses. After confirming he had no weapons, the large man stepped aside from where he’d been blocking the entrance.
Hunter entered the elevator and dusted himself off. Lately, it feels like I’m being played by these kids. He never imagined Taylor would actually summon him personally. The kid knew about the tracking device and knew Hunter would come looking.
Hunter rummaged through his jacket pocket and sighed when he realized his phone had been confiscated. He could just imagine it blowing up with messages right now. Hunter, who had essentially been under house arrest, had slipped out of the mansion early this morning by manipulating the CCTV and security locks. What could he do? A promising young talent was waiting for him.
Hunter exited the elevator and walked down the long corridor. On the left side, someone was crouching in front of a door. Black sweater, black pants. Even the shoes were black. Coordinated outfit? Hunter approached him.
“I didn’t know there was a dress code.”
Guess I missed the memo. Hunter smiled ruefully and extended his hand to Taylor. Taylor looked up, glanced down at his own clothes, and smirked.
“It’s my favorite color.”
“Doesn’t show dirt either. The housekeeper must love that.”
Taylor smiled and took his hand.
“You definitely look livelier than before. Good to see.”
“I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“Not at all. I’m grateful, actually. You even reached out first.”
Hunter said as he followed Taylor into the room. Does he live here alone? He quickly surveyed the space. A dim red light was blinking in the corner of the ceiling.
“That’s broken,” Taylor said as he sat down, noticing Hunter’s gaze.
“I’m not particularly fond of being watched either.”
Ooh. Hunter’s lips twitched. Yes, that’s much more interesting. Sitting across from Taylor, Hunter barely managed to suppress the laugh that was about to escape.
“I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I didn’t keep my promise.”
“Ah. Don’t worry about it. Like I said before, I’m used to being suspected by now.”
Taylor picked up a coffee cup and took a sip. There was also a cup emitting a rich aroma placed in front of Hunter. Hunter’s hand naturally reached for it but then hesitated.
“Not a coffee person, I see?”
“Hmm, can’t say I particularly enjoy it.”
“What do you like, then?”
“If I said I liked tea here, you’d probably report to Samantha that I love coffee, wouldn’t you?”
Hunter leaned back against the chair. Taylor, who had been quietly watching the ripples in his coffee cup, set it down.
“If it’s about that incident, you don’t need to worry. I can clean it up.”
“And then you’ll think I’m threatening you. My image will plummet to the depths of villainy.”
Hunter shook his head. I’m already being wronged here.
“I was just making a small rebellion because I didn’t want to be used anymore.”
“A small rebellion, you say. Then you should have removed the device from the start.”
“I didn’t want to lose the chance to rebel entirely.”
Hunter raised the corner of his mouth. You’ve gotten pretty comfortable, haven’t you, Taylor? Or is this your true self?
“True self…”
Could be. Taylor smiled bitterly.
“Judging by that smile, you seem to have your own circumstances, but I’m not really that free, you know.”
“I’m not going to tell you everything either. Rushing things increases the chance of failure.”
Taylor stood up and picked up a stack of files neatly arranged on the bookshelf.
“These are materials about the group that kidnapped me.”
“Oh, did you research this on the internet? How cute.”
“No, I wrote them myself.”
Taylor pushed the files toward Hunter. They’re pretty thick. Hunter flipped through them without much expectation but then stopped. Somewhere in the middle, a familiar name caught his eye.
“…Cenaline shot Capo Nicholas?”
Nicholas was one of the Gostin family’s spies who had survived undetected within the Cenaline organization for a long time. They’d been suspicious of his loyalty due to the recent radio silence.
And now he’s been suddenly shot? Hunter glared at Taylor.
“What is this?”
“The people who kidnapped me talked a lot in front of me. No one was wary—I was just barely breathing in the corner.”
“So all this content is what you saw and heard back then, remembered without missing a single detail, and then wrote down?”
“My memory’s better than most people’s.”
It’s one of the few things I can actually brag about, Taylor said.
“Why are you showing this to me?”
Hunter closed the file.
“It’s the best way to protect my mother.”
“From what?”
Hunter asked. Taylor silently flipped through the file and pointed to a specific section. Hunter narrowed his eyes.
“The Mandro Family?”
Ah.
Hunter grinned. Samantha’s karma, which had been building up all this time, was finally coming due. The most narrow-minded and reckless group among the numerous criminal organizations she’d rejected until now was beginning to sharpen their blade of revenge.
“You do realize what you’re proposing to me, right?”
Taylor calmly nodded. It was the moment when an obstacle that had disrupted the plan was approaching as an enormous opportunity. Hunter looked Taylor up and down, thinking. To think that Samantha’s own son would ask the Gostin Family for help.
“Samantha would have a fit if she knew.”
“She’s righteous but foolish.”
“She’ll definitely oppose it.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’ll keep it a secret?”
“Mother can stay in her virtuous role and receive people’s respect like she does now. I’ll just be the one to dirty my hands.”
“Huh.”
So you’re sacrificing yourself for your mother’s sake? What a cliché, typical filial son.
Taylor was someone who would naturally inherit money and prestige in ten years—hell, even five years. He would have lived in a clean, orderly world just like he had until now, and when the time came, he would have grasped success without lifting a finger. Yet here he was, entering a gloomy, depressing world and asking for help.
“I’m surprised. It seems the young master finds a criminal organization with no hope of rehabilitation more reliable than the police or FBI.”
“If they’d done their job properly, people like you wouldn’t exist.”
I don’t trust them anymore. Hunter laughed out loud at Taylor’s words. Ha ha, you’re absolutely right.
“Once you step into this world, you can’t go back to how things were.”
Taylor laughed coldly at Hunter’s warning.
“I’ve already stepped in. I’ve been tainted for a long time.”
Taylor rolled up the sweater he was wearing and showed Hunter the blue bruises and knife marks that still hadn’t faded. Hunter’s smile disappeared as he tilted his head.
“Just because you’ve rolled in the mud doesn’t mean you need to cover yourself in filth.”
“Whatever I’ve become, I can’t go back to being as clean as I was before.”
Hunter raised an eyebrow at Taylor, who was speaking so calmly and directly.
“Are you sure you won’t regret this?”
I’m tired of cleaning up after kids. Hunter stood up and faced Taylor. In the eyes of Taylor, who was staring directly back at him, Hunter read a bitter anger.
Yes. That’s the look.
With a satisfied expression, Hunter nodded and lifted Taylor’s chin. As Hunter’s face drew closer, Taylor flinched in surprise but then seemed to realize something and obediently opened his mouth.
It was the decisive moment of accepting a passionate and solemn oath. Just as the lips of Taylor, whose bruises had not yet faded, were about to meet Hunter’s, Hunter whispered softly:
“Welcome to your fall to the filthiest depths.”
