Chapter 577 If She Really Died, What Would Albert's Reaction Be?
The cold white light cast angular shadows across David's face as he leaned back in his leather chair, fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the armrest.
Efrain stood before him, shoulders hunched deferentially, listening with rapt attention to David's leisurely tale.
"That stray cat was the first one I ever fed," David's voice carried a deceptive warmth, tinged with amusement. "At first, when I offered it food, it would hiss and claw, refusing to come near. But after feeding it for a while, it grew comfortable enough to let me approach."
Efrain nodded along, genuinely invested in what he believed was simply a story about a stray cat.
"I felt sorry for it—homeless, abandoned—so I decided to catch it and bring it inside," David continued, his tone growing softer. "But the ungrateful thing wasn't satisfied. It ran away."
Efrain made a sympathetic sound.
David's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, though his smile took on an unsettling quality. "So I caught it again. And again it ran. This happened several times." He paused, suddenly lifting his gaze to meet Efrain's, his eyes sharp as blades. "Care to guess what happened next?"
Efrain hesitated, then ventured uncertainly, "Did you manage to tame it?"
"No. Some wild things are simply untamable. But that's perfectly fine," David's eyes glittered with something predatory, his smile turning contemptuous. "Because eventually, the cat died."
A chill ran down Efrain's spine despite the room's comfortable temperature.
He fought to maintain his composure, but David's words cut through him like arctic wind, leaving him anything but calm.
The implication hit him like a sledgehammer, though he desperately hoped he was misreading the subtext.
"Things that won't behave, things you can't have—sometimes it's better when they're just... gone," David added with casual cruelty, his voice lifting slightly as if savoring the moment.
Efrain felt David's unwavering gaze dissecting his every reaction. Despite the smile playing on David's lips, his eyes remained glacial, fixed on Efrain with predatory intensity.
The assistant's back broke out in cold sweat—he truly wished he didn't understand the real meaning behind this story.
Just as Efrain struggled to formulate a response, the menacing aura surrounding David suddenly dissipated.
He waved dismissively. "Well, story time's over. You can go now. Handle the rest of the investigation however you see fit—I'll extract what I need from Violet myself."
"Yes, Mr. Valdemar." Efrain fled the office like a man escaping a burning building, while David merely shrugged with indifference and let out a derisive chuckle.
He looked down at the papers detailing Yvette's condition and shook his head slowly. If she really did die, he wondered what Albert's reaction would be.
Albert returned home unusually early that day. Yvette had just picked up the children and arrived home when Albert walked through the door, handing his coat to the waiting staff.
"You're home early today," Yvette observed with surprise.
"After pushing everyone so hard lately, I figured they deserved a breather," Albert replied, loosening his tie.
Yvette laughed softly, impressed by his self-awareness. "So the capitalist acknowledges his exploitative ways?"
Albert's smile was wry. "They have you to thank for that."
Yvette understood his meaning and felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Before she could respond, the children heard Albert's voice and came running from the kitchen, their hands still damp from washing.
"Daddy!" BoBo and CiCi launched themselves at Albert's legs, leaving wet handprints on his expensive trousers.
"Babies, your hands are still wet! You're getting your daddy's pants all damp," Yvette chided gently.
"It doesn't matter," Albert said, scooping both children into his arms. "Did you miss me?"
"Yes!" CiCi wrapped her arms around Albert's neck. "Daddy, it feels like forever since we've seen you!"
BoBo explained matter-of-factly, "He works so late that we're always asleep when he comes home."
"And when we wake up in the morning, the staff says you've already left for work," CiCi added, frowning at Albert with accusation. "Do you really love work that much? Even when Mommy was a workaholic, she still made time for us."
Albert felt a pang of guilt at CiCi's reproachful tone. "Would you like me to spend more time with you both?"
"Yes!" both children chorused, nodding emphatically.
"Then I will," Albert promised simply. "You have my word."
Albert didn't elaborate with grand promises, but Yvette knew that when he gave his word to the children, he would follow through. He would find a way to spend more time with them.
Beatrice emerged from the kitchen, hesitating to interrupt the heartwarming family scene. But CiCi spotted her immediately and squirmed to get down from Albert's arms.
"Daddy, Mommy, BoBo—I'm hungry! I want to eat Beatrice's cooking!" she announced, running toward the kitchen without a backward glance.
Albert watched his daughter's swift departure with bemused resignation.
"That child's attention span is remarkably short," Yvette commented, equally bewildered.
Albert frowned slightly, a hint of self-doubt creeping in. "You don't think she was just pretending to miss me, do you?"
Yvette stared at Albert in amazement—the formidable Albert Valdemar, actually worried about whether his daughter's affection was genuine?
Albert caught her expression and quickly masked his vulnerability, though not before she noticed.
Pretending nothing had happened, Yvette said seriously, "Well, at least your employees will get to leave early now, thanks to the children."
Albert's mouth quirked upward. "They have you to thank, really."
"Why me?" Yvette asked, puzzled.
"Because you gave me these two children, and they're the reason my staff gets any reprieve at all."
Yvette's face flushed crimson. Albert had an uncanny ability to catch her completely off guard with such statements.
Seeing her flustered reaction, Albert raised an eyebrow. "Let's go eat dinner. And tonight, we're putting the children to bed early."
"But tomorrow's Saturday—they don't have school," Yvette protested.
"Whether there's school or not, going to bed early and getting up early is good for their health," Albert replied with mock seriousness, though Yvette detected something else in his expression—something she couldn't quite identify.
Testing the waters, she said, "Fine, I'll put them to bed early and stay with them."
"Absolutely not," Albert countered smoothly. "Last night, in the middle of everything, you promised me a 'next time' evaluation."
"When did I say that?" Yvette started to protest, then suddenly remembered the previous night when, half-delirious from his relentless attention, he had pressed against her and demanded roughly, "Tell me—am I good enough?" Too proud to say no but unwilling to give him the satisfaction, she had weakly offered "next time" as a deflection.
Seeing recognition dawn in her eyes, Albert's smile turned predatory. "I'll be waiting for that evaluation tonight."
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