Chapter 369 The Devil Comes
"What do you want?" Xavier blocked Allen's path to the children's area, eyeing him up and down.
When Darwin was around, Xavier and his team maintained a certain distance from the kids. They had seen Allen with the designer but hadn't caught their conversation.
"I've brought some sweets and milk for the kids," Allen replied with a smile. "Don't worry, I'm the chief designer's assistant. Didn't you see me earlier?"
Xavier hesitated for a moment but eventually let him in.
"Chicago, Charles, afternoon tea is served," Allen said playfully as he stepped up to the duo.
"No thanks, I'm good," Chicago said, shaking her head to decline the offer.
She wasn’t just following the family rule against accepting treats from strangers. Chicago just plain didn't like the guy.
Allen acted as if he hadn't heard a thing and parked himself across from them. "Are you upset about what happened earlier? You can't be so thin-skinned, kiddo," he taunted.
Charles's brow furrowed in annoyance. "My sister said she doesn't want your dessert. You should leave now. Or do I need to call security to show you out?"
Allen was already irritated by Charles's defiant glare. What sort of oddballs had Darwin produced?
"Listen, kid, do you want the whole world to know your sister's dirty little secrets? Then go ahead, shout it out!" Allen sneered. "No way you’re a prodigy painter. Don't kid yourself. Everyone's just being nice to you because of your dad's influence."
He leaned in with a mocking smile on his face. "Come on, be honest, you didn't do those paintings all by yourself, did you? You got a ghost painter, huh? Remember, kids should be honest, or the boogeyman will come get you at night!"
"Back off!"
Charles shot to his feet with a roar, his voice thundering at Allen.
Xavier had been keeping a wary eye on the situation the entire time, and he sprang into action the moment things escalated.
"What's going on here?"
Before Allen could react, Xavier had him pinned to the ground.
"Are you okay, Charles?" Xavier asked.
Charles positioned himself protectively in front of Chicago, glaring down at Allen. "Just because you’re mediocre doesn't mean the rest of the world is like you. Adults like you are worse than useless."
Xavier observed Charles with a sense of recognition. The bearing, the rhetoric... he was definitely Mr. Solomon's son.
"You little punk. How dare you call me useless?" Allen spat out the words as he struggled on the ground.
Charles pulled out his cellphone, crouched down to Allen, and thrust the phone in his face. "You outsourced your homework and your thesis, huh? I guess that's why everyone seems like a cheat to you."
Allen's eyes widened with shock at the screen. "How did you...?"
"It’s just a bit of hacking. Nothing too fancy for a layman like you." Charles coolly retrieved his phone, executed a few taps, and handed it back.
The color drained from Allen's face as he looked at the screen, which was now displaying an email draft addressed to a slew of contacts, including his advisor and the committees of competitions he'd won.
"Come on, kid. It was just a silly argument..."
"You made my sister sad," Charles interjected, casual as can be. As Allen watched, he lightly pressed 'send.' The whistle of the email sent all proof of Allen's academic dishonesty into the digital ether.
"Ah, you scumbag! You little twerp!" Allen completely lost his mind.
Xavier quickly grabbed a rag and shoved it into Allen's mouth.
That was when Darwin, who had heard the commotion, doubled back.
He overheard that hateful word, "scumbag."
"How dare you!" Chicago was furious. "My brother is not a scumbag! He’s amazing!”
"Holy shit!" The designer was on the verge of passing out.
He'd made a mistake. He should have kicked Allen out at the very beginning.
Why did he even think about waiting until after work to dismiss him?
He glanced at Darwin out of the corner of his eye.
Darwin's face was unreadable, devoid of any discernible emotion.
He walked over.
Allen, who was pinned to the ground, felt an overwhelming force, as if the devil himself had emerged from the depths of hell.
"Mr. Solomon..." Xavier said, shamefaced.
Darwin didn’t speak. He squatted down and looked at Allen.
Allen felt fear for the first time.
"What's with the gag? Take it out," Darwin ordered calmly.
"But his words were so vile..." Xavier said gravely.
Darwin stared at him.
Xavier promptly removed the rag.
Allen, who had been full of himself, now looked into Darwin's eyes, filled with terror.
"I just... I was in a rush, I... I didn’t mean any harm,” Allen stammered.
"You can't speak to a child that way," Darwin said icily. "Apologize."
Allen hurriedly apologized. "I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please, forgive me."
Darwin's gaze fell on the bulge in Allen's suit pocket.
He reached over and pulled out a voice recorder.
"That.. what’s that?" Allen's voice trembled.
Darwin stared at him, a fearsome look in his eyes.
Allen, terrified, started crying.
He thought his fate was sealed.
But unexpectedly...
Darwin pocketed the recorder and walked away with the kid.
When Xavier saw that, he let go of Allen.
Allen quickly scrambled up and hid in the corner.
Inside the SUV, Darwin gently stroked Chicago's hair and said, "You don't have get upset over someone like that, Chicago. I promise he won't bother you again."
Chicago felt very wronged.
"My brother’s amazing!"
"Of course, sweetheart," Darwin said with heartfelt sympathy.
He patted Charles's head. "You're awesome, Charles. You kept your sister safe while I was away."
"Will he pay for that?" asked Charles.
Darwin, locking eyes with his son, replied without hesitation, "Definitely."
Charles nodded, dug out a piece of chocolate from his pocket, and handed it to a disconsolate Chicago. "Here, chocolate helps."
Chicago gave him a glance, took the chocolate, unwrapped it, broke it in two, and handed half back to him.
Darwin watched them, filled with relief but also seething with anger.
Darwin didn't wait for his wife to get home after putting Chicago and Charles to bed that night. He stepped out, heading to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts.
Allen was bound to a broken chair, his face covered in blood, his eyes wrapped in a bloodstained cloth.
He wailed and sobbed.
His cries echoed through the desolate place.
Just then, the door creaked open, followed by footsteps.
"Help! Somebody help me!" Allen shouted frantically.
After a crackling noise, a voice filled the warehouse.
"Come on, be honest, you didn't do those paintings all by yourself, did you? You got a ghost painter, huh? Remember, kids should be honest, or the boogeyman will come get you at night!"
When Allen heard that, he started to cry out in fear.
The footsteps stopped right in front of him.
A voice as cold as the depths of hell said, "The boogeyman is here."
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