Beast, Blue Blood - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Yeon-ha, in military attire, descended the stairs.

“Ivan.”

Ivan was seated on the sofa. Yeon-ha asked upon seeing him.

“Where’s Hisha?”

“In his room.”

“He went to meet that friend today.”

Ivan nodded.

“The atmosphere was good until he got into the car, but it felt awkward when he was alone.”

He couldn’t understand how he ended up so concerned about his son’s relationship.

Yeon-ha glanced toward Hisha’s room with a slight frown, then turned to Ivan and asked.

“Is it difficult to prevent them from meeting?”

“We don’t need to do anything. Eugene seems to be a sensible one.”

“The one trying to develop the Luax virus, right?”

Ivan stayed silent for a moment before replying.

“Anyway, you can’t force feelings.”

Yeon-ha sighed softly.

“I’ll go check on him.”

She lightly kissed Ivan and walked through the corridor to Hisha’s room.

“Hisha.”

She knocked and called, and a faint ‘Yes’ came from inside. The door opened, and she entered. The room was dim, and she could see someone lying comfortably on the bed, wearing a loose t-shirt and covered with a blanket below the waist.

“Hisha, have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

Hisha replied softly. She sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hisha.”

Hisha didn’t turn to look at her.

“Mom.”

He pondered for a moment.

“If I said I want ISLE, could I have it?”

“You can have it.”

She replied immediately. It seemed unexpected, and Hisha looked surprised. She spoke to him.

“If you want it, Selena will gladly step aside.”

Though she appeared younger than her son at first glance, her black eyes, reflecting the light from the corridor, gave a momentary glimpse of deep experience.

“But that’s not really what you want, is it?”

Hisha didn’t answer the question, but it seemed to answer for him.

Understanding the earnestness behind the talk of owning ISLE, she had to say.

“Don’t manipulate fate. It’ll only lead you to unhappiness.”

Hisha looked at her, lying down with a thoughtful expression. She brushed aside her son’s bangs, revealing a forehead that looked boyish with its unlined face. Despite growing as big as his father, he still seemed so young, facing such dilemmas.

“It’s more than just a simple relationship issue.”

Suddenly, Hisha looked at his younger self and sat up.

“By the way, I forgot to ask if you came back. How was it?”

She smiled.

“Yeah, I’m back.”

Hisha put his arms around her and hugged her as if to show affection.

“I really like Eugene.”

“I know.”

Yeon-ha stroked her son’s head.

“Come to think of it, I’ve never asked what’s so great about her.”

“She’s cute.”

Hisha responded without hesitation. Yeon-ha blinked at the unexpected answer.

“Cute?”

Hisha smiled as if just thinking about Eugene made him smile.

“Yeah. So cute”

* * *

That settled it.

Eugene thought, looking out beyond the office window. Normally, she would have enjoyed this relationship more, but the problem was that she had developed warm feelings for her partner.

Hisha hoped for a good life. Safe, enjoying an ordinary daily routine. The life Hisha had lived before diving into the Fuger-Dulloch mansion.

“Director.”

At that moment, Nasiri came into the office.

“Look at this.”

He said and an image appeared in front of Eugene. It was a scene of men meeting on a dock. However, there was no sound, and the space they were in was a metaverse. In other words, everything, including the men’s appearance and location, was fake except for the number of men they met there.

Eugene asked, not taking her eyes off the video.

“What am I supposed to see here?”

Nasiri bowed slightly and said.

“These are the perpetrators who planted a bomb in your car, Director. And the man in sunglasses in the middle is Deborah Dexa’s avatar.”

At that moment, Eugene twisted her lips and laughed coldly. She understood why someone had planted a bomb in her car.

* * *

Deborah Dexa was the editor-in-chief of the New York headquarters of the fashion magazine VELLE.

At one time, she had faced crises, but the fashion magazine that had abandoned traditional prints and moved to the virtual world had more readers than ever before, and among them, VELLE was considered a Michelin guide of the fashion industry. Therefore, the pride of Deborah Dexa, who held the position of editor-in-chief of its headquarters, was extraordinary.

Born into a giant fashion conglomerate, she became the editor-in-chief of VELLE’s headquarters in her mid-thirties, and her intellect was as brilliant as her pure blond hair and stunning appearance, truly deserving the praise as a masterpiece created by God. Only admiration followed her wherever she walked.

“Editor-in-chief!”

A staff member ran up to Deborah, even the corridor was like a runway.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s someone in the office right now……”

Unable to figure out what to do, the employee couldn’t say anymore. Normally, Deborah would have dealt with a stumbling employee in an elegant yet cold tone, but she had a strange feeling and headed straight to the office first.

The door opened, and a woman stood there with both hands on her waist, looking out the window. She wore a red skirt with a black blouse and a red jacket draped over her shoulders. And the music was playing loudly enough to give her a headache in the office. It was the aria of the Queen of the Night from the opera Magic Flute.

At that moment, the woman turned around as if she felt a presence and spoke.

“The view from here is worth seeing.”

While Deborah was just staring at Eugene, Eugene approached and asked Deborah to shake hands.

“Eugene Fuger-Dulloch.”

[Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen…….]

‘My heart boils with the fury of hell’s vengeance.’

At that moment, as the aria’s lyrics flowed, Deborah’s heart chilled. But she couldn’t show her fear.

“Nice to meet you.”

Deborah stiffly extended her arm for a handshake. Eugene suddenly pulled her with considerable force.

“……!”

In a whisper, barely audible, Eugene said into Deborah’s ear.

“I don’t care if you sleep with Aleushin or hatch some chick. But if you ever come after me again, make sure of it.”

Though Deborah was an old hand to the extent of being called Sergei’s real wife, she had no interest in recognizing Eugene’s face. However, she didn’t know about the animosity on this side to the extent of trying to get rid of herself amidst the succession war.

“If you fail next time……”

Eugene leaned in so close her lips touched Deborah’s ear. Hearing the story, Deborah turned pale. Like someone who had heard a horrible story beyond imagination.

Seeing her face, Eugene sneered.

‘You planned a bomb terror with such gall.’

There was nothing more to be done. She had thought of showing her true colors if she held her head high and showed an arrogant attitude, but she was willing to view the government’s jealousy. She’d come this far to offer a “warning.” It was cute to see only once.

Eugene lightly pushed Deborah away. Then, Deborah stepped back and trembled with fear. Eugene walked past her carelessly and left through the door.

“You just happened to be born on that spot!”

Deborah shouted, her voice cracking as she started to leave. Eugene stopped and looked over her shoulder.

“That’s the same for you. Dexa’s daughter. Don’t you think Aleushin sprinkled seeds everywhere? There’s always someone better than you.”

Then, Eugene left the office. As the office door closed, Deborah wept, wiping her face with her hands.

When Eugene walked with bodyguards, people gathered at some point, their bodies in a hurry. Everyone was watching, but Eugene passed by as if at a royal ceremony, confident and unaffected.

As Eugene disappeared, the sound of people grumbling followed.

While descending in the elevator and crossing the lobby, people continued to buzz and watch Eugene’s party. Soon, Eugene got into the car parked in front of the building.

As the departing car entered the road, the vehicle AI said alarmingly.

[Sergei Aleushin is calling.]

“Connect.”

Eugene replied unexpectedly, and the local operative glanced at her.

[Sorry.]

Upon hearing the news, Sergei said over the phone.

“Manage the women well.”

Eugene said coldly and told the vehicle AI.

“End the call.”

The AI disconnected the call without hesitation as ordered by its owner. Perhaps the only entities capable of hanging up on Sergei Aleushin like this are AI or Eugene Fuger-Dulloch herself.

* * *

The door opened and Eugene walked in, dressed in a suit and carrying an ice cream cone. Secretaries who saw Eugene stood up awkwardly.

“Director.”

The secretaries’ uneasy demeanor was apparent just by looking through the glass of the office.

Sergei was sitting in what should be her office as the executive director of Knox Genomics. And outside the office, two imposing Russian bodyguards, led by Sergei, were guarding.

When Eugene turned to the secretaries, they wore expressions like convicted felons.

“I’m sorry. Your fiancé…”

“He’s no longer my fiancé.”

Not that the secretaries could do anything against Sergei, even without those big “shoulders” in front of them, so Eugene said and went inside.

Upon seeing Eugene enter the office, Sergei spoke.

“Let’s talk.”