Timmy returned home, looking as if he had lost his very soul.
When Ethan Roy heard the sound of the front door opening, he knew his son was back.
"Timmy, how was the party?"
The father's voice rang out from the second floor, carrying a hint of a smile.
Timmy did not answer. He simply ran quickly into his room, and subsequently turned his bedroom into a chaotic mess.
Then, he looked at the diamond pendant lying in the drawer, and the last trace of light in his eyes vanished.
"Timmy, I'm talking to you. Didn't you hear me?"
Ethan Roy's voice sounded from the bedroom doorway. He seemed thoroughly dissatisfied and offended by his son's behavior of ignoring him just now.
"Hey, what's going on with your bedroom? What kind of madness is this?!"
He cursed as he walked into the room, only to see his son sitting continuously on the bed, holding that incredibly familiar diamond pendant in his hand.
"Timmy!"
Ethan Roy stepped forward quickly, snatching the pendant from his son's hand and glaring at him angrily.
"How dare you pry open my safe!
"If you want money, I can give it to you, but didn't I tell you that you are not allowed to touch anything in the safe!"
"..." Timmy opened his mouth, seeming to say something, but his voice was too small for Ethan Roy to hear.
This made him even more unhappy.
"Are you mute? Speak!"
"Hey, don't be so fierce to the child!"
Just then, Ethan Roy's wife, Diana, walked in. She pulled her husband away and then hugged her son preciously in her arms.
"What's wrong, honey? Did you get bullied at school?
"Heavens, why do you smell of alcohol... just how much did you drink?"
She asked gently, reaching out to lightly brush her son's cheek, but then she froze completely.
"Oh God, your face...!"
Diana looked at the slap mark on her son's face in disbelief, her voice sharp and full of anger.
"Who was it? Who hit you! Those guys, how could they... how dare they treat you like this!"
Ethan Roy's attention finally shifted from that damned necklace to the clear five-finger imprint on his son's face.
His brows furrowed tightly, but the point of his anger was diametrically opposite to his wife's.
"You got into a fight?" His voice was low, carrying an interrogative tone. "At the party? You disgraceful thing!"
"Is this the time to talk about that?!" Diana whipped her head around, her well-maintained beautiful eyes now filled with incredulity.
"Our son was beaten! And that's what you care about?!"
"What else?" Ethan stuffed the necklace back into his pocket and paced irritably around the room.
"He is the son of a Cabinet Minister! His every move outside represents me!
"Do you know how much impact it will cause if this matter spreads?
"That damned Mycroft might even use this to trip me up!"
"You—!"
"Stop arguing..."
Just as the couple was at daggers drawn, Timmy's voice, sounding as faint as a mosquito, finally rang out again.
He raised his head. Those eyes that were originally full of arrogance now held only emptiness and fear.
"Phantom Thief... it was Phantom Thief Moriarty..."
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Ethan Roy shouted sternly to stop him. His scalp went numb the moment he heard that name now.
"Are you confused from drinking? The Phantom Thief stole my things; what does that have to do with you! Why would he hit you?!"
"No... he... because... because of those letters..." Timmy's voice remained fragmented.
"And... Russell Watson..."
Ethan Roy listened to his son's incoherent ravings, the flames of anger in his chest burning hotter and hotter.
However, just as he was about to flare up again, a thought struck him like lightning.
The Phantom Thief... broke into his home.
"That damned thief entered our house, is that what you mean?!"
He grabbed Timmy by the collar, his eyes staring dead at him.
"Answer me!"
Timmy nodded trembling, and the blood drained rapidly from Ethan Roy's face.
"Damn it... damn it, damn it, damn it!"
He could no longer care about disciplining his son, nor did he pay attention to his wife's confused shouts.
He turned abruptly and rushed out of the bedroom like a madman.
"Ethan! Where are you going?!"
Ethan did not answer.
He rushed down the stairs, heading straight for the study on the first floor. A massive sense of panic gripped his heart like a cold hand.
He charged to the bookshelf, his hands trembling as he pulled out three books in a specific order, revealing the hidden compartment behind them.
Empty. The kraft paper envelope containing all his Bribery Records was gone.
Ethan's mind went blank instantly.
"No, there's still... there's still the guest room!"
He rushed out of the study again like a lunatic, running toward the guest room at the other end of the corridor. He pushed open the door that hadn't been opened for a long time.
He dashed to the bedside and almost violently lifted the mattress.
Under the bed, the iron box used to store the fond memories between him and his mistresses was still there.
A thread of hope ignited in Ethan's heart. He opened the box.
Empty.
It was over.
Everything was over.
Ethan Roy collapsed onto the carpet like a mollusk that had all its bones removed.
His breathing became rapid, and cold sweat soaked his expensive shirt.
He knew what awaited him once those things were exposed. It wasn't just his position, nor just a ruined reputation, but a cold prison cell.
No... there was one last place.
The safe.
But the moment this thought arose, Ethan couldn't even be bothered to move.
He fished that diamond necklace out of his pocket and threw it irritably to the side.
That damned Phantom Thief had absolutely no interest in money or wealth.
Ethan Roy held his head in his hands, tugging at his hair desperately, wishing he could pull a remedy out of his brain.
Just then, he heard shouting from his wife.
"Ethan Roy!"
The voice sounded so angry, so urgent, so... annoying.
Ethan Roy did not answer.
"Ethan Roy!!"
Diana's voice rang out once again, its pitch so sharp it was like someone scratching their fingernails across a blackboard.
Ethan lifted his head irritably, about to scold his wife to stop disturbing his final moments of peace.
"Diana, what exactly do you want!"
However, when his gaze passed through the dim corridor and saw his wife standing at the door of the master bedroom, his pupils constricted abruptly.
Diana stood there, clutching a photo in her hand.
Although he couldn't see clearly what the photo was due to the lighting and distance.
He could probably guess it with his toes.
"What do I want?"
Diana's voice sounded as if it were squeezed out from between her teeth. She walked over step by step.
"I should be asking you that—what do you want!"
She threw the photo onto her husband's face.
"Who is this woman?!"
Ethan slowly lowered his head and picked up the photo that had slid to his feet.
On the back of the photo, written in a flamboyant handwriting, was that demonic message sufficient to completely tear apart all his family's pretenses:
[A trivial gift, to Mrs. Roy — Moriarty]
"Moriarty..."
Ethan muttered to himself, clutching the photo in his hand, as his wife's teeth-gritting voice rang in his ears.
"Ethan Roy, my lawyer will contact you tomorrow."
Diana's voice was as cold as a block of ice.
"We are done."
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