Marcel pointed at the addition problem in the textbook, his brow furrowed as though questioning the very intelligence of his nephew.
"The method is freaking simple," he said, voice sharp. "What is there not to understand?"
Leo scratched his head, eyes wide with confusion. "It doesn't make sense. Why do we have to add like that? It's weird."
Marcel exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It doesn't matter if it's weird or not. That's just how you do it."
"Oh… Uncle, show me again," Leo pleaded, his tone innocent but stubborn.
Marcel thought grimly that maybe his sister should be the one teaching him. A little scolding might hammer the math into that thick skull. He tapped the page. "Add six plus eight."
Leo began counting on his fingers, muttering under his breath. "Seven, eight, nine… seventeen."
Marcel froze. "…Where did you get seventeen from?"
Leo blinked, sheepish. "It's not correct?"
Marcel dragged his hand down his face aggressively, fighting the urge to groan. He was starting to suspect Leo was doing this on purpose. They had been at it for forty five minutes and the brat still couldn't solve the problem.
Suddenly, a knock rattled the office door. Marcel glanced at Leo. "Count again," he ordered.
Leo pouted but began to count once more, his little fingers wiggling. "Seven… eight…"
"Come in," Marcel called.
The door opened, and Archie stepped inside, pink hair damp with sweat. "Boss—" he began, but his eyes landed on Leo, and he instantly shut his mouth.
Marcel's instincts sharpened. Whatever Archie had to say wasn't meant for Leo's ears. He rose, grabbed Archie's arm, and led him out of the office. "Keep working on the questions," he told Leo, closing the door firmly behind him.
Inside, Leo sat in silence, staring at the numbers he didn't understand. His pout deepened. Slowly, his short legs carried him across the room. He reached his uncle's desk, and reached for the drawers his uncle had told him never to touch. Leo hesitated only a moment before pulling it open.
The bottom drawers were locked, as usual, but the two top ones slid open easily under Leo's small hands. The first was filled with papers and snacks, half-empty packets of jerky, crumpled receipts, and neatly stacked documents.
The second drawer held something different. Nestled among loose sheets was a cracked photo frame. Leo pulled it out carefully. The picture showed his uncle in a military uniform, looking impossibly young. Beside him was a handsome man, pressing a kiss to Marcel's cheek. Marcel's smile in the photo was faint, almost shy. The crack across the glass suggested it had been dropped either purposefully or by accident.
Leo stared at it, chewing on a strip of beef jerky he had taken from the drawer.
Meanwhile, outside the office, Marcel's voice was low and sharp. "What's going on?" he asked Archie.
Archie shifted uneasily. "We got a call from Mr. Ren. He said you had a scuffle with his nephew today… and now he wants a fight tonight."
Marcel sneered. "With his nephew?"
Archie shook his head. "No. He said he would… pick someone to fight in his place."
Marcel's smile curved slyly. "Conditions?"
Archie licked his dry lips, nervous. "They said they don't want anything. Just to put you in your place."
Marcel's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let them put me in my place then."
He turned to head back into his office, but Archie grabbed his arm. "Boss, let me fight. You don't have to do this alone."
Marcel sighed, the weight of inevitability pressing on his shoulders. "I started this, so I will deal with it. Just make sure everyone's on high alert. I suspect this isn't so simple."
Archie hesitated, reluctant, but Marcel's tone left no room for argument. "Sure, boss. I will take care of it."
Marcel patted his shoulder and pushed open the office door. His steps froze.
There, on the couch, sat the kid who should have been bent over his homework. Instead, Leo was happily chewing beef jerky, holding the cracked photo frame in his small hands.
Marcel's jaw tightened. That frame had been hidden for a reason.
Leo tilted his head, holding up the cracked frame. "Who is this? Your friend?"
Marcel's expression hardened instantly. He snatched the picture from Leo's hands and shoved it back into the desk drawer with a sharp motion. "I will ban you from my office," he warned, his voice low.
Leo blinked, startled. "Uncle, why are you so mad? Did your friend make you angry?"
Marcel's jaw tightened. "Maybe I should tell your mother to help you with your homework from now on."
Leo instantly regretted snooping. He clung to Marcel's thigh, his small arms wrapping tight. "Uncle, no!"
Marcel stared down at him, unimpressed. "…"
Leo's voice dropped to a desperate whine. "Mum is really scary when she teaches me. Her veins pop out!"
Marcel raised a brow. "I am going to tell her what you said."
Leo's big eyes filled with tears as he begged for mercy, but Marcel didn't fall for his tricks. He straightened, pulling out his phone. "Do your homework."
Leo pouted, slumping back onto the couch, glaring at his workbook like it was an enemy he had to fight.
Marcel swiped his lock screen and typed a quick message to his sister, Lira: Come get your offspring, he is being a menace.
Her reply came almost instantly. She sent a laughing cat sticker followed by: What did he do now?
Marcel's thumbs moved fast: Causing trouble. Come get him.
Lira sent back an "okay" emoji. Marcel set his phone down, only to meet Leo's resentful eyes.
"Don't look at me like that," Marcel said flatly. "If you don't do your homework, I will ban you from the gym. I will even put your picture on the notice board with everyone I banned."
Leo's stubbornness flared, but he loved hanging out at the gym after school. The threat hit home. He puffed his cheeks, pouted, and finally lowered his head to the workbook. His fingers began wiggling again as he counted. "Seven… eight… nine…"
Marcel sighed as he leaned back into the couch, exhaustion pressing against his shoulders.
An hour later, he was walking his nephew out, one hand holding Leo's small fingers, the other carrying his school bag.
Lira had just parked the car and stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement. She walked over, pinching Leo's cheek. "Le Le, what did you do?"
Leo squirmed. "Mum, I didn't do anything."
Marcel tossed the bag into the backseat. "Nothing, really?" he said flatly, then pointed inside the car. "Get in."
"Fine," Leo muttered, climbing in with a sulk. Marcel shut the door and turned to face his sister.
"Are you not coming home again?" Lira asked, her tone soft but edged with concern.
"I have something to take care of," Marcel replied.
She reached up, fixing his hair like she had when they were children. "Don't get into trouble."
Marcel smirked. "When do I ever get in trouble?"
Lira wanted to argue, but instead she smiled faintly. She knew better than anyone the sacrifices he had made, the years he had spent pulling her out of the Varcano family's grip, the scars he carried from debts paid in blood. He could take care of himself, but worry was a habit she couldn't shake.
"Just make sure you get enough sleep," she said. "Don't overwork yourself."
"Yeah, yeah. You worry too much."
He pointed at the car window, where Leo's face was plastered against the glass, staring at him with sad, wounded eyes. "His math is shit. He needs help with his homework."
Lira's gaze snapped to her son, and that look alone made Leo shudder. He quickly slid away from the window.
"I will take care of it," she said, climbing into the car. She waved at her brother.
"Drive safe," Marcel replied, waving back.
He stood there, watching the car pull away, Leo's eyes locked on him like he had been wronged. Marcel turned to head back inside, but something gnawed at him. His gut twisted. He paused, scanning the street.
Pedestrians strolled by, cars passed, nothing unusual. But his instincts screamed otherwise. His gut had never failed him.
Sure enough, in a place Marcel couldn't see, a man lowered a camera. He typed a message to an unsaved number: Found him.
The reply came instantly: Good.