Don't test me, little mouse.

Sherryl didn't understand his expression, subtly going back to eating her food while occasionally glancing at Dallion, who hadn't spoken about the matter. She didn’t understand the mafia families here. She had heard about celebrating birthdays, but celebrating the ones who had already passed away and weren’t even around? She didn’t know why they were still counting the years.

Every once in a while, Sherryl glanced at him, and at one fine moment, Dallion’s eyes snapped at her, clearly annoyed by her constant stares. Sherryl quickly looked away. How could this man sense everything around him, as though he had invisible eyes at the back of his head?

"Dallion, aren’t you going to take part in the celebration?" asked his stepmother, her voice sweet as sugar, making Sherryl twitch slightly. She could see why Dallion didn't get along with his stepmother and stepsister. They were overly sweet to the point of making her skin crawl. Their attitude, mixed with their superficial charm, didn't help matters either. But then again, she had heard that most people in the Cross empire behaved like this—high and mighty, dripping with pompous airs.

"I'll bring some flowers to her grave," Dallion responded calmly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin before standing up from his seat.

"What about here? The decoration? We need to make this place look grand for the occasion," stated Rose, his stepsister, excited for the upcoming gathering.

Dallion leaned over the table, grabbing a few grapes and popping them into his mouth. "I’ll pass," he replied nonchalantly.

Sherryl discreetly glanced at the other family members. Grace his elder sister, didn’t comment and continued to eat in silence. The mother-daughter duo, however, stared at Dallion, clearly unhappy with his lack of contribution.

His stepmother, Flora, began, "She wouldn’t be happy—"

"She was my mother, not yours," Dallion interrupted coldly before she could continue. The already tense atmosphere in the dining room turned dead silent. Sherryl felt awkward, as though she were intruding on something she had no right to witness. She debated excusing herself, maybe claiming to need a breath of fresh air, but that would probably make things more uncomfortable. There was definitely something unspoken within the Cross family.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Dallion continued, his tone clipped. "I have somewhere to be. Have a lovely day, ladies and gentlemen." His eyes flicked to Sherryl, silently commanding her to follow him.

She was almost done with her meal, just two more spoonfuls in her bowl. Reluctantly, Sherryl abandoned the food, setting the spoon down quietly. Though he hadn’t said much, his icy tone lingered, making it clear there was no room for argument.

Following him closely, Sherryl padded barefoot along the cold marble floors. The chill from the rainy weather outside seeped into the floors of the mansion, leaving the entire place feeling cold and unwelcoming. She didn’t know where they were headed, but she trailed after him anyway, silently complying with his unspoken order.

At the door, a maid hurriedly moved to grab Dallion’s coat from the stand. Before she could help him into it, Dallion raised a hand to stop her.

"Give it to her," he said, motioning toward Sherryl. The maid didn’t hesitate, practically shoving the coat into Sherryl’s hands before scurrying away. Knowing better than to argue, Sherryl stepped forward, opening the jacket and helping him into it without a word.

Dallion moved past the mansion's entrance, waiting for his car to be brought around. Sherryl kept her distance, standing a few paces away, though she noticed him glancing toward her.

"What’s with the distance?" Dallion’s voice cut through the quiet, his tone edged with irritation. Sherryl could tell his mood was foul. Was it the preparations for his deceased mother’s memorial that had him on edge? He had seemed fine earlier in the day, but ever since they stepped into the dining room, his mood had darkened.

She took a small step closer, though the gap between them was still considerable—at least four full steps. When she met his gaze again, his narrowed eyes were fixed on her. Swallowing nervously, she took another step. What had she done to annoy him? She hadn’t said a word since they left the dining room, and she had helped him with his coat, hadn’t she?

"Don’t test me, little mouse. Stand here," he ordered, pointing to the spot beside him. Her heart quivered slightly at his commanding tone, but she kept her face neutral. Taking two more steps, she moved closer, waiting as his car finally pulled up.

The driver was also the same right hand man she had seen him with when he'd bought her, She had learnt his name and she knew him from his silence and nimble movements, she watched as Frankie stepped out and opened the door for Dallion. As a mere companion to the crime boss, Sherryl wasn’t offered the same courtesy. Not that she expected it. She climbed into the backseat on her own, sitting across from Dallion, who, once again, kept his intense gaze locked on her.

Sherryl tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the interior of the luxury vehicle as it started to move. But after a solid minute of feeling his eyes boring into her, she gave up. Looking directly at him, she waited for him to speak.

"You have beautiful green eyes," he finally said, his tone unexpectedly calm. "How did you acquire those?"

She blinked, surprised. "My mother said I got them from my father," she replied, watching him tip his head slightly.

"Said?" Dallion's red eyes darkened with curiosity. "Did he die?"

His bluntness made Sherryl wince internally, but she had to admit it didn’t bother her as much as it once might have. Dallion had a way of stabbing people with his words, but she had come to expect it. It was just... him.

"No," she answered softly, "he didn’t die."

"What happened, then?" Dallion's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did he run away?"

Sherryl hesitated, knowing Dallion wouldn’t let the matter drop until he got the full story. She sighed softly. "I don’t know. He went to work one morning and never came back. My mother said he just... disappeared."