Chapter Twelve: Your Excellency

"Haha."

As the atmosphere in the conference room reached an unbearable level of tension, Ethan was the first to break the silence. He laughed and said, "Am I being too serious? Did I scare everyone?"

Euginides and the other leaders hurriedly shook their heads, smiling, though their expressions remained stiff and unnatural.

"Actually, there’s nothing urgent today. I just called everyone here to get to know one another."

As Ethan spoke, he suddenly clapped his hands.

"Oh, that’s right. I also have someone I’d like to introduce. Vaelin, would you mind bringing in our dear Mr. Palen? Everyone is eager to meet him."

In truth, the moment they heard that "Oh, that's right," Euginides and the others felt a jolt of dread. It seemed that every time young Master Ethan uttered that phrase, he was about to announce something that would make their hearts sink.

Dear Mr. Palen...

Palen?

The name sounded vaguely familiar.

While Euginides and his associates were still trying to place the name, Vaelin entered. His clothes were stained with blood and thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder; he stood tall, his usually hunched back straightened, leading a despondent and hollow-eyed Palen into the room.

Looking at Palen, the leaders still didn't quite recognize him, but they knew Vaelin well. Although Vaelin had stepped into the background long ago, everyone present had been with Alberto for over a decade and knew that Vaelin was the hidden blade Alberto had kept at his side.

Seeing the blood on Vaelin and smelling the gunpowder, Euginides and the others were essentially convinced that Fred was dead.

This was intentional on Vaelin's part. He lacked Ethan’s obsession with cleanliness; after the bloody battle last night, he hadn't bothered to wipe away the traces. He had come straight to the conference room, the gore serving as both evidence and a badge of his own merit.

"This dear Mr. Palen has another identity: he is Joanne’s younger brother and the new leader of the Cabrea family," Ethan said, rising to press Palen into an empty chair.

The puzzle was solved.

Palen.

Palen Cabrea.

No wonder the name sounded so familiar; no wonder he looked so much like someone—he looked like Joanne.

Joanne’s brother?

Ethan hadn't killed Palen.

Last night, after Ethan had publicly executed Fred, the rest of Fred's men had surrendered. Many of them had originally defected from the Poletta family, and Ethan had chosen to forgive them.

Palen had been dragged out by Fred’s men shortly thereafter and presented to Ethan.

Just as everyone expected Ethan to finish off the last heir of the Cabrea family with a single shot, Ethan had crouched down and gripped Palen’s face in his hands.

Palen was covered in tears and snot, having lost control of his bladder, unable to even utter a plea for mercy.

"Palen, do you want me to spare you?"

Palen nodded frantically.

"But I killed your brother. Don't you want to kill me?"

Palen shook his head frantically.

Nearby, Anya had already offered a pistol.

Ethan did not take it. He stared directly into Palen’s eyes and said, "Palen, Palen, I won't kill you. I want you to live and pledge your loyalty to me. The Cabrea family is, of course, gone. You can hate me, and one day in the future, you can kill me to avenge your brother and restore the glory of the Cabrea family. How does that sound?"

Palen nodded at first, then shook his head violently, and finally, he managed to choke out a single sentence: "My lord, I am willing to offer you my soul."

With that, he prostrated himself on the floor, lifted Ethan’s left hand, and kissed the signet ring on his ring finger with profound devotion.

Therefore, no blood or gunpowder was needed; a single, living, breathing man was enough.

Palen sitting there said it all.

Fred was surely dead, and the Cabrea family was certainly finished; otherwise, he could not be sitting there.

Ethan did not mind Vaelin’s methods, however.

If a man is to walk through black mud, then no matter how pristine his coat may be, there will inevitably be blood on the soles of his shoes.

Vaelin was the blood on his soles.

And that sentiment was drawn from the Poletta family motto.

The leaders present had long since lowered their heads, no longer daring to meet Ethan’s gaze.

Ethan returned to the head of the table and tapped it lightly. "Anya, bring the contracts to Palen. As a welcome gift for our new friend, I want everyone to witness this together."

Anya walked out silently, placed a stack of contracts in front of Palen, and gave a copy to each of the leaders present.

Palen didn't even look at them; he picked up his pen and began to sign rapidly.

He signed so fast that the leaders had barely read a page or two before he had finished the entire stack.

Yet, the content of those few pages was enough to strike terror into their hearts.

Ethan had swallowed the entire Cabrea family’s assets.

Contracts were the cornerstone of the Kingdom.

After Joanne’s death, Palen was the sole heir to all of the Cabrea family’s legal assets, and his signature held absolute, sacred legal authority.

Even if the leaders of the Cabrea family refused to acknowledge it, they could not argue against the law and the contracts. If Ethan sent men to seize the assets, they would have no way to resist.

This was why Joanne had been willing to sacrifice the truce just to secure the Poletta family’s asset contracts.

But now, everything had flipped.

After reading the contracts, the leaders lowered their heads even further, as if they wanted to hide beneath the table.

"Euginides."

Ethan suddenly called out his name.

"Yes," Euginides answered, immediately looking up.

"Don't be so stiff. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't mistaken you for someone else. You know, I’ve just returned; I don't know anyone yet, and I need everyone's support."

Ethan watched Euginides as he spoke, his expression suggesting he was either reminiscing or appraising him.

"If I recall correctly, you were my father’s financial officer, correct? The one in charge of the gambling industry. Euginides, I will be counting on you in the future."

"Yes." This time, Euginides stood up. As if driven by some invisible force or compelled by an irresistible momentum, he walked step by step toward Ethan, lifted his left hand, and kissed the signet ring deeply, whispering with immense solemnity, "Lord Poletta."

He then stepped aside.

Ethan called the name of another leader. Just like Euginides, he rose, approached Ethan, kissed his signet ring, and addressed him as Lord Poletta.

Though this was merely an introductory meeting, at that moment, it felt like the inspection of a king, the coronation of a sovereign.

And in that small conference room, a kingdom was quietly taking root, one that might one day rise to tower over the world.