Chapter 17 Love, Conditional
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“Azalea doing that well in her academic classes? What a joke, Cassius scoffed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world.
The contempt in his voice stung Bastian like a slap. The report compiled by his assistant contained much more–things even he hadn’t expected, and that amazed him.
But he hadn’t shared it with the rest of the Larks. Honestly, what would be the point? Even if they saw it, they probably wouldn’t think much of it. They might even twist it around and blame Azalea for never speaking up.
They caused a lot of the pain she suffered in the first place.
Like Matthias, he openly admitted he was the one who told Azalea to hide her grades. And Cassius, with all the cold, hard evidence laid out before him, a man who could strategize a thousand miles ahead in the business world, had the gall to dismiss it all like it was beneath him.
Did they really not know?
JOr did they just not care?
Bastian took a deep breath, steadying himself. There was no point in arguing anymore; what mattered was finding Azalea. Cassius dropped into his chair, legs sprawled out and tousled his usually perfect hair in frustration. A few strands fell over his forehead as he lit a cigarette and held it between his fingers. “So what, you came here just to yell at me?
“You think you’ve got the right to?” He lifted his eyes, and the sneer on his face made Bastian’s blood boil.
“If I remember correctly, back when you were still competing, you brought Sydney and Azalea to your team’s house. That was back when esports hadn’t taken off yet, and all your team members, grown men, were cramped into a single space. You focused all your attention on Sydney and left Azalea alone, which almost led to her getting assaulted. And what did you do after? Because the guy was one of your starters, and there was a big match coming up, you wrote a damn letter of forgiveness on behalf of the family and buried the whole thing.
“You seriously don’t remember?”
Bastian turned his face away, guilt flashing across his features. I dealt with him afterward”
“Yeah?” Cassius laughed coldly. “Your version of dealt with was letting him retire and live it up as a highly paid substitute! He’s still profiting from the industry.”
Bastian’s shoulders slumped. He had no defense; he didn’t want hassle, so he just brushed it off then.
But if it had been Sydney.
Thai guy would’ve been handed over to the cops before he even got a chance to blink.
What’s worse, that incident came up again. Later, Azalea was punished for not being modest enough. If she hadn’t behaved inappropriately, why didn’t something happen to Sydney instead?
Watching his
ourselvester, Cassius sighed and muttered, “Look, of all of us, you probably treated Azalea the best. But let’s not kid
ourselves–you don’t actually think the rest of the family is clueless, do you?”
Bastian froze. He didn’t understand what that meant.
“Take her grades, for example. Sure, I didn’t look into it. But do you really believe Mom and Dad never verified it with the school? They did. They just assumed that if she could be tempted with a little attention, she must be someone with no bottom line.
“Remember when Mom brought me, Sydney, and Azalea to the mountain? Sydney had a heart attack, and we left Azalea stranded in the mountains. It rained, and she walked all the way back by herself. Afterward, Mom and I both suspected that Sydney faked it.
“But Azalea, she was just stupid, wasn’t she? So many safer ways to come back. She could’ve just stayed the night at the villa up there. But no, she chose the hardest path to make us feel guilty, trying to steal Sydney’s place in our hearts.”
“You mean,” Bastian’s voice trembled, “you all treated her so harshly afterward because you thought she was manipulative?”
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She’d been what, 15 at the time? A child raised in an orphanage who finally found her family, only to be leji behind in the middle of nowhere. Of course, she’d try to come home! Of course, she wanted to feel loved!
He gave a bitter laugh. “Mom once told me a story about you when you were little. She left you at a friend’s house too long because she got caught up playing cards. You were what, 12 or 13) Cried your eyes out for your mom.”
Cassius immediately frowned, not understanding why Bastian brought up an embarrassing childhood story.
You were 12 or 13 back then, weren’t
your”
“Now think about what you just said. If you, a preteen boy in a familiar place, cried like that for your mom, then how can you expect a 15–year–old girl, lost for ten years and dropped into a completely unfamiliar environment, to stay calm and not cry or make a fuss? You cried because you missed your mom. So why is it wrong for her to want to come home?”
Bastian felt a dull ache in his chest. He’d heard the temple story before and brushed it off like it was no big deal.
But now! It was painfully absurd.
One girl was pampered and protected. The other was punished and criticized for everything like she needed to be taught a lesson‘ just to survive.
Bastian tilted his head back, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears welling in his eyes. “You say Azalea has no morals, that she’d do anything for a bit of attention, but you know it was Matthias who asked her to do it. You scoffed at her and looked down on her, but did it ever occur to you that after being lost at five and spending ten years without her family, just maybe she wanted to feel loved? She used the only thing she had, her grades, her obedience, and her silence to win back a sliver of kindness. She endured punishment, kneeling in the cold all night, just for the chance to be noticed.
“And Sydney faking an illness makes you all feel guilty–but Azalea, the one actually abandoned, the one you lost, doesn’t deserve any of that?”
The room fell into silence.
Cassius stared ahead, eyes wide. A flicker of doubt passed through them, maybe, just maybe, he’d done something wrong. But then again, maybe not.
Bastian didn’t speak anymore. His heart felt cold.
At first, he really believed Azalea had been misunderstood. But now Cassius had made it clear: they had always known the truth. They just chose not to care.
You can’t wake someone who’s pretending to sleep.
Back then, no matter how broken or desperate Azalea was, everyone chose to turn a blind eye. As long as she did it, it had to be wrong, end of story.
And Cassius wasn’t lying; Azalea had ended up like this, and Bastian had a hand in it, too,
They were supposed to be siblings, real family. How did things end up like this?
“I’ve already contacted the police. They’re helping with the search now.”
“Bastian, who are you looking for?” A sweet voice cut through the tense silence. Sydney poked her head through the doorway, eyes wide with curiosity.
When she saw the bruise on Cassius” face, she gasped. “Oh my god, what happened to your face?”
Bastian fell silent
He suddenly didn’t know how to face Sydney anymore.
Cassius quickly put on a smile and waved her in. “It’s nothing. I tripped. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?”
At that, Sydney looked a little embarrassed, bowing her head. “I think I might’ve embarrassed the family.”
“What happened?” Cassius asked immediately, his concern overflowing.
Bastian’s gaze turned unreadable. Sydney could waltz in and out of Cassius‘ office without knocking, without warning, But Azalea? She had to notify the assistant first if she was allowed in.
Chapter 17 Love, Conditional
Even then, stepping foot inside Cassius‘ office! That was out of the question.
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All because Cassius trusted Sydney, the adopted daughter, with sensitive company information, yet couldn’t bring himself to believe that his own flesh–and–blood sister wouldn’t betray him.
“My art isn’t up to the training camp standard,” Sydney murmured, fidgeting with her fingers. The teacher said if I don’t turn in a satisfactory assignment next time, I should consider dropping out.”
If it were Azalea, Bastian thought, she probably wouldn’t even dare to mention it. She’d just stay up every night, grinding through practice. But Sydney? She could come running straight to Cassius and ask for help.
Wasn’t Azalea their real sister?
Cassius was already trying to comfort Sydney. “This isn’t a big deal. Just ask Azalea to draw something for you.
Then he turned to his phone, dialing the assistant. “Has Azalea sent any messages or called recently? Has she said she wants to come home?”
“Mr. Lark,” the assistant replied carefully, “we haven’t received a single message or call from Ms. Azalea
