Chapter 12: Chapter 12 — Where Did This Wild Boy Come From

In Anderson’s memory, Edmund could scarcely be called a good man.

After that birthday banquet ended, Edmund, as was his habit, came into his room with a small wooden stick in hand. He vented his rage upon Anderson’s body, all the while muttering about “the progenitor’s little offspring.”

The blows burned against his skin, yet Anderson did not utter a sound. His expression was numb, his thoughts detached, as warm blood trickled down from his forehead.

Amid Edmund’s curses and vile insults, Anderson gradually realized that the “progenitor’s offspring” he spoke of must have been that little girl who had given him pastries earlier that day.

That impossibly clean, angelic child—how could she be connected to a boy as cruel and demonic as Edmund?

Of course, that was only one of Anderson’s thoughts.

The Francis family was notorious for its belligerence; anyone of Francis blood could hardly be called virtuous—and Anderson was no exception.

He pondered quietly—what if he could use that kind-hearted girl to help him escape his predicament?

A five-year-old, pampered little darling—surely she would be easy to manipulate.

With that thought, Anderson slipped away from the manor without a sound and made his way to the most renowned kindergarten within vampire territory.

And indeed, he found Chloe there.

Unaware of any of this, Chloe had a faint smile at her lips. Because of her delicate features, her smile appeared especially pure and harmless—perfectly befitting the role of an innocent five-year-old. Yet her words were chillingly cold:

“Why should I believe you based on nothing but your word?”

Releasing her grip on the iron railing, she folded her arms and looked him over. “If you’ve come only to sow discord, you may leave. I’ve no patience for your nonsense.”

As her voice fell, Chloe made to turn away.

Anderson’s eyes flashed with surprise. “Wait!”

“What else is it?” she asked, turning back to him.

It dawned on Anderson that this girl was not as naïve as he had imagined. Lifting his gaze, he let worry fill his eyes.

“I’m not trying to stir up trouble. Please, believe me.”

He looked pitiable—delicate, wounded, and pitifully endearing. His voice came out hoarse, his face touched with grievance.

Chloe turned and examined him carefully. One thought crossed her mind: this kid fakes misery quite convincingly.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

His hair and clothes were disheveled, his face and head marked by bruises and cuts—especially across his scalp, where the rod’s impact was unmistakable.

Those emerald eyes clung to her, brimming with desperate sincerity—like a boy returning to warn his benefactor of a danger, even at his own peril.

Unfortunately, he was still far too young. Every thought was written plainly in his eyes.

Too ambitious, Chloe mused, and far too easy to read.

Still, she decided it wasn’t worth her while to think too deeply about a scruffy child. Helping him on a whim would cost her nothing.

Having resolved this, Chloe smiled faintly. “Is that so? Those wounds—did Edmund give them to you?”

Anderson fell silent.

Before Chloe could continue, a sharp cry came from behind her. “Oh my goodness! Chloe, sweetheart, come back here!”

The teacher rushed forward, scooping Chloe into her arms while scolding under her breath, “Don’t play with strange boys outside the fence, do you hear me?”

Strange boys?

Chloe glanced back at Anderson. His hands hung at his sides, his face a picture of loneliness.

And she had to admit—it tugged at her heart a little.

“Alright, put me down.”

The teacher froze, then quickly remembered who she was holding—not an ordinary child, but someone of higher standing. Obediently, she set Chloe back on her feet.

Chloe returned to the fence, studied the boy for a moment, and said, “Raise your head.”

It sounded oddly like an emperor commanding a concubine—or, in this case, a little girl ordering a little boy.

A spark of amusement flickered in Chloe’s heart.

Anderson hesitated, then obeyed, lifting his head.

She hadn’t really noticed his features before, but now that she looked, he wasn’t bad-looking at all.

Once washed up, he might even be considered handsome.

Turning to the teacher, Chloe said, “Please bring me some medicine.”

The teacher frowned at Anderson, then sighed. “Very well.”

When she returned, she carried ointment and bandages.

Chloe, acting on impulse, dabbed a bit of ointment onto the boy’s head before handing the bandages to the teacher to finish the job.

When the wounds were dressed, Chloe reached into her pocket, took out a piece of chocolate, and placed it in Anderson’s hand.

“Wait for me here. Don’t wander off.”

With that, she sauntered away beside the teacher.

Anderson stayed where he was, watching her small figure until it disappeared from sight. The corners of his lips curved upward slightly.

So this counts as success… doesn’t it?

For the rest of the day, Chloe completely forgot about him.

She spent the afternoon indoors playing games with her little followers—or rather, being forced to play by them.

Those brats cried at the slightest thing—utterly insufferable.

Except for Arvis, of course; the little scoundrel wasn’t worthy to play with them.

When school was finally over, Kevin arrived, as usual, on his sleek black motorcycle to pick her up. Only then did Chloe suddenly remember the boy she’d left outside.

Just as Kevin bent to lift her, she dodged his touch and ran toward the kindergarten gate.

Strange. Where was he?

Could the Francis family have taken him back?

If so, there was nothing she could do.

She looked around, finding no trace of him.

Moments later, Kevin caught up. “My little lady, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Chloe replied casually. “Let’s go home.”

She extended her arms so he could carry her onto the motorcycle.

The engine roared to life, and they were about to speed away—when something grabbed the rear seat.

Kevin startled. “What the—?”

Chloe turned to look—and blinked in surprise. “So you weren’t taken after all?”

Not only had he not been caught—he was noticeably cleaner.

Anderson’s face and hands were scrubbed spotless, though his clothes remained tattered. Yet somehow, he looked entirely different.

Those green eyes met hers again, steady and unyielding.

Kevin looked from the boy to Chloe, an uneasy feeling creeping over him. “Miss, is… is this your friend?”

Chloe extended her hand toward Anderson, allowing him to climb up behind them. “Something like that. He’s coming with us.”

Kevin clenched his jaw.

He glanced at his pristine little lady, then at the ragged boy clinging to the back seat.

His expression twisted with barely restrained frustration.

Damn it. Where did this wild brat come from?