Chapter 391: Young Aiden And Aaron

"The first time we met, you and your brother were around eight years old," the old man began, scoffing as he looked at Justin with a glint of self-mockery in his eyes. "I had two grandsons... and yet I didn’t even know of your existence for years. Your father really played me for a fool. Always refusing to marry the women I chose—while secretly raising a family of his own."

Aeldric’s expression turned cold.

"He thought he could keep it hidden forever, huh? He truly underestimated me, his own father. And then he had the audacity to find a woman just as stubborn as he was. She refused to give me my grandsons. That weak, pathetic woman—she was nothing but trouble. If it hadn’t been for Alexander, I would’ve killed her the day I found out."

Justin scoffed, unfazed. "Good to know a ’weak and pathetic’ woman could still rile up a man like you."

Aeldric smirked. "The only reason I tolerated her was because she gave birth to my grandsons. Otherwise..."

"If you’re expecting me to thank you for ’sparing’ her," Justin cut him off, his voice razor-sharp, "then maybe you should go expect it from —not me. She’s a stranger to me. I owe her nothing, and even less to you."

The old man chuckled, pride gleaming in his eyes. "This is exactly why you’re just like me, Aiden. Cold. Calculated. Emotionless. We, men like us—we don’t have weaknesses. And that’s how we the world. That first day we met, you proved it to me. And even now, you haven’t changed. No regard for emotions. Capable of cruelty far beyond imagination."

Justin leaned back in his chair, a light smirk on his lips, "I am sure, my way for cruelty is beyond your imagination now. You’d better pray I never get the urge to try it on you."

Aeldric laughed again—deep, pleased. "You only give me more reason to take pride in our bloodline, Aiden" he said. "You’ve inherited it perfectly. I remember that day like it was yesterday—an eight-year-old boy who might have never harmed a soul before, he sliced the throat of a person who angered him. No trace of hesitation and even remorse. There was simply an instinct to kill.

"The same boy who never saw a real gun, he picked it up as if it was his usual toy and pointed it at me- I, who everyone feared and even till date dreams about killing me. But there, you stood ready to shoot me, not a tinge of fear in your eyes."

Aeldric’s smile widened, dark and proud.

"In that moment, I . You were the one. My true blood. My heir."

Noah, who had just heard that his boss once slit someone’s throat at the age of eight, couldn’t help but think, A shiver ran down Noah’s spine as he recalled those moments—Justin with his blades, and the screams... of people who were no longer alive to speak about it. People who’d had the misfortune of experiencing those "fine skills" firsthand.

"I can still do the same," Justin said, his tone casual, yet laced with deadly promise. "You’d be proud of me... from the afterlife."

The old man chuckled as if Justin had cracked a clever joke. "Well, I’ll wait for that day," Aeldric replied. "But I’m quite certain it’s not today. For now, let’s continue the story. After all this time, I finally get to reminisce about the day I was happiest—and you were the reason."

Justin remained still, saying nothing. His eyes, however, signaled that the old man could go on.

"It was the day your father was to bring his hidden family into the Riverdale Estate after I discovered their existence," Aeldric said, a victorious smirk curling on his lips. "To see my proud son—Alexander—helpless in front of me for the first time... it was satisfying."

He scoffed.

"Fool. He was a fool to have a That woman. He could’ve had children with her—or any woman—but he chose to her. To become addicted to her."

He leaned back slightly, the disgust evident in his tone.

"From a young age, I taught Alexander—I He paused, voice hardening.

"And she... was his downfall."

As the old man talked, his thoughts drifted to the old memories.

----

That day, in the past, Alexander Riverdale—only son of Aeldric Riverdale—brought his long-hidden family to the Riverdale estate.

"Alex... why don’t you let me run away with our kids?" a delicate but elegant woman said softly as she stepped out of the car. Her beauty carried the quiet strength of maturity. She walked beside a tall, striking man whose sharp features mirrored hers. "I’ll make sure your father never finds us."

Two identical boys walked a short distance behind them, their small feet following the stone pathway leading toward the grand mansion ahead. Two guards followed quietly at a distance.

"Now that he’s found you three... it’s impossible to hide anymore," Alexander replied, his voice calm and composed, but tinged with regret. "I should have been more careful. I should’ve never visited you in person. My negligence is what led him to you."

She gently took his hand, caressing it. "Don’t say that. I know how painful it’s been for you—to stay away from your own kids and see your own family like a criminal sneaking around. Maybe this was destined. Maybe now was the time to be found. I just... I just hope our children won’t be caught in any of this. I can talk to your father. I’ll ask him to let us go. We don’t want anything from the Riverdale family. He might show some mercy for the sake of his own grandsons."

His expressions turned serious as he spoke, "Our kids are the reason you are here. I am afraid...." he stopped and assured her, "I will find a way. We won’t let Aiden and Aaron stay here."

She hummed softly, her grip on his hand tightening. Her gaze locked onto the looming estate ahead—its architecture regal and cold, towering with pride. But in her heart, it looked more like a lion’s den.

Once they stepped inside... they might never walk out again.

-----

Meanwhile, a short distance behind them, the two boys whispered between themselves. One of them—calmer, more serious—walked with thoughtful silence, though worry shimmered in his young eyes.

He was Aaron.

The other boy had no emotion or worry in his gaze as he silently walked ahead, observing everything around him. There was an unusual calmness in his demeanor, especially for someone so young—more like fearlessness than innocence.

He was Aiden.

"Aiden," Aaron said softly, walking a step behind him, "remember to stay quiet, no matter what happens when we meet those people. Stay calm—as if you can’t hear or see anything. Don’t do anything."

"What can I possibly do there?" Aiden replied, his tone firm. "I’m just a kid—same as you."

Aaron sighed. "Let our parents handle whatever comes. Just... don’t get angry, no matter what."

Aiden didn’t answer. He kept walking as if he hadn’t heard his brother at all.

"Aiden, did you hear me?" Aaron called again, more urgently this time. "Last night, we heard Mom talking on the phone... she said these people are dangerous. She was scared just about them. Please, don’t make things harder for her."

Aiden finally turned to look at him. His eyes were calm, but there was a flicker of stubbornness hidden deep within them."I worry about Mom more than you do," he said quietly. "You keep being Daddy’s son. Leave Mom’s worries to ."

"I’m older than you," Aaron replied seriously. "You to listen to me. And I’m worried about too. I can’t let you get into any trouble."

Aiden looked like he was about to argue—but then, seeing the genuine concern in his brother’s eyes, he let it go. His shoulders dropped slightly.

"Don’t worry," he said at last.

Aaron exhaled in relief and gently took Aiden’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. He smiled warmly."I’ll protect you—even if you mess up."

Aiden looked at him, silent. His brother had just scolded him and then promised to defend him anyway. That was Aaron—always the protector, always the big brother—even though the age gap was only a few minutes.

"Those three minutes..." Aiden muttered under his breath with a small sigh, and walked quietly alongside his brother. ’I can protect you as well.’