It had already been five days since John and his family arrived at the Xentras mansion. Unfiltered comments directed at him, gazes that seemed to shoot him in the back, sighs filled with sadness, disappointment, and distaste were the first things he heard as he walked by. Yet his posture, gaze, and attitude were flawless for such moments: he showed no restlessness or concern over what others said or did. At twelve years old, he understood more than most people would come to grasp in an entire lifetime.
⸻
Breakfast time arrived. All the adults were seated at the table, waiting for the feast that was always served to them.
"This is the first time the family has gathered knowing it will be for an extended period; honestly, I find it fascinating," Max said with a simple smile.
"That's true. Although, to be honest, I would have preferred to be somewhere else on vacation rather than here, surrounded by walls," Helena replied with a hint of annoyance. "Max, why didn't you bring your wife and children?"
"Huh? I don't plan on staying at the mansion the entire time; I have to take care of a base in China, so I didn't want them to feel uncomfortable—especially my daughter. She doesn't like the idea of seeing me for such a short time, knowing I'll be leaving soon," he answered with a smile, though his eyes reflected a certain sadness.
"That's unfortunate. It must be hard not being able to see your wife and daughter. Though who knows… there could be something better," said Helena's husband, a Russian man in charge of one of the most famous mobile business empires of today.
"What do you mean by 'though who knows'? Explain yourself," Max said. He perfectly understood that those words were nothing but provocation, yet he would not allow his family to be disrespected.
"Hehe, don't get upset, Mr. Military Man. I'm just saying that when someone takes too long to see their 'beloved,' they end up loving someone else… or so they say," he replied with a provocative smile, clearly trying to spark a fight or argument at the table.
"Take it back, you idiot!" Max shouted as he stood up, his fist slamming against the table.
"Please, the children will be here soon, so you should behave," Romeo intervened, wearing his usual calm smile. "And sir… I don't remember your name, nor do I wish to, so I apologize for that. But under those rules and 'opinions' about Mr. Max's family—wouldn't the same thing happen to you when you go to Russia?"
"Ah! That better be a tasteless joke, Romeo!" Helena exclaimed, immediately offended.
"I'm only stating facts. You can't accuse or judge things you don't know," Romeo continued, calmly adjusting the forks that had been displaced by the impact on the table. "So do yourselves a small favor: before speaking about other families, worry about your own first. It might end in ruin," he said, looking directly at Helena and her husband.
Camila, who had not intervened at all, simply poured herself some wine. As she drank, something was reflected in her eyes: satisfaction. Not because of the wine—but because of what her husband had said.
⸻
Minutes later, everything returned to normal. There were no heavy conversations, but the presence of something "bad" lingered; discomfort floated in the air.
The doors opened, revealing the younger members of the family: Erick Xentras, Helena's eldest son, sixteen years old; Jenny Xentras, the youngest daughter at fourteen; and John. They entered together, meeting at the entrance to the dining room.
"The future of the family has arrived! Hahaha!" Romeo said enthusiastically, even after the tense exchange earlier.
The youths sat near their parents after formally greeting everyone present.
Footsteps echoed through the hall, revealing the children's grandfather.
"Good morning. I hope you all rested well," he said as he sat down, while the servants brought the food closer. "It's been five days since Camila and Romeo's son arrived, and three days since Helena and Mr. Dmitri's children arrived. I had hoped Max's children would come as well, but it's unfortunate that work made it impossible."
Max nodded at his father's words.
"Well then, while we eat, tell me something about my grandchildren. I'd like to know how high they will carry the Xentras name in their hands," he said with a broad smile, eager to listen.
"It would be an honor. Our little Erick is a genius in the digital field; in one more year I'll help him create his first business as a digital merchant," Dmitri said proudly.
"Oh! That sounds excellent. I expected nothing less from the son of two people who run major industries," the old man replied, now turning his interest toward his granddaughter's hobbies.
"Oh, Father… Jenny is destined to be a model. She'll soon participate in Teen Fashion Week, where the best young girls compete to become professional models," Helena said with a satisfied smile.
"A model? We'll have a model in the family? Well… I didn't expect that! A celebrity will be the most moving thing the Xentras family has ever had," he commented proudly. "And what about little John? Being the youngest, he probably doesn't do much, but I'd like to know his hobbies."
(Hah… with that inability to feel and that 'dead child' face, he probably just stays at home all day) Helena thought mockingly, placing two fingers over her lips.
Camila crossed her legs and arms, elegantly running a hand through her hair.
"John doesn't currently have any special interests; he takes things calmly. But in all his subjects, he gets perfect scores—whether it's a 10, 100, or an A. He always gets them," she said confidently, without the need to compare him to his cousins.
"Well then, we have a prodigy. Just like his mother in that regard. Is it true you get excellent grades, John?" the grandfather asked, intrigued.
"I don't know…" John replied, looking directly at his grandfather, answering simply.
"Why don't you know?" he asked, curious.
"Because existing grading systems limit me," John answered.
"They limit you?" the old man pressed.
"Yes… whether it's a 10, 100, or an A… they limit me. I don't know if my knowledge is truly good if it's measured by grades they call 'perfect,'" John explained.
After his words, the grandfather—and everyone present—fell silent… until laughter erupted.
"Hahahahaha! He's exactly like my Camila," Max said, laughing uncontrollably. "John's expression, his cold gaze and calm voice… it was as if Camila had made a copy of herself. It reminds me of when Camila told us years ago: 'You get 100 because that's as far as you can go; I get 100 because that's what is required of me.' God, you'll be great, John."
John simply nodded at Max's words and showed a faint smile.
"Fascinating. That is exactly the attitude the Xentras family needs. I won't question your way of thinking any further; it's clear you're ambitious and arrogant, just like your mother. I want to know more about you, John," the grandfather said with interest.
John nodded once more, feeling a warm pat on his head—the proud hand of his father.