CHAPTER 275: CHAPTER 275: FATHER OF THE GROOM

Elias had made the mistake of thinking that a quiet mansion with only Ashwin to annoy him for a few hours meant peace.

He was wrong.

He stared across the cold sun-drenched sitting room, porcelain teacup held halfway to his lips like a shield, his expression somewhere between resignation and disbelief.

"Tell me again..." Elias said slowly, voice edged with suspicion, "Why are you here?"

Ego Numen, head of the Numen Conglomerate, demigod in a suit, and Victor’s infinitely smug father, lounged like the estate belonged to him, which, technically, it did. A dark grey three-piece suit framed his lean form, silver cufflinks glinting with the Numen crest. He was far too comfortable, legs crossed, one hand draped over the armrest as if he were halfway through a wine tasting and not currently invading his son’s fiancé’s privacy.

"Because," Ego replied without missing a beat, "you are the only one who makes me feel like I’m truly leisureing while talking."

Elias blinked.

"...Leisureing is not a word."

"It should be," Ego said, entirely unbothered. "Write to the Academy."

Elias sipped his tea instead of throwing it at him. Barely.

"You do know that showing up unannounced to your future son-in-law’s residence is, what’s the word? ...deranged."

Ego smiled. It was a gentler version of Victor’s weaponized smirk, which somehow made it worse. "Unannounced? Please. You’re always here this time of day. You’re predictable. It’s charming."

"Victor told you I’d be home, didn’t he?"

"No," Ego said, examining his cuff, "Victor told me to leave you alone. Which only made me more curious."

Elias groaned quietly and leaned further into the couch, like physical distance might help.

"I’m tired, swollen, and halfway through my fifth cup of lemon tea. What part of that says "entertain Ego" to you?"

Ego tilted his head, his perfectly styled hair catching the light. "Oh, I don’t need to be entertained. I merely wanted to observe."

"Observe what?"

"You," he said plainly. "You’re fascinating. Victor chose you, which means you’re either the best liar in the country or the only person more dangerous than he is."

"I’m neither," Elias muttered, setting his teacup down with a soft clink. "And this is harassment."

"This is bonding," Ego corrected, uninvitedly helping himself to a candied ginger slice from the tray. "I didn’t bond with Victor enough. Too busy building empires and all that."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "You didn’t bond with any of your children."

"Ah, yes. Well, if I knew Ruo was hiding someone so interesting like you until now... I would take you first in the mansion."

Elias made a face that could be described as pure disdain.

"Not in that way, Elias, but rather... train you better."

Elias stared at him.

Long.

Hard.

As if sheer force of will might make the older man evaporate from the chaise lounge he had not been invited to.

"I don’t need training," Elias said flatly. "I have degrees, clearance levels, and trauma. I’m well-rounded."

Ego looked delighted. "Yes, exactly. You’re a polished disaster. The perfect Numen."

Elias pinched the bridge of his nose. "That wasn’t a compliment."

"I know," Ego said. "That’s why I said it with admiration."

He popped the piece of candied ginger into his mouth with the kind of idle grace only the absurdly rich or terrifyingly powerful could pull off. Probably both.

Elias exhaled, slowly and with the kind of patience one usually reserves for malfunctioning servers and tax audits.

"So," he said, tone dangerously calm, "this little social visit. Is there a reason for it, or are you just making the rounds like a cursed birthday fairy?"

Ego leaned back, arms relaxed, expression entirely too pleased. "Do I need a reason to visit my future in-law and the host of my first grandchild?"

"You need a warrant," Elias snapped.

"Oh please," Ego waved a hand. "You’re lucky it was me and not the board’s ceremonial delegation. They wanted to gift you a platinum crib and a mid-tier island at the engagement party."

Elias looked horrified. "You’re joking."

"I told them you hate attention."

"I loathe attention."

"Yes, yes," Ego said, eyes glittering. "That’s why you’re marrying the most high-profile person in three countries and managing a resurrected megacorp with your name on the skyline."

"I was trying to fix my father’s mess," Elias bit out. "Not sign up for public sainthood... Victor is to blame for that too."

"Well, congratulations," Ego said, gesturing lazily to the air. "You’re halfway there. The public adores you. The press thinks you’re the calm to Victor’s apocalypse. Very opposites attract. Very mythic."

Elias reached for a ginger slice, mostly to avoid hurling the tray.

"I can’t decide if you’re flirting with me or threatening me," he muttered.

Ego smiled, folding his hands in his lap. "Why not both?"

Elias gave him a withering glare. "You’re exhausting."

"And yet," Ego said, leaning in slightly, "you haven’t asked me to leave."

"That’s because I know you won’t," Elias snapped. "You’re like glitter. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of it, you find it in your socks six months later."

There was a pause.

Then, with pure delight, Ego laughed. Full, unguarded, and so suddenly human it made Elias blink.

"Oh," Ego said, eyes narrowing in wicked amusement. "I do like you."

Elias narrowed his own eyes. "That’s unfortunate."

Ego stood, smooth and unhurried, brushing an imaginary crease from his jacket.

"Well, I’ve taken enough of your time. Victor would sulk if he knew I was monopolizing you."

"He would burn the house down if he thought you stressed me out."

"Which is why I’m leaving," Ego said, already halfway to the door. "And also why I’ll be back."

Elias groaned. "Do I at least get a warning next time?"

Ego opened the door and winked. "No, but I’ll bring pastries."

The door shut behind him with the kind of grace that came only from absurd confidence and state-of-the-art silent hinges.

Elias stared at the empty space for a moment, then looked at the tea tray like it might offer divine guidance.

"Victor," he muttered aloud, reaching for his phone, "your father is haunting me again."

He paused, then added under his breath:

"...and he might be worse than you."