As soon as one stepped through the villa's door, they were greeted by a grand and almost theatrical entrance hall. The ceiling rose at least ten meters high; the walls were adorned with symbols of the ancient wolf bloodline and portraits framed in silver. The floor was laid with dark wooden parquet, and the only sound that broke the silence was the echo of Jack's and the young girl's footsteps.
Directly across the entrance, two staircases curved upward from the left and right, meeting at a single point above. Between these twin staircases stood a majestic statue—carved from black stone—of a howling wolf. Its head was lifted to the sky, mouth open in mid-howl.
Even from below, the dark wooden doors of the upper rooms were clearly visible. The stair railings and balcony balustrades were carved in a distinct Gothic style.
With the young girl still clinging to his arm, Jack turned toward the staircase on the right. Just then, the sound of delicate heels echoed from above.
A woman was descending the stairs with soft yet resolute steps.
She wore a pitch-black, form-fitting elegant outfit. Her hair, a deep chestnut, was tied into a tight bun. Her eyes were as dark as the night. Her facial features were sharp and flawless. Every step she took was calculated, moving with a composed, regal grace.
Jack's eyes turned to the woman. His gaze lingered for a brief moment, but his expression remained unchanged. The young girl, however, immediately responded to the woman's presence with respect—she released Jack's arm and stepped back.
The three of them met on the first steps of the staircase, right beside the grand howling wolf statue.
The woman took one more step toward Jack. Her voice was cold, yet measured:
"So… you've finally come back, Jack."
Jack inclined his head slightly. His smile was faint, but carried a quiet defiance.
"It was time, Elara."
Elara stood still for a few seconds. Her eyes locked onto her brother's. Then, without saying a word, she stepped forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Jack hesitated at first, but then returned the hug. A brief silence settled between them.
Elara spoke in a soft voice:
"Welcome home… Jack."
Jack tilted his head slightly. His eyes seemed to glisten for a moment, but he held himself together.
"It's good to be back. It's been a long time."
Elara stepped back slightly without letting go, a warm but tired smile on her face.
"Come on, let's go sit in the lounge. You can tell me everything. I've missed you."
Jack glanced toward the lounge entrance, then looked back at Elara.
"Can we talk later? I need to see Julian first."
Elara's smile faded just a little. But she didn't let any offense show. She nodded.
"I should have known. Come, he's upstairs."
Then she turned to the young girl beside Jack.
"Elizabeth… sweetheart, go upstairs and change into your pajamas. You've got school tomorrow."
Elizabeth immediately protested, her voice tinged with both hurt and determination:
"But Mom… I've missed Uncle so much. He just got here. Can't we sit together for a little while? I want to talk to him."
Elara took a deep breath. She looked directly at her daughter, then spoke in a gentle but firm tone:
"I know, honey. He's missed you too. But it's late, and you have to get up early. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time with him after school tomorrow."
Though reluctant, Elizabeth lowered her head and muttered with a pout:
"Okay…"
She turned toward the stairs, but after a few steps, she looked back at Jack. Jack smiled at her and gave her a wink. The girl smiled faintly in return and went upstairs.
Elara watched her daughter disappear up the stairs, then turned back to Jack.
"Follow me."
Elara and Jack began ascending the staircase on the right. With each step, a soft creak echoed beneath the wooden steps.
At the top, a row of rooms lined the right side of the upper floor. The left side, however, was completely open—offering a clear view of the grand lounge below. A single elegant railing was all that stood between the open space and a long drop to the floor beneath.
Elara stopped in front of the first door on the right. Her expression grew serious. She raised her hand and knocked twice.
From behind the closed door came a familiar male voice:
"Come in."
Elara turned the handle and opened the door, then gave Jack a small nod. The two stepped inside together.
Inside, a man in a suit was seated behind a large desk made of walnut wood. He was busy with a scattered pile of papers in front of him. He carefully examined each page, occasionally reading lines aloud, signing the ones he approved, and setting them aside.
When he noticed them entering, he looked up. His eyes shifted from Elara to Jack. The tired expression on his face softened. He gently set the pen down on the desk, stood up, and walked toward them with quiet steps.
The suited man looked at Jack; the lines between his brows eased slightly, and a faint trace of the past flickered in his eyes—alongside a glimmer of surprise.
"Well, look who it is…" he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Jack. It's been a long time. What winds have blown you back here?"
Jack hesitated for a moment. He glanced sideways at Elara, then spoke directly:
"I need to talk to him alone."
Elara gave a slight nod in response. "Then I'll leave you two alone," she said, and quietly stepped out of the room.
Once the door closed, Jack turned around and took a step toward the suited man. Gesturing to the desk, he asked:
"Shall we sit?"
The man gave a slight nod and motioned toward the chair beside the desk. When Jack pulled it out and sat down, the atmosphere in the room noticeably shifted.
Jack settled into the chair, not taking his eyes off Julian. There was no warmth or longing in his voice—only clarity and a cold determination.
"I haven't come with good news, Julian."
Julian leaned back slightly. After a brief flicker of seriousness, his expression shifted to one of condescending curiosity. He placed his right hand on the desk and began tapping with his fingertips in a firm, rhythmic beat.
"That much is obvious… from your posture too. You show up after three years—no hello, no explanation. You just walk in and say we need to talk alone. Must be something important… Go on then, let's hear it."
A moment of silence followed. The only sound was Julian's deliberate tapping.
Jack clasped his hands and placed them on the table. His face was expressionless, but the storm within him was clear in his eyes.
"What happened that night… isn't over, Julian. They're back."
Julian's fingers stopped mid-tap. He leaned slightly forward in his chair, bringing his hands together under his chin. His gaze locked onto Jack's, unflinching. The ease in his posture vanished, replaced by razor-sharp focus.
"Go on…" he said, voice low, tense with restrained urgency.