3 CALM DOWN MR. ROME

Chapter 3

Alof led Mhok back to the second floor of the villa. As they walked down the corridor, Mhok finally had the chance to observe his surroundings more carefully. In addition to the large wooden door he had exited earlier that morning, there were two smaller doors set not far apart. The atmosphere here was noticeably quieter, heavier—this was clearly the working area of the Arseni family.

They stopped at the first door. Alof knocked lightly and waited until a voice inside gave permission. He pushed the door open and stepped aside, signaling Mhok to enter alone.

Mhok walked in and stopped at the center of the room.

Behind a wide desk sat Kian Arseni.

Mhok’s expression remained calm as his gaze quietly assessed his new master. Kian was tall, his posture straight and steady, with a physique built through long-term training. His movements were precise and economical. His dark hair was combed back neatly, revealing sharp features and smoky gray eyes that moved calmly over the documents in his hands.

On the desk lay a thick file. Mhok was almost certain it contained his personal information.

For a long moment, only the faint sound of pages turning filled the room.

“What are you doing here?” Kian finally asked, his voice cold and steady.

“I’m here to be Master Kian’s confidant,” Mhok replied evenly, without hesitation or emotion.

Kian did not react immediately. He continued reading. “Your résumé is impressive. Academics, training, skill assessments—you scored high in every category. That’s admirable.”

Mhok stood quietly. Those achievements meant nothing special to him. They were merely tasks required for survival.

“But,” Kian said as he lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

There it was—the core of the problem.

Mhok already knew the rumors. The eldest son of the Arseni family, betrayed in the past, guarded by suspicion and possessiveness, trusting no one outside his family.

Mhok’s lips curved faintly. There was no pressure, no fear—only calm confidence.

“I believe Master Kian has misunderstood something,” he said calmly. “My duty isn’t to earn your trust. Trust is valuable, but it isn’t required for my work.”

Kian frowned, interest flickering briefly in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“My duty is to support you, assist you, protect you, and strengthen you,” Mhok replied. In that moment, the image of a thin, quiet Asian boy vanished, replaced by someone steady and assured. “Whether you trust me or not, my duty remains unchanged. I won’t betray you.”

Kian leaned back slightly, studying him. “Someone with no background like you is unlikely to betray me.”

“Aren’t the people who want to harm you precisely those with backgrounds?” Mhok tilted his head slightly, his tone casual. “My past isn’t something Master Kian needs to concern himself with.”

Kian folded his hands over his knees. “Then what should I concern myself with?”

“How to make the best use of me,” Mhok answered with a small, confident smile. “That is my responsibility as your confidant.”

The two stared at each other in silence. The challenge in Mhok’s eyes made Kian chuckle softly. The tense atmosphere eased without either of them realizing it.

“You’re confident,” Kian said. “But words aren’t enough. I need proof.”

He picked up another document. “What do you think about Zhao He’s company?”

Mhok glanced at the file. “The Japanese mafia family?” His brows lifted slightly. “That’s an interesting gamble.”

“Everyone says it’s their final struggle before collapse,” Kian said casually.

Mhok shook his head. “Sho Hyuk’s influence in Japan runs far deeper than a single mafia family. Even if the world changes, they won’t fall easily.”

Kian’s finger tapped two precise points in the document. “They’re transitioning into legitimate business. That’s the correct path forward. If it succeeds, capital will flood in. Instead of waiting for Zhao He to fail, expanding into the Asian market now would be smarter.”

Kian looked up. His smoky gray eyes gleamed with genuine interest, and a satisfied smile appeared. It had been a long time since someone could keep pace with his thinking—especially someone so young.

“I accept you as my confidant,” he said finally. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Mhok blinked once, then bowed slightly, smiling politely. Cooperation with this master, at least, would not be difficult.

—

Rome frowned deeply as he leaned back on the sofa, staring at the scene before him in disbelief.

Two weeks had passed since the skinny Asian boy moved into their home—a “stranger,” in Rome’s eyes. He had no intention of accepting him, no matter how much his mother insisted. At first, even Kian had seemed uninterested, and Rome was sure Mhok would be ignored and fade into the background.

But what he saw now completely shattered that expectation.

“Mhok, where’s the previous document?” Kian asked, handing over a stack of papers.

“It’s in the third folder,” Mhok replied smoothly. “The next one you need is in the fourth. I reorganized them.”

Rome sat stiffly on the opposite sofa, staring at the pile of documents between them. His frustration grew. How could this guy understand his brother’s work in just two weeks—when even he, Kian’s own brother, didn’t?

“P’Kian, why is he still here?” Rome complained loudly.

Kian lifted his eyes, irritation flashing briefly. “Don’t call him names. It’s rude.”

Rome froze, eyes wide. Kian had never corrected him like that—especially not in front of an outsider.

“Are you nicer to others than to me?” Rome whined, nearly throwing himself at his brother. “I’m your younger brother!”

“I’m not treating others better,” Kian replied flatly. “It’s just that my subordinates are more useful than you right now.”

Rome collapsed dramatically onto the sofa, devastated.

Kian sighed, then turned to Mhok. “Bring me an espresso.”

Mhok nodded quickly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, Rome rushed to the desk. “P’Kian, can he really be trusted?”

“I don’t trust him,” Kian replied calmly. “And he doesn’t ask me to.”

Rome frowned. “Then why—”

“Dad approved him,” Kian said. “He was chosen from hundreds. If Mom and Dad agreed, that’s enough.”

Rome turned away, irritation burning in his chest. Someone had entered his territory—praised by their parents, valued by his brother.

“I could be your confidant,” Rome muttered stubbornly.

“You?” Kian raised a brow.

“Why not? I’m stronger, better at fighting, more familiar with internal affairs, and better-looking.”

“Mhok’s exam scores are higher than yours.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“The position isn’t just about strength,” Kian said patiently. “And his combat evaluations are excellent.”

Rome snorted, unconvinced.

“Calm down,” Kian continued. “Mhok isn’t here to replace you. Stop comparing.”

Rome stormed out, lips pressed tight, anger simmering.

That calm face… that effortless competence…

He would find Mhok’s weakness.

No one was perfect.

And Rome was determined to prove it.

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