Chapter 157: The chatter
DO NOT OPEN THE Chapter IT SAME AS LAST ONE PLEASE.
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The morning had wound itself into a quiet calm. The clatter of dishes had faded, leaving only the faint fragrance of roasted spices and simmered broth lingering in the air.
The table was bare now, wiped clean, though a warmth remained in the polished wood where plates had sat.
Azazel had stayed behind after the meal, his movements steady and purposeful as he carried plates into the kitchen alongside Theresa, careful not to let her lift more than she should.
When Benjamin rose to clear his own place, Azazel had been quick to step in, his voice quiet but firm—"Allow me, sir."
And now, with everything tidied, he stood before the entrance door.
The soft morning breeze drifted in through the open space, carrying with it the scent of dew and freshly turned earth, cool against his skin.
The rest of the family had gathered near the doorway with him—Theresa and Benjamin side by side, Ava a step behind her parents, and Cassandra hovering close to her mother’s skirts.
No one remained seated; it was not their way to let a guest leave without standing to see him off.
Azazel lowered his head deeply, the motion deliberate, his dark hair falling forward as his shoulders squared with respect.
"I will be leaving now, Ma’am, sir," he said, his voice carrying the kind of weight that came from sincerity.
When he raised his head again, he found both Theresa and Benjamin watching him.
Their faces, though different in expression—one warm, one reserved—held the same quiet acknowledgement.
They nodded, a silent granting of permission that felt heavier than words.
But Azazel did not step away yet. A flicker passed through his eyes, and he straightened, his posture sharpening with intent.
"Before I forget to introduce myself properly this time," he said, his voice steady, "my full name is Azazel Thompson."
The words landed in the space like a pebble in still water.
Theresa’s lips parted first, a small gasp escaping before she caught it.
Her eyes widened in recognition, a flicker of surprise breaking through her composed exterior.
In the same heartbeat, she mastered it, her expression smoothing back into calm grace, though the slight tremor in her breath betrayed her.
Beside her, Benjamin’s brows drew together, a shadow flickering across his stern features.
He glanced at his wife, catching her fleeting reaction, and for the first time that morning something unspoken passed between them.
Theresa was the first to move. She inclined her head slowly, deliberately, her voice low but steady. "Mr. Thompson."
Azazel accepted the acknowledgment with the faintest of bows before his lips curved into a quiet smile.
"The food is delicious, Ma’am. I really enjoy it." His words were gentle, but the sincerity in them could not be mistaken.
His gaze drifted then, settling on the smallest figure in the room.
Cassandra stood close to her mother, her little hands folded neatly in front of her as if she hadn’t quite decided whether the morning was truly finished.
Azazel’s eyes softened. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and in a quick, conspiratorial gesture, he winked at her.
Her whole face lit up, her mouth forming a round "O" before breaking into a grin that spread from ear to ear.
"Care to accompany me out, dear?" Azazel asked, his tone light but his invitation genuine.
Cassy was quick to nod, so quick she nearly toppled her balance in her eagerness.
She jumped to her feet, her small shoes tapping against the floor as she scurried forward.
But Azazel’s eyes had already shifted, drawn unerringly to the woman who stood quietly, her composure never loud, yet always present—Ava.
Her lips curved at the corners, the smallest of movements, but it was enough.
It wasn’t her usual polite smile, distant and careful. This one was softer, warmer, carrying something unspoken between them.
For Azazel, it was sweeter than anything he had tasted that morning.
Ava took a step forward, the faint shuffle of her shoes on the polished floor marking her decision.
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she moved closer. Her voice came, quiet but certain.
"Mom, I will accompa—"
Before she could finish, a smaller voice piped up, high and eager.
"Mom, I will also go," Cassy declared quickly, her words tumbling out as though they might vanish if she didn’t say them fast enough.
Her tone was pleading, though everyone had heard clearly that Azazel himself had asked her.
Theresa’s brows lifted ever so slightly, though amusement danced in her eyes.
She laid a gentle hand on Cassandra’s shoulder before she spoke, her voice warm but teasing.
"Ok," she said, her tone measured. "But don’t interrupt our lovers, ok."
The words landed like a spark tossed into still water.
Ava’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing faintly, her lips parting in surprise.
Across from her, Azazel froze for a heartbeat, the corner of his mouth twitching before the tension broke.
Both of them let out a soft, startled chuckle, the sound awkward yet disarmingly genuine.
Cassy blinked at the reaction, her young mind not fully understanding but sensing she had somehow stepped into a moment far bigger than herself.
Benjamin, who had been silent through the exchange, grunted low in his chest, but the stern edge of his gaze had softened just slightly.
His large hand rested against the doorframe, fingers drumming absently, betraying thoughts he did not voice.
Theresa, however, watched with quiet satisfaction.
Her eyes lingered on Azazel and Ava, a knowing light glimmering in them.
She said nothing more, but her smile spoke volumes.
"Ok, I won’t interrupt the lovely Sis Ava and Bro Azazel," Cassandra beamed, her face glowing with delight as she skipped to Azazel’s side.
Without hesitation, her small fingers curled tightly around his hand, her whole being brimming with happiness.
"Let’s go," she declared with a proud nod, as though she were leading them.
Azazel’s lips curved softly. He took a step back, his movements composed, and bowed his head politely one last time to Theresa and Benjamin before turning toward the door.
Ava walked at his side, her steps quiet but steady, while Cassy clung to his other hand like a little shadow that refused to let go.
"Brother Azazel," Cassy called, her voice as bright as morning sunlight, her face lifted toward him with a smile that stretched ear to ear.
"Yes, dear," Azazel replied, his tone gentler than the breeze spilling through the open doorway.
He leaned slightly, his arm swooping down gracefully before lifting her up into his arms with ease.
Cassy giggled, wriggling slightly in delight as she perched comfortably against him.
Looking down at her sister from the higher vantage, her eyes sparkled with playful mischief. "Sis, I’m taller than you!"
Ava’s lips parted into a smile, her gaze softening as she looked at her little sister.
"Yeah, I can see," she said warmly, amused at how quickly Cassy had become attached to Azazel, treating him already like family.
Azazel shifted Cassy slightly in his hold, his eyes flicking toward Ava, more intent now.
"Cassy, do you have something to tell me?" His voice carried a weight hidden under its calmness—this was the real reason he had asked her to accompany him out.
Cassy, however, was quicker to seize the moment.
She bobbed her head eagerly, her curls bouncing as she prepared to speak, as though afraid someone might silence her again.
Earlier at the table, she had been stopped by her mother’s sharp, warning glance. Now, she had her chance.
"Will you come back to play with me?" she asked in a rush, her small voice trembling slightly with hope.
Azazel’s smile deepened, and without hesitation, he nodded. "Sure. Who wouldn’t come back to play with such a cutie, huh?"
Cassy’s eyes shone like polished marbles, her laughter spilling out in a bubbling giggle that filled the morning air.
She pressed her small palm against his shoulder as though testing if this was truly real.
"Really?" she pressed again, needing confirmation, her brows lifting in doubt yet her lips curving in joy.
"Yes," Azazel answered, his grin widening, touched by the innocence in her persistence.
"And you’ll be home on the weekend, right?"
Cassy nodded quickly, her big round eyes glowing with anticipation.
"Then I’ll be here by then too," Azazel promised firmly. "And we’ll go out and have fun. Do you agree?"
Cassy bobbed her head up and down so fast her hair danced around her face. "Yes, yes!"
"Thank you, brother," she whispered finally, overwhelmed with happiness.
Her little arms wound tightly around his neck in a sudden embrace, her warmth pressing against him with all the sincerity her small body could give.
Azazel held her carefully, his hand gently supporting her back, a rare tenderness softening his features.
Behind them, Benjamin’s deep voice broke the moment with a low hum, his eyes following the small child’s joyful frame against Azazel’s strong hold. "Hmmm."
Theresa, who had been standing close by with her hands folded lightly over her apron, leaned subtly toward her husband.
Her eyes never left Azazel, her gaze flickering with both excitement and the weight of unspoken worry.
"Sweetheart... is he truly from the Thompson family?"
Her words carried a tremor, as though even voicing the possibility sent a ripple through her chest.
Benjamin’s jaw flexed. His gaze shifted from his wife to Azazel’s tall figure at the doorway.
His voice came low, deliberate, each word heavy as stone. "The Thompson... the richest family in the entire D Country."
It wasn’t so much an answer to his wife as it was a reminder to himself, a truth he needed to repeat aloud to taste the gravity of it.
The name itself seemed to weigh down the air, thick with meaning, pressing on everyone’s thoughts.
Since the moment Azazel had spoken it, Benjamin had felt the weight in his bones, as though the very syllables carried power.
And now, watching him cradle Cassy so gently, speaking with a smile yet holding a presence that could not be ignored, Benjamin could not bring himself to speak further.
The name—Thompson—was already speaking for him.