Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL]-Chapter 126: His Order

Antonio was still in Alexander’s study after dinner, and no one dared to approach him. He waited and waited.

Alfred, the loyal guard who was currently accompanying Antonio, kept asking him to leave. But Antonio was still reading some books on the table, ignoring the old guard.

Then Albert entered the room and bowed respectfully. "Master Alexander doesn’t seem to be coming. He is not willing to see me."

Antonio sighed, already expecting that. He grabbed his cane and walked out.

"He doesn’t want to see me? That insolent grandson," he muttered.

He walked out and climbed the stairs to Alexander’s room. Everyone who saw him looked tense, especially the servants.

What kind of war would happen next?

Alfred chose to wait in the living room, while Albert guarded Antonio, afraid that Alexander might try to shoot him.

The heavy doors to Alexander’s master suite didn’t just open, they were shoved aside by the force of Antonio’s cane and the weight of his irritation. No one dared to stop the old man.

The room was dim, smelling faintly of wine and alcohol. Alexander was propped up against the headboard of his bed, a book held steadily in his hands. He didn’t look up when the doors crashed against the stoppers. He didn’t even flinch.

It seemed he knew who had come and was brave enough to enter his room without permission.

Antonio marched into the room, his face flushed a deep, angry red. "How dare you ignore me?! How many days, Alexander! You drive me crazy!"

Alexander turned a page, the crisp sound of paper echoing in the cavernous room. He sighed lazily, then looked up from his book.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. "How dare you come into my room without permission?"

Antonio’s grip tightened on his cane until his knuckles turned white. He stood in the center of the room. He had anticipated Alexander’s anger but had not anticipated the man’s response at this moment.

"Oh, so you want to punish me now? Is this your little game? Get up! What are you doing?! You are ignoring your responsibility!"

Alexander finally lowered the book, but his eyes were like two pieces of flat, gray flint. They held no recognition, only freezing boredom. "Once again... who are you? And why are you shouting in my room?"

Antonio let out a sharp, ragged sigh, the frustration bubbling over. "How long will you do this, huh?! Don’t be weak and childish! You are my grandson! You are a Salazar! You are not supposed to fall just because of a man!"

Alexander didn’t answer. He simply lifted the book back to eye level and continued to read.

Antonio clenched his hand around his cane. The dismissal was more painful than a physical strike.

"Huan will not come back!" Antonio roared, the name hitting the room like a grenade. "Accept that!"

For a split second, Alexander’s eyes flickered, a flash of pure, murderous lightning, but he suppressed it instantly. He didn’t give Antonio the satisfaction of seeing him bleed. He continued to ignore the old man, his silence becoming a physical wall.

"You can’t just ignore me like a child!" Antonio stepped closer, his shadow falling over the bed. "If you want to stay here, under this roof, using this name, at least make yourself useful! The Group is in chaos. Malvin is drowning. Roger is a fool. I need you to stand, to function again."

Alexander closed the book slowly, marking his page with a ribbon. He looked at his grandfather with a terrifyingly calm expression.

"Is that so? You want me to leave? I will leave, then," Alexander said softly.

The room went deathly silent. Antonio’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. He realized, with a cold jolt of fear, that Alexander wasn’t bluffing.

Alexander was so hollowed out by grief that he truly didn’t care if he lived in a palace or a gutter, as long as he was away from the man who had burned his heart.

If Alexander left, the Salazar legacy died with him. Antonio had spent years building a mountain, and he was watching it crumble into the sea.

Antonio stared at him for a long minute, searching for a crack in the armor, but found only ice. He couldn’t push further. Not tonight.

"You are a fool, Alexander," Antonio muttered, though the thunder had left his voice. He turned, his steps heavy and sounding older than they had an hour ago.

He swore under his breath and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Alexander didn’t go back to his book. He sat in the dark, staring at the closed door, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the gold coin keychain on his nightstand.

He didn’t feel like a strong Alexander now. And he was serious about making the old man regret touching the person he loved.

Meanwhile, in the back room, Lucas and Nael waited behind the wall. Antonio had left, but he had asked two guards to stay there, very serious about teaching Nathan a lesson.

Malvin and Roger failed to negotiate with the two guards to free Nathan. Leo was busy with his own plans. And now Lucas and Nael were trying to come up with a plan.

Lucas was trembling slightly because he himself was afraid of the dark. If he were in that room, he might panic to death, so he asked Nael not to cause any trouble with Antonio.

"What should we do?" asked Nael anxiously.

"The problem is, there are no windows there. We can’t take Nathan away quietly. The only way out is that door. And they’re really annoying. You know what they said to Roger and Malvin."

Nael sighed. "We have to tell Alex."

"I’m not sure. Alex really doesn’t want to get involved in anything right now." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"But at the very least, we have to try."

Nael and Lucas walked quickly to Alexander’s room. But just as they were about to knock, Alexander opened the door. They were surprised to see Alexander standing in the doorway.

"Ah, Alex... We need your help!" said Lucas.

Alexander didn’t ask any questions. He looked at the two of them, then at his watch. "It’s past midnight. Go to sleep," Alexander said.

Nael panicked. "Alex... Nathan..."

Alexander patted Nael on the shoulder. "Go to your room. I’ll take care of it."

Nael and Lucas looked at each other.

Alexander had been told by Roger about Nathan, and that was enough to make him angry and decide to leave the room. He didn’t want Nathan to experience trauma like Lucas had.

He cursed the old man repeatedly.

Alexander stood in front of the locked door.

The two guards stationed outside the windowless back room straightened immediately, their hands flying to their belts. They were Antonio’s men, loyal to him, but as Alexander approached, their bravado evaporated.

Alexander stopped three feet from them, his presence cold enough to frost the air.

"Open the door," Alexander said. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

The guards exchanged a frantic glance. "Master Alexander... we have strict orders. Sir Antonio said no one is to enter or leave without his permission."

Alexander took a step closer, his height looming over them. "Look where you stand. This is my house, and you are standing on my floor. It’s not your place!"

The guards hesitated, caught in the deadliest crossfire of their jobs. "But Sir Antonio said,"

Click.

The sound of Alexander drawing his firearm and thumbing the safety was deafening in the narrow corridor. He leveled the barrel directly at the bridge of the lead guard’s nose.

"I won’t say it twice. Open the door, or I’ll paint this wall with your blood."

The guard’s hands shook as he fumbled for the heavy iron key. He turned the lock with a frantic thud and stepped aside, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Get out," Alexander hissed, his eyes never leaving them. "If I see you near my brothers again, I won’t bother talking."

Alexander shoved the door open. He expected to hear sobbing, or perhaps the frantic scratching of a boy terrified of the dark, much like Lucas had been years ago. His heart hammered against his ribs, a rare spark of genuine panic flaring in his chest.

"Nathan?" he called out, his voice uncharacteristically strained.

The room was pitch black and smelled of dust. As Alexander’s eyes adjusted to the dim light from the hallway, he scanned the floor. He found a small shape huddled in the far corner. He rushed over, his mind racing through every worst-case scenario.

Instead of a crying boy, he found Nathan curled up, his head resting on his arm, breathing deeply. He was asleep.

Alexander froze, a strange mixture of relief and disbelief washing over him. He reached down, his hand hovering, before gently shaking Nathan’s shoulder. "Nathan... wake up."

Nathan stirred, squinting against the sudden light. He looked up, his face pale and eyes bleary. "Alex...?"

"Are you okay?" Alexander’s hands were frantic, checking Nathan’s arms and face for bruises.

Nathan sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "I think so."

Alexander didn’t wait for further explanation. Before Nathan could protest, Alexander hooked his arms under the boy and lifted him. Despite his own exhaustion, he carried Nathan through the halls with a fierce, protective grip.

When they burst into the kitchen, the late-night staff nearly dropped the trays they were cleaning. The sight of Alexander, rumpled, angry, and carrying his younger brother, was enough to stop their hearts.

"Prepare food for him," Alexander said to the stunned servants.