The first memory I have is of getting slapped by my mother—for spilling a drop of soup on the dining table. I think I was hardly four or five years old.
I didn't see my parents frequently, nor did I leave the house much. All I remember is studying dozens of books, taking various lessons, defence training, and getting hit every time I slipped up—even for a second.
When I was ten, my parents took me out for the first time. It was a press conference.
That was the first time they smiled at me.
"And I would like to officially introduce my son—Alan Rockfell—to the world. The future heir of Rockfell Enterprises."
I didn't even know what that meant at the time, but I was just… happy. Happy that my mom and dad were smiling at me.
But later that night—
My cheek stung with hot pain.
"Why were you looking at me like a fool? You were supposed to smile at the cameras!"
"I-I'm sorry, Mother…"
"Useless fool."
She left, slamming the door shut.
"Alan… come. I'll apply some ointment for you."
"…okay"
Nina. She was the only servant in the house who was kind to me. The only person who gave me the closest thing to 'love.'
Others didn't even bother to acknowledge my existence.
I also had a cat… Yuuki. She was the only birthday gift I'd ever received—when I turned five. After that year, nobody remembered my birthday anymore. Except Nina. She always secretly brought me a small muffin at midnight… and a handmade gift she crafted just for me.
Years flew by…and I turned fifteen.
The butler came to inform me that my father had summoned me.
He never called me unless it was important. And today… was April 7th. My birthday.
I thought maybe… maybe he had remembered it this time. Maybe he had called to wish me. How naïve I was.
"Alan. I heard from your tutor that you haven't been doing well in your politics lessons."
"Sorry, Father. I'll be sure to improve."
"You better be. Anyway… where's your cat?"
"Yuuki? She's in my room."
"Good. Do you love it?"
"Yes, Father. Very much. I couldn't have asked for a better gift than her."
"Go and bring it."
I thought he wanted to check if I'd been taking proper care of her. And I really had. I imagined how happy he'd be to see how soft and healthy she looked. Maybe… maybe even praise me.
"Here, Father! Look how soft and white her fur is!"
He took her from my hands. Touched her gently. She was purring loudly.
"Alan. Do you like the color red?"
"No? Not specifically…"
"Well, get used to it. Because you'll be seeing it quite often."
Before I could ask what he meant, I was already seeing it.
Yuuki's snow-white fur turned crimson. Her pearl-blue eyes lost their shine.
And then I saw it.
The silver knife in my father's hand.
He killed her. Right in front of me. Why… what did she even do…?
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. I just stood there, watching the blood drip onto the floor from the now-lifeless form in my father's arms—before he dropped her cruelly, like trash.
He pulled out a white handkerchief and stained it red with his own hands.
"Take a good look, son. You feel something in your heart? That's called the pain of losing someone precious. And this—this makes you weak. So don't build emotional bonds. They'll only make you suffer in the future."
He paused, his voice colder now.
"You're the heir to the Rockfell Enterprises on the surface… But you'll be handling something far more dangerous and important than that. So you need to be strong. Coldhearted."
He patted my shoulder.
Then leaned close, and whispered in my ear—
"This was just a warning. The next time, you'll see your servant's head instead of a dead cat."
And then he left.
Only then did I allow myself to fall to my knees, cradle her in my arms… And let the tears spill freely.
"I'm sorry… If only I wasn't your owner… If only you hadn't ended up in this house…"
At the age of fifteen, I finally understood the true nature of my parents.
I held my emotions back. Because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Of seeing me weak.
The next thing I remember… is being held in someone's arms. Warm. Familiar. Nina.
We went to the yard together. Buried Yuuki under the old magnolia tree.
"This is just too much… how could sir do something so cruel…?"
I didn't speak a word that night.
And the next day… I started ignoring Nina.
I didn't respond to a single word she said.
"Alan? Did I do something wrong?"
She kept asking, her voice as gentle and soothing as always—the voice I loved so much.
But all I gave her was a cold stare.
All to keep her safe.
After a week, I filed a complaint with the head maid. Told her Nina was annoying. That I wanted someone else.
That's when Nina was fired.
I slipped a letter and all the cash I'd saved into her bag.
But the last memory I have of her… is painful.
Nina, staring at me with the eyes of someone hurt by betrayal.
But I told myself—this was the only way. The only way to protect her.
I used to feel sad that my parents didn't have time for me. That they never noticed me.
But now… I was glad they were too busy.
Busy enough to not realize that Nina had been fired.
Two weeks had passed since she left.
I had been on my best behavior, keeping a low profile, pretending to be the perfect son. All just to stay invisible. To not attract attention.
Because I had already started planning.
Piece by piece. Quietly. Carefully.
I was going to escape.
Like hell I was going to stay with those monsters forever. May 8th, 2018
I escaped from home. My parents were out on a business trip for two weeks. Couldn't have asked for a better opportunity.
I lied to the butler, said I wasn't feeling well. So he summoned a physician.
I bribed the doctor—told him to make up any excuse to get me admitted to the hospital. He did.
When we reached the hospital, my caretakers and the butler were asked to wait outside while I was "undergoing tests."
The rest was simple. I tricked the nurse with my innocent face, took advantage of her kindness as she guided me to the bathroom.
I felt sorry she might get in trouble later… But no matter what consequences she faced, her life would still be a hundred times better than mine.
I climbed out through the window. Ran. Hailed the first taxi I could find.
I didn't look back. Didn't think twice about leaving the city.
I had enough cash to afford a decent apartment, but I knew my card would be blocked the moment my father realized I was gone.
I headed to Montana. Far from Brooklyn. Quiet. Small. Perfect.
As soon as I arrived, I went to the nearest ATM. But my luck ran out faster than I thought.
Blocked. Just like that.
Luckily, I still had some cash in hand. Enough to get by.
The best part?
Nobody knew what I looked like. My face had only appeared on a screen once—when I was a kid. We never had any family portraits, let alone solo ones of me.
I was invisible.
Exactly how I wanted it.
Five days passed. I'd rented a small hotel room—the kind of place that didn't ask for too many details, as long as you paid in cash.
Strangely, there wasn't a single piece of news about me. I thought they'd be looking for me frantically—I was the "only heir," after all. But I guess I wasn't as important to them as I thought I was.
Good for me.
I needed to start looking for a job. And a fake identity. Fast.
It was a rainy night. I'd never been allowed to enjoy the rain before—"You'll fall sick," "Don't ruin your clothes," "Stay inside"—all of it. But now, I was standing right in the middle of the street, letting it soak me through.
Heavy drops, even heavier than the weight I'd carried all my life.
Only now did I realize—I was truly free.
I had escaped that hellhole.
Just as I turned to head back to the hotel, I heard a scream.
"Thats my purse!"
Something brushed past me—mud splashed on my pants as a guy in a black hoodie sprinted by, clutching a purse.
In front of me, a woman had collapsed to her knees. Beside her stood a girl—maybe around my age—holding an umbrella over both of them.
I understood the situation instantly.
I took off after him. Fast. Fast enough to make him panic.
Lucky for me, he ran into a dead end.
"Mister, please return the bag. That's not yours."
"Shut up, kid. Should've minded your own damn business."
He lunged at me.
Too slow.
I twisted behind him, fast, grabbed his wrist, and jerked his arm just right—he dropped the purse.
Now all I had to do was knock him out, But then—
"Hey!"
The girl. She'd followed me.
The guy noticed her. And then his eyes changed.
He turned toward her, pulling a box cutter from his pocket.
Like hell I was letting that happen.
"Listen, girl! RUN!"
She flinched, frozen. Didn't move.
I darted forward, grabbed him from behind just before he could get to her.
"Watch out!"
He swung blindly. I would've dodged it—easily— But my foot slipped on the wet pavement.
A sharp gasp escaped me as pain flared in my left arm. He'd nicked me. Deep.
Still, I didn't back off.
The idiot was worse than an amateur, left himself wide open after that swing. I didn't waste the chance.
One clean punch, right to the jaw.
He dropped like a sack of bricks.
"Y-Your arm! There's so much blood!" The girl ran over to me, eyes wide. Her mother caught up seconds later.
"It's fine. Really. I'm okay…" I winced but forced a small smile. "I'm sorry about the bag… I dropped it while fighting…" I said, while picking up the bag.
The lady looked at me—relieved, worried, surprised.
"…Are you crazy?" she said. "You didn't have to do that—"
"I wanted to," I interrupted softly. And that was the first real human connection I'd had in years.