Victor stepped into the living room and found Robert already sitting in an armchair. Robert sat comfortably with his legs crossed, dismissively brushing invisible dust off the armrest. Guards stood by the door with their arms crossed, looking at Victor with smirks on their faces.
Robert was a short, heavy-set man with a short neck that almost disappeared into the tight collar of his white shirt. Massive rings with large stones sparkled on his chubby fingers.
Victor sat down across from him.
"You are punctual, Mr. Robert," Victor said first, putting his fingertips together. "That is a useful quality for someone seeking profit."
Robert gave a twisted smile and reached for his briefcase.
"I'm not here for profit, Lord Hellsworth. I'm here for debts. The deadline passed three days ago. This morning, my bank officially notified the office about the transfer of property rights. You understand what that means, don't you?"
"It means you have poor manners," Victor replied calmly. "In my house, it is customary to stand when the owner enters. But I suppose bank books leave no time for studying etiquette."
Robert froze. He had expected to find a pathetic drunkard begging for mercy. Instead, he met icy confidence. Victor looked at him so surely that the banker felt uncomfortable.
"Owner?"
Robert looked at his guards and laughed.
"Victor, let's stop the games. Legally, you are nobody. This estate, these lands, and even the chair you are sitting in belong to the bank. I only came for the keys."
"You will get the keys only when I sign the transfer act," Victor leaned forward. "And I will not sign it. At least, not today."
"And what will stop me from throwing you out by force?" Robert nodded toward his guards. "I have the legal papers."
"Your own greed, Robert," Victor's voice was frighteningly steady. "You came to take rocks and dust because you think Hellsworth is bankrupt. But what if I told you the value of this estate grew ten times yesterday? If you kick me out now, you won't just lose interest—you'll lose a fortune that would provide for your grandchildren forever."
Robert narrowed his eyes. The spark of a predator appeared in them.
"Another fairy tale?" the banker muttered, but he moved his hand away from his briefcase. "What are you planning?"
"I am busy today. Your papers can wait a few days. For now... Ludwik! Show the guest out."
Victor stood up, ending the meeting. Robert got up, breathing heavily. He wanted to argue, but Victor's cold stare made him stay silent.
"See you soon, Lord Hellsworth. But if this is a bluff, you won't just walk out of here, you'll crawl."
When the door closed, Victor waited a few minutes, watching the carriage leave. His back was aching. It was time for the second part of the plan.
He changed into simple clothes and left through the back door. He took a rusty pickaxe and a shovel from the shed. The tools were old, but they were enough.
He walked twenty minutes to the eastern mines. This place used to be full of life, but now it looked dead. Victor entered the main shaft. It was cold and smelled bad inside. His body wasn't used to hard labor, and after ten minutes, his arms felt heavy.
"Weakling," he hissed, talking to his own body.
He chose a spot that could be easily seen from the entrance. He knew Robert's spies wouldn't go deep inside for fear of a collapse, but they would definitely peek in. He hit the rock again and again. Blisters formed on his hands and broke, staining the pickaxe with blood. Finally, he cleared a section of the wall to reveal a vein of "fool's gold." In the dim light, the stones sparkled like real gold.
He finished the work and intentionally left one shiny stone on the ground near the entrance.
Later, Victor sat in his office with a single candle. His hands were covered in coal dust and dried blood.
The door flew open. Kyle walked in, looking furious.
"What is this circus, Father?"
Kyle stood in the middle of the room.
"The whole house is whispering. You've spent three days in the eastern mines. The servants say you're digging the earth with your bare hands like a madman."
Victor looked up. In the shadows, his eyes looked unnaturally bright.
"Let them whisper," he said shortly.
"You've lost your mind!"
Kyle hit the table.
"Those mines have been empty for fifteen years. There's nothing there but dampness and rats. We are on the edge of ruin, Robert is coming for us, and you are digging in the dirt. You are shaming our name!"
Victor didn't flinch. He began to write on a piece of paper.
"Go to the forge, Kyle. Check the steel. What I do in the mines is not your business. Not yet."
Kyle laughed bitterly.
"Not my business? Tomorrow Robert comes for the keys, and we'll just watch as we are kicked out of our own home."
Victor finished writing and sealed the envelope.
"Stop whining, Kyle. Go find Ludwik. Tell him to come here right now."
Kyle stared at his father for a moment, looking for signs of a drunken rant. But he only saw terrifying focus. He turned and slammed the door.
Victor let his shoulders drop for a moment. His body was screaming in pain. He knew that in the world of big money, rumors are worth more than gold if used correctly. His "madness" was a performance. To a shark like Robert, a debtor's obsession with an old mine could only mean one thing: he found something valuable.
The plan was simple: if a mine was found to be productive, it was harder for a bank to seize it because of "state interests." But if the mine collapsed and became worthless, its value would drop to zero. Victor wanted Robert to get greedy. He wanted Robert to try to collapse the mine himself to devalue the land, buy it for pennies, and keep the "hidden treasure" for himself. Robert would destroy the evidence that there was never any gold.
There was a knock on the door. Ludwik entered, trembling.
"Come closer,"
He placed the letter on the edge of the table.
"Listen carefully, Ludwik. This letter is our salvation. In it, I am writing to the capital saying I found a gold vein in the old mines. Real gold."
Ludwik's jaw dropped.
"Gold? But Lord Kyle said..."
"Kyle knows nothing," Victor interrupted. "But there is a problem. If Robert finds out before the King's officials arrive, he will take everything. So, you must make sure this letter falls into Robert's hands. But he must think he intercepted it. He must believe he stole my greatest secret. Do you understand?"
Ludwik swallowed hard and took the envelope.
"I... I will do it, Lord Victor."
"Go," Victor waved his hand. "And remember: if he doesn't believe the letter is real, we are both finished."
As Ludwik hurried out, Victor finally leaned back in his chair.
***
The next morning, the silence of the estate was shattered by a heavy roar. The ground beneath Victor's feet shook slightly, and the old windows of his office rattled. The sound came from the eastern slope—the exact spot where, just yesterday, he had been striking the rock with his pickaxe.
Victor stood by the window. In the distance, a thick cloud of dust rose over the mine entrance.
"He took the bait," he said quietly, a smirk appearing on his lips.
The plan worked perfectly. Robert hadn't waited. He had sent men in the middle of the night or at dawn to collapse the tunnels. Now, to any surveyor or appraiser, the mine was just a pile of useless rock—a dangerous place not worth a single penny. This meant the banker would come today, confident he had outsmarted the devil himself.
Victor stepped away from the window and picked up a half-empty bottle of strong wine. He didn't intend to actually get drunk; he needed a clear head. However, the image of a "broken lord" required props. He splashed some wine on his shirt, messed up his hair, and took a few gulps so the room would smell strongly of alcohol. Then, he knocked over a couple of chairs to make the office look like it had been trashed in a fit of rage.
When the door burst open, Victor was already in his chair, clutching the bottle to his chest and staring blankly into space.
Kyle charged into the room, his face was in fear and anger.
"The mine! Father, did you hear?!"
Kyle shouted, breathless.
"The eastern slope collapsed! Everything you were digging... it's all buried! The entrance is completely blocked!"
Kyle stopped, finally noticing his father's condition. He saw the overturned furniture, the wine stains, and Victor, who looked like he hadn't slept all night.
"Again?" his voice dropped to a whisper full of disgust. "Back to your old ways? A disaster just happened, our last chance at salvation is buried under tons of rock, and you... you're just sitting here drinking?!"
Victor slowly looked up at him. He forced an expression of drunken despair mixed with anger onto his face.
"Get out, boy..." he muttered, feigning a hiccup and drinking from the bottle. "It's over. Do you hear? The gold... my gold... it's under the rocks now. Robert... he'll take everything."
"Of course he'll take everything!"
Kyle kicked an overturned chair in rage.
"Because the owner is a pathetic alcoholic who can't even stand up straight! I thought you had changed. I was a fool to believe you found your pride. You were just waiting for an excuse to dive back into the bottle!"
At that moment, Ludwik appeared in the doorway. The manager looked terrified. It was the perfect moment for the second part of the performance.
Victor suddenly jumped up, stumbled, and slammed the bottle onto the table with a crash. Wine splashed onto his hands.
"You!" He pointed a trembling finger at Ludwik. "You... you didn't protect it! You didn't watch the mine!"
"Master Victor, I... I swear, there were guards! It was an accident, a collapse!" Ludwik cried, backing away. He saw not just a drunkard, but a man who had completely lost his mind from grief.
Victor took a wide, uneven step forward. Kyle stood nearby, watching the scene with pure loathing.
Coming right up to the manager, Victor grabbed him by the collar. For a second, their faces were inches apart. Ludwik closed his eyes, expecting a scream, but instead heard a tiny whisper meant only for him:
"Grit your teeth."
Ludwik didn't even have time to blink. A split second later, Victor's fist slammed into his jaw.
The manager was thrown back, falling onto the carpet and clutching his face. Tears of pain and total confusion filled his eyes. To him, this felt like the ultimate betrayal of hope.
"Get out!" Victor roared. "Everyone out! I want to drink alone!"
Ludwik stood up, shaking and sobbing quietly. Without looking back, he ran out of the office, covering his bleeding mouth with his hand. Now, when he met Robert's men, he wouldn't have to act. His fear, his resentment, and the mark on his face would be the best proof that Lord Hellsworth had turned into an uncontrollable animal.
Kyle looked at his father with more hatred than Victor had ever seen.
"You've hit rock bottom, Father," his son said coldly. "I hope you have enough wine to drown out the sound of our home falling apart. You didn't just drink away our future. You became a monster."
His son turned and walked out, slamming the heavy oak door.
Victor waited exactly ten seconds. When the footsteps in the hallway faded, he slowly straightened his back. He walked to the desk, took a clean napkin, and calmly wiped his knuckles where Ludwik's teeth had cut his skin.
"Forgive me, old man," he said softly to the empty room. "But your honest despair is the only thing that will make Robert walk through that door without fear."
Victor sat in his chair and looked at the clock. Now, all he had to do was wait.