Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 282

Marco didn't care about Sebastian's scrutinizing glance at all. The Russo family never fell on hard times. He squinted at Tommy driving ahead, his voice low and cold. "Tommy, don't tell me you're still cleaning up Ruben's messes."

A new name had entered the conversation.

Sebastian had never heard this name before, so his frown didn't ease, but this clearly wasn't the time to ask questions.

He remained silent, quietly listening to Marco and Tommy's exchange.

Tommy was quiet for a long while, his voice weary. "Almost done. Only two hundred thousand euros left."

"Two hundred thousand?" Marco paused, then followed up. "I recall neither Ruben nor Ella have jobs, right?"

The implication was obvious.

Tommy gripped the steering wheel tighter, made a sound of acknowledgment, and said nothing more.

Truthfully, two hundred thousand euros wasn't much, but it wasn't little either—for Marco, it was an amount he could casually throw around and more.

However, Marco knew very well that this sum of euros wasn't easy for Tommy to come by.

Since Tommy had semi-retired eight years ago, the Russo family only paid him fifty thousand euros monthly as retirement pay.

Tommy's son and daughter were both unemployed, constantly hoping to work for the Russo family.

Marco had met those two—completely useless. Who knew what trouble they'd cause if they entered the family? Naturally, he'd refused.

Ruben and Ella had both married in recent years. Neither couple seemed interested in working, idling away their days instead.

Among them, Ruben was a gambling addict, frequenting Virella Island's various underground casinos year-round.

Sometimes, even Marco would hear about his gambling debts.

As for Ella, she was better than her brother Ruben, but not by much.

She didn't gamble or do drugs—only drank. Drunk all day long, completely incapable of working.

The burden of supporting the entire family fell on Tommy's shoulders.

Marco wasn't ignorant of all this. He'd once paid off part of Ruben's gambling debts out of respect for the man's years of service to his father, but he'd also warned Tommy not to interfere in Ruben's affairs again.

After that, subordinates would occasionally report on Ruben's gambling, but Marco never stepped in to help again.

Helping once came from pity for a former employee, but that pity didn't obligate Marco to support them for life.

If he kept helping repeatedly, everything would descend into chaos.

Tommy sighed, pulling Marco back from his thoughts. "No, but Mr. Russo, after this is done, I definitely won't get involved with them again."

Marco didn't respond.

He'd heard Tommy say this before, but the man had never kept that promise.

Expecting Tommy to completely abandon his family and become utterly alone—Marco couldn't bring himself to demand that.

So hearing Tommy's renewed promise, Marco's tone remained neutral. "Tommy, that's your decision. I can't control you."

Tommy had followed Marco's father for years—he'd long since become shrewd. How could he miss the true intent behind those words?

He gave an awkward laugh and said nothing more.

Their car didn't head toward the vineyard estate, but continued along the southwest road.

From the route, their destination appeared to be the Russo family's grand estate—the one with the stone tower.

While Sebastian and the others rushed to the grand estate, Scarlett's side was considerably more leisurely.

Perhaps considering comfort, the car that came for Scarlett was a stretch Lincoln.

The seats were more comfortable than other vehicles—like sitting in a small sofa. The experience was exceptional.

The Seymour family had once owned such a car. Scarlett had ridden in it only once, but that single ride had left a deep impression.

That car's seats hadn't been as comfortable, and Edith's affected, whining voice had filled her ears the entire time—none of it had made Scarlett comfortable.

This time, though it wasn't her own car, Olivia treated Scarlett with complete attention.

On the return journey, Scarlett's hand never lacked fresh juice, and there was even a platter of freshly cut fruit.

To keep Scarlett from getting bored, Olivia chatted with her the whole way.

"I heard you prefer Lumarian cuisine. The servants who traveled with you need to stay in Vesperia a few more days, so I took the liberty of finding you a new chef. Though they probably won't make it tonight."

As she spoke, Olivia turned and pulled the curtain back slightly to look at the sky outside.

"This weather... looks like rain tonight. I was thinking we'd have an outdoor gathering at the estate, but that won't work now." She frowned, muttering with some dissatisfaction before quickly turning back to Scarlett with a smile in her voice. "Maybe a concert instead? The boxes there serve dinner—tonight will be South American cuisine."

A concert with South American cuisine?

Scarlett was puzzled and actually asked about it.

Generally speaking, concerts were high-end affairs where people dressed formally and typically chose only upscale food.

"She loves doing all sorts of quirky things, but it's quite popular. I'm sure tonight will be interesting too." Olivia didn't explain further, just smiled warmly.

Scarlett nodded, half-understanding.

She looked at Olivia, her gaze lingering on the other woman's face.

Olivia was an obvious beauty. Compared to most foreigners, her features were softer. Her deep auburn hair curled naturally, her eyes an ordinary brown—but deep, gentle emotion overflowed from them, making it impossible to look away once you'd seen her.

Looking at her, Scarlett was reminded of that very famous film, the female character played by Monica.

Olivia was clearly that kind of exotic beauty, but her personality was more outgoing, her eyes sparkling with confident light.

They chatted about trivial matters after that.

From those conversations, Scarlett gradually pieced together some information about the Russo family.

Olivia had married into the Russo family thirty-five years ago. They had one daughter, Rosalia, now thirty years old.

The restaurant mentioned earlier was run by their daughter.

"I heard your health doesn't allow alcohol yet—such a shame. But you can see next year's vintage. They're aging in oak barrels right now. That aroma—you'll absolutely love it."

Just as Olivia finished speaking, the Lincoln slowly came to a stop.

The driver's technique was excellent, but the gradual deceleration still made the passengers aware.

"Mrs. Russo."

The winery's butler stood outside the car door.

Olivia led Scarlett out of the car. The vineyard estate in winter wasn't as lively as in summer.

In front of the rustic building lay a small vineyard. Grapevines wound around wooden frames—carefully pruned, quietly waiting for next spring.