Chapitre 141: Negotiation With Yulia
Before she could respond, Alex flicked his wrist, and Dolores was hurled forward. She hit the ground hard, sprawling in an undignified heap. Alex turned away, his posture as casual as if nothing had happened. He settled back into his chair, picked up his glass, and took a leisurely sip of his drink, ignoring her entirely.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said offhandedly, not even bothering to glance in her direction. "Remind her that the 'key' is with me."
Dolores glared at him, her face twisted in a mix of hatred and fear, before scrambling to her feet and storming out of the room. After Dolores's hasty exit, Alex leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the tension of the encounter fade. It wasn't long before the knock he'd been expecting came. This time, the visitor didn't barge in. Instead, an elegant woman stepped into the room, exuding an aura of confidence and sophistication.
Yulia Travers carried herself with the poised grace of someone who had spent her life navigating high society. Her long, light blonde hair was meticulously styled, and her flawless complexion showed no sign of stress or age. Despite her composed exterior, Alex could see the flickers of unease in her eyes.
Yulia's mind raced as she entered. Dolores's frantic report about the "key" had sent her reeling. What was Alex talking about? The real key couldn't possibly have been discovered—it was hidden too carefully, far from where the incident had occurred. Yet his confidence unsettled her. Did he really know more than she'd assumed? Could he have somehow pieced things together?
She moved gracefully to the sofa opposite Alex and sat down, her every movement deliberate. Her smile was charming but calculated, her eyes assessing the young man before her. She didn't speak immediately, letting the silence stretch, as though daring him to reveal his hand first.
Alex, unfazed, took another sip of his drink, meeting her gaze with a calm, almost lazy confidence. He knew he held all the cards. The silence lingered until Yulia, unable to suppress her curiosity and irritation, broke it. "Mr. Wilson," she began, her tone pleasant yet sharp, "I heard you wished to see me. Well, here I am. Is there something you'd like to say?"
Alex set his glass down gently, leaning forward slightly. "First," he said, his tone casual, "I didn't call for you. You came here because you wanted something from me. Second, I don't have anything to say. You, on the other hand…" He leaned back again, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're the one with the problem. I'm the only person who can solve it."
Yulia's smile faltered for the briefest moment. 'Troublesome boy.' She had hoped to steer the conversation in her favor, to probe him for information before committing to anything. But Alex wasn't playing along. He wasn't giving her an inch. "You've certainly made things… interesting," Yulia said smoothly, trying to regain control of the conversation. "But I'm curious—what exactly do you think I need from you?"
"Oh, don't play coy, Ms. Travers," Alex said, his voice dropping slightly, adding an edge to his words. "You wouldn't be here if your little schemes hadn't hit a dead end. Moody's got Torquil locked up tight, and your family's reputation is already on shaky ground. You've tried everything else, and now you're here—grasping at straws."
"Oh, so bold of you to offer to solve our troubles. 'We'? I'm not sure what troubles you think we're facing. Perhaps Mr. Wilson can enlighten me?" Yulia's sharp tone made it clear she wasn't buying into Alex's proposition. Her gaze was steady, calculating.
Alex leaned back, smirking slightly. He could see right through her act. A classic politician's face—smooth words that danced around the point without ever saying anything meaningful. He wasn't about to waste energy arguing with her over it.
"It's simple," Alex began, swirling the glass of liquor in his hand. The sound of the ice clinking against the glass was oddly rhythmic, almost hypnotic. "The Wizengamot seat. The fate of your Travers family. Surely you don't think those things aren't troublesome?"
Yulia raised an eyebrow, her expression guarded. "Oh? Why do your words sound so deep, yet I understand so little of them?"
Alex chuckled, his tone laced with mockery. "If you can't grasp something so simple, maybe you should have your head checked. But surely, you understand the meaning of 'key,' don't you?"
Yulia's calm exterior cracked for just a moment, but she quickly masked her unease. "Key? Are you talking about a Portkey, or perhaps the kind that unlocks a physical lock?" she asked, feigning nonchalance.
Alex's eyes glinted with amusement. "You're remarkably stubborn, aren't you? Fine, let me clarify." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass key, holding it up just enough for the light to catch its intricate design. "The key to the vault." His words were slow, deliberate, and carried a weight that hit like a hammer.
Yulia's carefully crafted composure shattered as her eyes locked onto the key. Her body leaned forward involuntarily, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Her fingers dug into the armrest of her chair so hard that her nails bit into the fabric. 'How is that key in his hands?' Panic surged through her mind. 'Was Torquil stupid enough to carry it with him?' Her hand instinctively moved toward her left hip, where her wand was hidden.
But she hesitated. Alex had already withdrawn the key and was now watching her with a knowing, almost mocking smile. The risk was too great. He was clearly expecting her to make a move. Even if she managed to snatch the key, she couldn't be sure he hadn't already discovered its true significance.
With a deep breath, Yulia forced herself to relax, plastering a smile back onto her face. "Ah, so that's the key? If I recall, I gave it to Torquil as a birthday gift. A key to an empty vault, if I'm not mistaken. Did you find that while rummaging through his things? Defeating him doesn't mean you can go looting his property, Mr. Wilson."
"Oh?" Alex raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "An empty vault, you say? Funny, because what I saw in Torquil's memory, protected by the Slytherin Protection Charm, tells a very different story. And who said I found this key on him? Speaking of which, the Travers family vault has quite the security, doesn't it? It took me a fair amount of effort to crack it open."
Yulia's face blanched. Her calm demeanor gave way to shock as she shot up from her seat, her breathing quick and uneven. 'He knows!' she realized in horror. 'He knows about the ward, the vault, the safe house… He even knows what's inside!'
"What do you want?" Yulia asked, abandoning any pretense of control. There was no point in playing coy anymore. If Alex hadn't handed over the key outright, it meant he had demands. And if he had demands, that meant there was room to negotiate.
Alex stood as well, towering over her. His smirk widened, predatory. "Are you forgetting already? I believe I made myself perfectly clear—one hundred thousand Galleons." He enunciated each word, his voice cold and sharp as a blade.
Chapitre 142: Impossible
"That's impossible!" Yulia snapped, glaring at him with a mix of anger and disbelief.
"One hundred thousand Galleons? Do you think my family owns Gringotts?" she scoffed. "If we had that kind of money, we wouldn't have needed to align with the Dark Lord in the first place!"
Alex wasn't surprised by her reaction. He hadn't expected her to agree to the amount outright. Negotiation always started with an outrageous demand, after all. "Then tell me," Alex said, his voice steady, "what price do you think is appropriate?"
Yulia's jaw clenched as she tried to suppress her growing frustration. "Two thousand Galleons," she spat. "That's the highest I can offer."
Alex laughed, shaking his head. "Two thousand Galleons? For a vault full of blackmail material? Are you serious? There were one thousand Galleons in gold coins in the safe alone. And you're trying to use my spoils as bargaining chips? That's a joke."
Yulia's lips thinned, but she refused to back down. "If you've already found the safe, then you must have also found the unsigned title deeds inside. Two thousand Galleons, plus the gold and deeds, should be more than enough."
Alex's smirk deepened. "Those Galleons and deeds are mine—spoils of war I claimed at great personal risk. I nearly lost my life to Torquil, and now you want to use my spoils to bargain with me? Don't insult me."
Alex had truly risked everything this time. Exhaustion gnawed at him as he stayed up all night conducting experiments, enduring grueling pressure, and even facing physical torment. On top of that, he had to keep up the act for the Aurors, pretending he was just another kid in over his head. For someone who valued a disciplined routine, staying up late was as good as torture. Yet here he was, risking not only his health but also his Galleons and possibly his life—each step closer to sudden death.
And yet, Yulia still had the nerve to argue. "Do you even understand who you're dealing with? The Travers family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the oldest and purest bloodlines in the wizarding world! If you accept our terms, you'll gain an ally. Refuse, and you'll make an enemy—not just of us, but of the entire pure-blood elite!"
Alex's eyes narrowed. 'Oh, you're trying to play games with me again? Trying to pull both threats and promises to manipulate me? Fine, let's see how far you'll go.'
"Do you know who you're dealing with right now?" Alex's voice dropped, low and icy. His expression turned menacing as he took a step toward Yulia, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.
Yulia flinched under his glare, instinctively backing up until her legs hit the edge of the sofa. She lost her balance and stumbled, collapsing awkwardly onto the cushions. Looking up at Alex, who loomed over her with cold, unrelenting intensity, she felt utterly cornered.
"Let me introduce myself properly," Alex said, his tone dangerously calm. "My name is Alex Wilson. I turned fourteen this year. I don't enjoy arguments—they're a waste of time and make unnecessary enemies. But if someone insists on becoming a problem for me, I don't hesitate to deal with them. I won't lose. I'll crush them before they even know what hit them."
He leaned in closer, his voice hardening. "You're standing before a wizard who single-handedly eliminated five Death Eaters. Do you think I'm afraid of your crumbling little family? I'm not here to bargain with you because I know your dirty secrets. I'm here because I have the strength to wipe the Travers name off the Sacred Twenty-Eight and turn it into the Sacred Twenty-Seven!"
Each word landed like a hammer. By the time Alex finished speaking, Yulia was pale, cold sweat dripping down her back. She tried to muster her courage, glaring at him through gritted teeth. "Are you trying to scare me?"
"No." Alex's lips twisted into a grim smirk. "I'm stating facts. And yes, I'm warning you. Consider it a threat if you like."
Yulia felt like prey, cornered and defenseless against a predator. She trembled under the weight of his words, the oppressive aura radiating from him making her feel smaller and smaller.
"But... we can't possibly produce one hundred thousand Galleons," she finally stammered, her voice faltering. "You're making an impossible demand."
"I know," Alex said, straightening up. He walked back to his seat and sat down, casually crossing his legs. "If you can't pay in gold, you can pay in other ways. Materials, potions... or knowledge."
Yulia's breath hitched. Her instincts screamed that whatever he was about to say would be disastrous. "What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.
"Oh, you know exactly what I mean," Alex replied with a pointed look. "The Travers family vault has plenty of treasures, doesn't it? Rare artifacts, Slytherin's manuscripts, mithril... and 'that.'"
Yulia froze. She had no idea how Alex knew about 'that,' but her mind raced. Torquil must have spilled everything! How much had this brat uncovered about their family?
"You're trying to strip us of everything," she accused, her voice trembling with both fear and fury. "You want to dig out our roots and leave us nothing!"
"Don't be so dramatic," Alex said lightly, his tone almost mocking. "As long as you're alive, there's always hope. Isn't that what you pure-bloods love to say? Compared to rotting away in Azkaban alongside Torquil, those treasures are just meaningless objects, aren't they?"
Yulia clenched her fists, torn between rage and despair. The Travers family vault was more than just wealth; it represented the legacy of generations, their very identity. And now Alex was treating it like some bargain bin.
Seeing her hesitation, Alex didn't push further. Instead, he pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "You'd better decide soon, Yulia," he said with a sly smile. "Your window of opportunity is closing fast. The reporter from the Daily Prophet I invited should be here any moment now."
As if on cue, a knock echoed through the room. "Come in," Alex called, his tone calm and composed.
An Auror stepped inside—a familiar face. "Vanessa, long time no see," Alex greeted her with surprising warmth.
"Alex," Vanessa replied with a nod, her professional demeanor slipping slightly as she smiled. "It's been a while. But let's skip the catch-up. There's a reporter named Rita Skeeter waiting outside. She claims you invited her. Do you want me to send her away?"
Alex shook his head. "No, I did invite her. But let her wait a little longer—I'm wrapping things up here."
"Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting too long," Vanessa said lightly, then glanced at Yulia, whose expression was twisted with frustration. "Probably not."
Vanessa noticed Alex wasn't alone, her eyes shifting toward the figure seated on the sofa with her back facing her. Though she couldn't see who it was, it was obvious the guest was a woman. "You didn't run into any trouble, did you?" Vanessa asked with a trace of concern. She had always thought well of Alex and felt compelled to check on him.
"Trouble? Me? What could possibly trouble me?" Alex replied with an easy smile. "This is just a friend of mine. We finally caught up after a while and are discussing, you know, 'life' and 'the future.'" His tone carried a teasing note, though his smile seemed genuine.
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