"…Please go home, Mister Schneider."

"I will. If you explain what's going on."

"I'm not obliged to tell you." Her hands trembled against the doorframe. "This has nothing to do with you... Please just forget about me and go... I gave you full patent rights to SIBYL… Do whatever you want with it…"

"Cut it off with that bullshit!"

Julius stepped forward through the narrow space.

"I asked you a question. Did he take her? Did he take Anneliese?"

Silence stretched between them.

Isolde's shoulders sank. Her gaze dropped, teeth sinking into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"…Yes."

The word barely left her mouth.

"Why?!" Julius demanded. "He hasn't won the case yet. What gave that bastard the right to—"

"Please go now, Mister Schneider."

"...."

The concern on Julius's face was so bare as he watched Isolde slowly break in front of him.

"Did you just give her to him?" he frowned.

"…Mister Schneider."

"Did he blackmail you? Is that it?!"

"…I told you to go!"

Isolde tried to force the door shut once more. But Julius drove his fist into the frame. The wood shattered under the impact. Isolde stumbled down, Julius towering over her.

"Answer me," he said. "You don't just hand your child over unless you're cornered!"

Isolde recoiled, her pupils trembling as she looked up at him.

"This is property damage!" she cried. "What gives you the right to be here, Mister Schneider?!"

Her voice cracked as she pushed herself back.

"I was being nice when I told you to leave. But this is crossing the line!"

Julius did not move.

"You want to talk about lines?" he said. "Then tell me which one he crossed first!"

"Fine! You want to know why?!" Isolde snapped, eyes moistening. "Yes. He blackmailed me. If I didn't hand Anneliese over, he said he'd bring you down, Mister Schneider! He'd bring SIBYL down with you."

Her voice shook as the words spilled out.

"He said he has classified information about you. And that he wouldn't hesitate to drag your name through the mud if I didn't comply!"

"...."

Julius froze.

So Anneliese… had been given up because of him?

"I have it under control…" Isolde whispered, her strength draining away as she sank against the wall. "By the next hearing, I'll win. I'll get my daughter back. I will."

She looked up at him, desperation evident in her eyes.

"My ex-husband promised me," she continued. "Everything would be handled through legal channels. That he wouldn't touch you, me, or Anneliese, as long as I never work for you again after all of this is settled…"

Her hands trembled in her lap.

"So please," she said, "don't get involved, Mister Schneider…"

Julius stepped forward and lowered himself to her level. He reached out and closed his hand around hers.

"Who asked you to do that for me?" he said. "Have you forgotten who I am, Doctor?"

She tried to look away, but he held her there.

"If he has classified information that could destroy me, then let him," Julius continued. "Don't sacrifice your happiness for my sake. Don't sacrifice your daughter for someone like me."

His grip tightened.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Isolde's composure finally broke.

Tears spilled from her lavender eyes as she shook her head, her shoulders trembling with each sob.

Julius pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, letting her bury her face against his chest.

"I'm sorry…" she said between sobs. "I didn't want to inconvenience you. I didn't want to drag anyone into my problems…"

Her fingers tightened in his coat.

"I thought I could handle it on my own," Isolde continued, her voice cracking. "That if I just endured a little longer, it would all resolve itself. That I could fix everything without hurting anyone…"

"We'll get her back," he said. "We'll get Anneliese back. So don't be scared. Don't run away."

He held her a little closer.

"Turn to me for help," Julius continued. "And I'll crush anything that makes you cry."

"You don't understand what you're saying," she whispered. "If you move, he'll retaliate. He'll drag everything into the open. My ex-husband… he's a much more capable man than you think.

"Then let him," Julius replied. "I've lived my entire life with knives pointed at my throat."

She looked up at him, her eyes red and glistening, searching his face for doubt.

But Julius did not give her any.

"No matter what kind of man you believe him to be, in the end, he's no Schneider."

"...."

"Do you understand, Doctor? There is nothing in this world that will ever stop a Schneider."

* * *

Julius stopped in front of a certain house.

It was grand. Certainly well beyond what could be called middle class.

But it was nothing the Schneiders could not afford.

He broke in without hesitation.

Inside, police officers were already waiting, as though they had anticipated his arrival.

"Pathetic," Julius snorted.

By the balcony stood Frederick Aschoff, Isolde's ex-husband, and Anneliese's biological father.

Frederick gazed out over the estate grounds, his hands clasped behind his back. Only when the presence behind him refused to be ignored did he turn, surprise flashing across his face.

"This is illegal trespassing," he said. "You know that, don't you?"

"You must be retarded if you think the law works on someone like me."

Frederick's brows twitched at the crude remark.

"Perhaps not. After all, you do have that powerful father of yours to shield you."

Frederick took a step forward.

"Typical of a spoiled son who grew up knowing nothing of the outside world. I despise people like you, Mister Schneider. Children who have never faced hardship, thinking they can take whatever they want."

"Yes, yes," Julius replied casually as he took a seat on the couch across from him, looking almost bored. "So tell me. What is this classified information you claim to have on me? I'm quite interested."

Frederick laughed, a dry, humorless sound.

"So she really did run to you for help," he said. "Not surprising. That woman has always known how to crawl up to people in power. I wouldn't even be surprised if she slept with you, given how much you favor her."

That comment finally irked Julius.

"You should choose your next words very carefully," he said, his tone dropping. "Or I'll cut that proud tongue of yours."

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