The principal and teachers nearby all breathed a sigh of relief—at last, the boy's father seemed to have some sense and tact.
"How have I been teaching you all this time? I told you to discipline your son! Instead, you spend every day playing cards, and look at the trouble this ungrateful child has caused! Hurry up and apologize to Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Goodwin."
It was only then that the boy's mother seemed to snap out of her daze. Glancing at the two imposing men before her, she muttered a reluctant, "I'm sorry."
Ian radiated a cold, intimidating energy. "Name your price," he said icily.
The boy's father jumped, frantically waving his hands. "No, no! My wife was out of line—she spoke without thinking. We wouldn't dare demand any compensation from Mr. Goodwin. Please, I beg both Mr. Goodwin and Mr. Vaughn to forgive my son this once. I'll come in person to apologize properly another day."
Ian's voice was cool and dismissive. "Since your son's injured, let him stay home and recover for a while."
The father understood the message instantly and gave a nervous, ingratiating smile. "Of course, of course."
Principal Blake, a veteran in education, picked up on the subtext immediately—this boy was about to be expelled.
The father rounded on his wife and son, barking, "What are you waiting for? Get home, both of you! Embarrassing me like this."
"Hold on," Xavier said, his tone firm.
The father spun back around, a servile grin plastered on his face. "Yes, Mr. Vaughn? Is there anything else?"
"Have your son apologize to my niece," Xavier replied.
The father wasted no time; he grabbed his son by the arm and dragged him in front of Vivian. He fixed his son with a stern look. "Well? Apologize to your classmate. Now."
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