Chapter 103 Juvenile Crime

Chapter 103 Juvenile Crime
Kristoff’s POV

I KNEW the call wasn't going to be pleasant the moment my mother knocked on my bedroom door.
She didn't come inside immediately. She stood there with one hand still resting on the doorknob, her expression carrying the same exhausted sadness she had been wearing for days.
“Your father wants to talk to you,” she said quietly.
I looked up from the textbook that I hadn't actually been reading. “Now?”
She nodded. “He said it's important.”
A bitter smile almost escaped me. Everything had become important ever since Aleli entered our lives.
I closed my laptop and stood. “Fine.”
Mom hesitated before placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Please,” she whispered, “try not to fight with him.”
I wanted to promise her. I really did. But I couldn't.
“I'll try.”
She sighed as if she already knew that was the best she was going to get.
A few minutes later, I walked into Dad's study. The large monitor on the desk was already connected. His face appeared almost immediately.
He was still overseas, sitting inside what looked like a hotel office, wearing a dark suit despite the late hour.
Even through a screen, his presence filled the room. He didn't greet me. He simply stared.
“You've been busy.”
I remained standing. “So have you.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I've been informed that you ignored my instructions.”
“I don't remember agreeing to them.”
His jaw tightened. “You're still involving yourself with that girl.”
“Aleli has a name.”
“And she has become a problem.”
“She became a target.”
“She became your obsession.”
Silence settled between us. 
Mom quietly entered the room and sat on the sofa behind me. She wasn't participating. She was there to stop us from destroying whatever relationship we still had.
Dad folded his hands together. “I'll make this simple.”
“Go ahead.”
“You will distance yourself from Aleli.”
“No.”
His expression didn't change. “You answered too quickly.”
“Because my answer hasn't changed.”
“You're choosing an orphan over your own family.”
I felt irritation rise inside me, but I forced myself to stay calm. “This isn't about choosing anyone.”
“Then explain it.”
“She needs protection.”
“She is not your responsibility.”
“I decided that she is.”
Dad leaned back. “You're twenty years old.”
“I know my age.”
“You think you understand the world.”
“I understand enough.”
“No.” His voice became colder. “You understand nothing.”
I took a slow breath. “If this conversation is only about forcing me to abandon her, then we're wasting time.”
Dad looked at me for several long seconds before speaking again. “This isn't only about her.”
Something in his tone made me pay closer attention. “It is also about what you've been doing.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You illegally entered judicial archive servers.”
I didn't answer.
“You thought nobody would notice.”
Still, I remained silent. Dad continued.
“The police Information Technology department tracked the unauthorized access.”
My heartbeat slowed instead of speeding up. “They informed me.”
For the first time since the call started, I genuinely felt surprised. “How?”
His expression hardened. “You accessed government records from your personal connection.”
“That shouldn't identify me immediately.”
“It does when the access belongs to the son of a businessman who regularly works with law enforcement agencies.”
I stared at the screen. Every possibility I had considered never included this.
“They traced my IP?”
“Yes.”
“And they contacted you?”
“Yes.”
Mom looked at me with obvious concern. “You promised me you stopped.”
I couldn't answer her.
Dad leaned forward in his chair, his expression hard enough to make the screen between us feel meaningless.
“Do you understand how serious this is?” he asked, his voice low but unmistakably stern.
I held his gaze and answered without hesitation. “I do.”
His jaw tightened. “No, you don't.”
I took a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm even though frustration was already building inside me.
“I know I broke regulations.”
He shook his head once. “You committed a crime, Kristoff.”
“I was looking for information.”
“You illegally entered government servers,” he shot back, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea what kind of consequences that carries?”
I clenched my hands at my sides. “I did it to protect someone.”
Dad let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “To satisfy your obsession.”
The word landed like a punch to the chest.
My brows drew together as I stared at him. “This isn't obsession.”
“Then what else would you call it?” he demanded, leaning even closer to the camera. “You're risking your future, your education, and even your family's reputation for a girl you've barely known.”
I felt every muscle in my body tighten. “You keep saying that like the amount of time I've known her matters more than what she's been through.”
Dad's expression remained unmoved.
“It matters because you're throwing everything away for someone who shouldn't have this much control over your decisions.”
“She doesn't control my decisions,” I replied, my voice sharper than before. “I'm choosing to stand beside her because everyone else keeps choosing to walk away.”
Dad laughed once. It wasn't amused, it was disappointed. “You're throwing away your future for a worthless orphan.”
Everything inside me went still. Mom immediately stood.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don't say that.”
But it was already too late. I looked directly at the screen.
“Don't call her that.”
Dad didn't even blink.
“She is exactly what I said,” he replied coldly.
My hands curled into fists. “Don't.”
“She has nothing.”
“She has more integrity than half the people I've met,” I shot back.
His expression remained unreadable. “She has a criminal family history.”
“She isn't responsible for that.”
“She brings problems wherever she goes.”
I took a step toward the monitor. “She survived problems that weren't hers.” Before I realized it, my voice had risen. “And you don't get to reduce her life to one sentence.”
For the first time, Dad's expression shifted. Not into anger, into disbelief. “You're defending her.”
“Yes.”
“You're raising your voice at your father because of her.” 
Mom quickly stepped between me and the monitor. “Kristoff,” she pleaded softly.
But I couldn't stop. “You've never even tried to know her.”
“I know enough.”
“You know reports.”
“I know facts.”
“You know assumptions.”
Dad leaned closer to the camera, his eyes hardening. “No.” His voice cut through the room like a blade. “I know that you've become completely delusional.”
Neither Mom nor I answered.
He continued without hesitation. “You've convinced yourself that protecting her is some noble cause.”
“It is.”
“No.”
His gaze never left mine. “You're obsessing over a juvenile criminal.”
Everything around me seemed to stop. The room fell silent. Even Mom froze beside me.
I stared at the screen, certain I had misheard him. My lips parted, but no words came out.
After a long moment, I finally found my voice. “What... did you say?” 
Dad didn't repeat himself immediately. Instead, he watched my face carefully.
As if measuring my reaction.
“She isn't—”
The words refused to leave my throat.
Aleli? A criminal?
Impossible.
She was gentle to the point of apologizing when other people bumped into her. She blamed herself for things that weren't even her fault. She still carried guilt over Uncle Jerry because she believed she had cost him his life.
Nothing about her matched that description.
I shook my head. “No.”
Dad remained completely calm. “You didn't know.”
It wasn't a question. It was a realization.
My silence answered him.
Mom slowly turned toward the screen. “What are you talking about?”
Dad ignored her. His attention stayed on me. “I see that you didn't know the truth yet.”
Every muscle in my body tightened. “What truth?”
He didn't answer.
“What truth?”
His expression became unreadable. “The information isn't public.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because you need to understand who you're risking everything for.”
I stepped closer to the desk. “Tell me.”
“No.”
My fist clenched. “You started this!”
“And I'm ending it.”
I stood and stepped toward the monitor, chest heaving with so much emotions. “You can't accuse someone and refuse to explain.”
“I didn't accuse anyone.” His voice remained calm. “I stated what exists in the records.”
I could barely hear my own heartbeat. “What records?”
“The same ones you illegally tried to access.”
Mom looked between us helplessly. “Please stop.”
Neither of us listened.
I stared at Dad. “If there is something about Aleli that I don't know, then tell me.”
He slowly shook his head. “You're already too involved.”
“That isn't your decision.”
“It is while you're still my son.”
For the first time in my life, I felt a distance between us that no argument could bridge. He wasn't trying to protect me anymore. He was trying to control what I knew.
And somehow, that frightened me more than anything else.
Dad reached toward something outside the camera. “I've already contacted legal counsel.”
My eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“If you access another government server, I will personally authorize the appropriate action.”
“You'd report your own son?”
“If that's what it takes to stop you.”
Mom covered her mouth. “Enough.”
Dad finally looked at her. “This conversation is over.” Then he returned his gaze to me. “Stay away from Aleli Amore.”
I held his stare. The call disconnected. The monitor went black.
Silence swallowed the room.
Mom slowly sat down, tears gathering in her eyes. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. One sentence echoed over and over inside my head.
Juvenile criminal.
It didn't fit. It didn't make sense.
Unless there was another truth buried somewhere beneath every erased file, every rewritten record, and every warning we had uncovered.
And, suddenly, I realized I wasn't just afraid of what we might find. 
I was afraid of what Aleli herself had never been allowed to remember.