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Julian nods, thinking this over.

"I was going to give him a different job to originally, but something's come up. One of Anton's grandsons walked up to me during my lunch the other day and threatened to expose me. If the man had simply asked me for money, I would have given it to him. /Technically/, he's my family, even if he's the spawn of one of the traitorous bastards that refused to come see Anton on his deathbed, even after he practically /begged/ for them to visit." Julian says, bitterness creeping into his voice.

He remembered how canny, how crafty and strong Anton Howard was when he was a boy. There are few humans that Julian considers worthy of respect, or even /admire/, but his adopted father was one of them. His children, however, judged his worth solely upon how much money they'd get from him upon his death.

When he cut them out of his Will, they slandered him to anyone who would listen. They refused to speak with him. Only Julian had ever seen the pain they put him through, heard the nights that Anton fell asleep, crying into a glass of whiskey at being a "lonely old man".

Julian swore he'd treat his family better. Except...at the funeral, they'd called him all many of horrible things, things that Minnie would remember hearing. When they tried to sue the estate for what they thought was "rightfully theirs", when they'd broken into the house and stolen so many of Anton's things, Julian could take it no longer.

He'd started killing them one by one, them and their children.

"But no. He accused me of being a liar and a thief, just like all the others. One of his sons is in prison and the other...was in the Mob down South, last I heard. I own a house down there that I've only looked at once.

I suppose I should decide whether or not to keep it." Julian says, more to himself than her, taking another sip of his brandy.