He stood straight at the window, coldly staring outside, but inside he felt extremely restless. His pocket was empty of cigarettes, and the temples of his head throbbed violently. If that man, Marcus Pearl, who harbored ulterior motives in approaching her, was a ticking time bomb, then his true opponent—Flame Kairis, a cunning and all-pervasive “king of espionage”—was the real sword hanging over his head. He drew the dark red curtains, plunging the room into darkness, and slowly walked along the black marble windowsill to the sofa.
His long fingers inadvertently brushed against the ribbon tied around the paper box on the coffee table. Although the rose was somewhat wilted, the thorns on the stem were still sharp. Suddenly pricked, he withdrew his finger, the sting causing him to squint at his fingertip, where a drop of bright red blood began to ooze.
The droplet grew larger, eventually forming a thin stream of blood that quietly trailed down his finger in the darkness. He paid it no mind, for the darkness calmed him, and pain would awaken him.
Khanyi didn’t know whether to trust her reason or her feelings.
Another sleepless night had left her pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Since returning from his office building yesterday, she had been sitting on the sofa in a daze, not even changing out of her clothes and shoes. The black long dress and stockings had been on her all night. She knew she couldn’t calm down and think rationally; her mind was tangled with countless thoughts, and she couldn’t figure out how to sort them out. Was all of this really a complete deception? Were all the separations and reunions premeditated by him? Just thinking about this made her tears well up again, and she lowered her head, sobbing softly. She inadvertently noticed her ankle, where a faint black tattoo of his name was visible on her delicate bone structure. He had released her in the woods, yet tied this black thread around her ankle, making it impossible for her to escape his control no matter where she ran. She couldn’t judge which of his words were true and which were lies. She longed to know where Victor was now; when she had questioned him in his office yesterday, he hadn’t given her a definite answer.
“Miss Gianna, it seems Mr. Friedrich has returned; I saw his car,” Evelyn said, a hint of panic in her voice as she rushed into the room from the yard.
Khanyi suddenly looked up at the door, noticing that the large wooden door was not fully closed, and a slender black figure had already flashed behind the inner door of the shutters.
She watched him enter the hall, unable to see his face because he didn’t, as usual, remove his black leather boots and uniform coat after stepping into the house. This time, he didn’t even take off his hat; the black brim obscured half of his face, making his chin appear even sharper. He stood at the entrance like an immovable statue. She lowered her head, looking at the dark floor and the corner of the coffee table.
He began to walk towards her, the sound of his black leather boots echoing rhythmically on the floor. She sat upright on the sofa, and although she didn’t look at him, she could clearly hear his footsteps, her heart racing in sync with his pace.
He stopped a few steps away from her, first remaining silent for a moment, then spoke in a detached tone, “This is the key to the house.” He opened his gloved hand, revealing a dark greenish-black brass key resting in his palm.
She instinctively glanced at his palm, but he ignored her look of surprise and continued, “The chef, the gardener, the maid… If you want to dismiss them, feel free. However, even if you do dismiss them, they won’t report to my office the next morning.” After saying this, he slightly bent down and gently placed the key on the coffee table in front of her.
She was even more astonished, her black eyes fixed on his face, and for a moment, their eyes met. Yet, there was no hint of guilt on his face, only absolute indifference; his blue eyes showed no sign of emotion. This man was still so handsome, with a high nose and deep-set eyes, his pupils a cold blue. But suddenly, she felt he was so unfamiliar. He was so close, just a few steps away, yet it felt as if they were separated by centuries. Instantly, her tears burst forth like a dam breaking.
This time, he also didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“I won’t come here again,” his voice was somewhat hoarse, a cold smile playing at the corners of his lips as he lightly pointed his index finger at her forehead. “From now on, this house will belong to you alone.”
“You…!” She was completely stunned. What did he mean? Was he fully admitting to her accusations, or was it something else? In any case, everything was beyond her expectations. She even thought that perhaps he really had some unspeakable secret, that there was some misunderstanding between them. If he had made a strong effort to explain, providing her with reasonable reasons, she might even consider continuing to trust him. But he didn’t explain a single word, not one.
