My CEO Boss Is A Masked Internet Sensation-Chapter 113: His Secrets

(Arata)

"I do love dark shades but my room is my sanctuary where I feel most relaxed and at peace. The lighter shades help build up the quietude and repose. That’s why I opted for these tones," he gradually explained.

It made perfect sense. Black just absorbed every light and made everything appear grim and dull. With his personality, he certainly needed to be surrounded less by that colour so he could be cheerful at times.

"Why keep the door black?" I couldn’t help but ask, still holding the cookie jar hostage.

He extended his hand and requested.

"Let me have my cookies and I will explain."

I extended the jar towards him and he accepted, his rough fingertips merely brushing against my fingers like tiny cackling electric sparks.

Taking the jar, Karsten walked away and proudly placed it on his coffee table before sprawling himself on his extremely comfortable-looking sofa. Placing his arm on the curved back of his sofa he patted the space beside him with his other hand, inviting me forward.

Quietly, I moved, and his glazed eyes followed my every movement.

Nervous! This man made me nervous.

I pushed a lock of hair back so my hands weren’t idle. The walk seemed to last an hour with him not even blinking and keeping his face as blank as he could. Only his soot-black eyes held unwavering emotions.

Reaching the sofa I perched myself beside him, adjusting my dress. I slightly turned to face him, placing my hands on my legs.

"The black door indicates that all my negative emotions, feelings and thoughts should be left outside that door. So when I enter my space, I am calm and relaxed."

Leaning in, he grabbed the cookie jar. The inked veins in his hand jutted out, creating a network running up to his muscular arm.

Karsten unscrewed the lid and took out a large cookie. Bringing it closer to his nose he took a deep whiff as if enjoying its aroma.

A small bite he took, making a crunching sound and I watched him enjoy the sweet round goodness.

"It’s delicious. Tell your grandma that I am grateful to her," he said in gratitude before taking another bite. His cheeks fluffed as he slowly chewed, his eyes revealing how he loved every bite.

"She is the expert when it comes to cookies. I will pass on your message."

"My grandma hates cooking; she was always business-minded and found cooking a menial task. And I never met my other grandmother so no cookies for me. You are lucky, Arata." Karsten admitted with a snort and plopped the last part of his cookie into his mouth.

But I could sense this admittance weighed heavily on him, he wished for stronger family bonds.

He chewed softly, sophisticatedly, making no noise.

Well, my real paternal grandmother was a whore, who sold my dad and then tried to come back to him when he became rich. The mere thought of that left a bad taste in my mouth.

But I didn’t say all that to Karsten. He had comfortably leaned back into the sofa and I could see the layers of muscles from under his tank top. His right hand now rested on his lean thigh while his left remained on the sofa back.

"I never met my maternal grandma as well. She died when mom was young," I explained, twitching my hands together.

Something shifted in his mood, it twisted and darkened. And then he blurted out the words I never thought he would.

"Such is life. My dad cheated on my mom so she left him. He was a serial cheater."

Shit! He was going to share the story of his father and looking at him told me this was not going to be pretty.

Every muscle in his face had hardened, the hand resting on his thigh clutched it tightly.

Instead of staring at me, he was now gazing up towards the heavens through the skylight but I knew he was not particularly focused on anything as he continued to share his story.

"He then married Roshra and Rahsir’s mother and cheated on her too, continually. He also sexually assaulted her so she ended up committing suicide." His tone was filled with vitriol and disgust.

Oh! God, that was horrible.

Karsten shook his head as if trying to dispel some bad memories. His jaw strained and hardened, any hint of playfulness was gone.

This was such a big revelation and I had never imagined he would suddenly share such details with me. I had picked up the vibes that he hated his father but I never knew how deep that hatred ran.

Terrible! What a terrible human being. Disgust was embroiled inside me and I could imagine and understand why Camilla was the way she was.

Unknowingly I reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his hard arm when he said.

"I hate him more than anyone else in this world and I wish he hadn’t been my father. I feel such repugnance to be associated with someone like him. We never tell anyone who he is and the reason I took my mother’s last name," he continued to share these deep dark secrets of his life.

I squeezed his arm.

"Just remember, you are nothing like him. The person who donated a sperm doesn’t define us; we choose our own destinations, and I think you have done pretty good so far."

I couldn’t help but draw a comparison with my father and felt lucky.

Karsten’s lips spread in a wounded smile as he continued to say.

"What if I have some traits, some inner demons acquired from him. This has always hindered me from building a proper relationship."

So these were his insecurities. Was this the reason he didn’t wish to pursue the prospect of marriage?

It explained a lot, his fears, his apprehensions.

I guessed it was time to tell him the story of my parents and assuage some of these fears he had been carrying.

Because from what I had come to know about him so far, Karsten had a deeply caring heart, he just didn’t want everyone to see it.