Obsessed to Hate Him-Chapter 12: Slip Up

KIAN

I am worried. I am worried about Lain and I don't even know why. This is ridiculous. I know. But there is no denying the worry brewing at the back of my mind. I am worried that Jennifer will do something that will ruin it for me and Lain both.

I want to ruin Lain. But I don't want her to lay her fingers on him. He is mine.

I love Jennifer. In fact, she is the only person I love in this whole world. I respect her. And she loves me too. She is protective—overprotective—toward me. And the moment I walked in with Lain in my arms, she knew. She always knows. She knew that Lain was bad news. This is why she insisted on talking to him in privet. And this was what I was worried about the entire time.

She will figure out about Lain sooner than me. And she will destroy him if she finds anything—even the tiniest bit of mishap. This is what I am worried about. I want Lain to be destroyed. And I want to be the one who gets the pleasure of doing so.

So, I can't let her find out. She can't know. She can't ruin it for me.

I fight to subside the worry lining my face and keep my expression neutral. I am good at it. I slowly cut through the meat on my plate and raise the fork to my lips. I don't have any appetite. The tension unfurling in my stomach is strangling it. But I can't skip it. Because she will know and it will pique her suspicion.

This is why I didn't want her to come.

"You have an interesting guest up there, Kian." Jennifer walks into the dining hall, her expression impressive.

"Good to hear." I lower my fork, place it on the side of my plate, clasp my hand on the table, and look up at her.

Jennifer pushes out a chair from the long dining table across from me. The table is long and big enough that at least six people can nap on it. She takes a seat, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. "You have a good judgment on who to keep your eyes on and keep close."

"Was it a compliment?" I chuckle—I hope it doesn't sound as strained as it to my ears—and shake my head, "The fourth one this year. I am throwing a party when the scale reaches ten this year." To be honest, it has always been my dream.

Jennifer doesn't compliment much. When she does, it's priceless. I count them every year. But the countdown never comes down to ten.

"I doubt your wish will come true this year as well." Jennifer snorts.

I laugh as well, the tension in my shoulders releasing a little. Just then, the doors of the dining hall fly open, and Laim storms inside, taut with tension.

"Oh, Lain." I offer him my get-under-your-skin smile.

He ignores it. His every inch looks so tight with tension that I am half convinced that the bowstring doesn't even hold this amount of tension. His face looks dry as well, and his eyes are unsettled.

"Hey, new boy." Jennifer grins, "Want some breakfast? Since you just woke up." As much as humor Jennifer's words hold, Lain looks far too off mood to sense it.

"Can I ask you something?" He slides onto a seat beside her, ignoring everything we have said up until now, "Are you...are you...blessed?"

Oh, I missed the part.

There are very few people in the inner cycle of the parliament and military officials who know that the Eryxs are blessed with eternal youth. Or close to it. This blessing grants us the miracle of never to age. No, we are not immortal, and we die eventually, but we die youthful. We stop aging after a specific time. But we don't have an immortal body. It's as simple as complicated it is.

Usually, the Gods bless only the royal families with the spell. But the Eryxs have enough achievement to surpass any noble blood and accomplish what we have accomplished. We deserve the blessing.

"Yes." My aunt replies matter-of-factly.

Lain blinks and the confusion and disbelief in his eyes are so adorable that I almost smile. Almost. "...How?"

"I am not telling you that." She chuckles.

And I am half-sure that Lain wants to pout but he doesn't, making me curl my lip with disappointment. "Can I eat something?" He inclines his head toward the table, decorated with various kinds of luxury food. The scent of delicious food wafts in the air.

He doesn't address the question to anyone specifically, so I take the initiative to answer him, "Go ahead. I don't want my prisoner to starve to death." I pick up my fork again, the tension in my muscles releasing and my appetite returning.

Jennifer doesn't touch the food laid out before us, and I don't bother her to tell her to eat because as much as she doesn't like me to tell her what to do, I despise telling her what to do.

Lain and I—for the first time since he came here—have a good dinner before the three of us retreat in our rooms.

I am still not sure why Jennifer suddenly popped out here but I don't ask her bout it. She will tell me herself when she feels like it.

Amidst all of it, the most important—aside from Lain—slips through my mind, and the next morning, I wake up with a nerve crackling in the pit of my stomach and gut flaring red.

"Commander." Fred is in front of my door as I comb my messy hair to perfection for the day. "You have a letter addressed to you."

My eyes drop to his hand and my stomach twists. I motion him to come in. He stoically comes in, hands me the letter, and retreats out of the room.

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The moment I open the letter, I feel a fist slam against my guts.

Shit. How can I forget about it?