Chapter 63: Trap And Bait.

“Crystal,” Dua clarified, her heart pounding as she braced herself for his response. The name hung in the air, thick with emotion.

Steven clenched his fists tightly, struggling to steady the tremors that coursed through him at the memories of Crystal flashing before his eyes—sweet laughter, stolen glances, and promises made under starlit skies.

"Seeing how you dedicated a room in the house to her and her portrait on the wall, I figured out that she’s your first love,” Dua continued, unaware of the turmoil inside him. Her voice held a gentle firmness, as if she were a lifeline in the storm of his thoughts.

"But it's okay if you don’t want to tell me about her... this time, at least you didn’t rage at me for mentioning her name," she added, offering a smile that tried to mask her pain.

Slowly, she reached for his face, brushing her fingertips against his skin in a tender gesture. “Although I’m a little hurt that you still have someone else in your heart, I’ll wait for you... just don’t make me wait too long.”

Her words warmed his heart, and a smile crept up his lips as he marveled at her confidence and unwavering support. “You really don’t know how to give up, do you?” he said, his voice softening.

“Nope, and that’s what makes me unique,” she replied, her laughter light and genuine as it danced between them.

“I’m waiting for you, so come to me quickly,” she sealed her words with a delicate peck on his lips.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted their moment, and Dua inquired who it was.

“I just want to know if everything’s okay?” Sandra’s voice floated in from outside.

“Everything’s okay,” Dua responded, her gaze still locked on Steven.

“I have to go now,” he said, and she nodded, understanding the weight of unspoken burdens in the air.

Together, they exited the bedroom into the living room, where the Sierre family awaited them with worried yet expectant looks on their faces.

"My King," Bob declared, bowing abruptly upon spotting Steven, causing Dua to flinch at his unexpected display of reverence.

"I’m truly honored by your presence in my humble abode," Bob continued, igniting a scornful scoff from Dua.

Steven stepped out of the house, seemingly indifferent to Bob’s theatrics. His fiery gaze followed Steven as he walked out with Dua.

As Steven approached his car, Dua instinctively grasped his sleeve, halting him in his tracks. "I can’t believe you actually came here for me," she began, her eyes fixed on his sleeve, vulnerable and uncertain.

"Thank you... and I’m sorry," she continued, her voice almost a whisper.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"For getting mad at you over something that felt trivial now. What you did hurt, but after hearing you out, I feel guilty," she confessed, her words tumbling over one another.

"Did your feelings for me change you?" Steven asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Huh?" Dua's head shot up, confusion written all over her face.

"The Dua that'd look me in the eyes and fearlessly tell me absolute bullshit, can she come back? I'm really missing her." Steven stated, his expression sincere yet playful.

"That’s only because you haven’t done anything to summon her back," she replied, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile.

"What can I do to bring her back?" he taunted gently.

"Fuck you," Dua retorted, although there was no bite in her tone.

"Ah, I think she’s back!" Steven laughed, the sound rich and infectious.

"You should laugh more often; it’s cute," Dua admitted, her cheeks warming slightly.

"Wait a minute," he leaned closer, an eyebrow raised. "Are you actually flirting with me right now?"

"And why would I do that?" Dua scoffed, crossing her arms with mock indignation. "Get the hell out of here while I’m still being nice."

With a chuckle dancing in his eyes, Steven slipped into his car and drove away.

Once he was out of sight, Dua returned to the living room with a huff. "Y'all are a bunch of hypocrites," she hissed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You despise him and wish him dead, yet you still worship him when you see him."

Bob's lips curled into a sneer. "Oh, but seeing how he came here for you—I’d say he cherishes you."

Dua arched an eyebrow, her expression a mix of confusion and anger. "What does his so-called 'cherishing' have to do with your twisted little game? It’s irrelevant—just like all of you."

Bob stepped closer, a calculating glint in his eyes. "It is relevant, actually. It’s given birth to a new plan, and guess what, sweetheart? You’re going to be the instrument of its success."

Dua's eyes widened, dread beginning to creep into her heart. "He doesn’t cherish me; your plan is going to fall flat."

Bob chuckled softly, as if he were amused by her defiance. "Oh, but you’re mistaken, dear daughter. Trust me, this will work out perfectly."

"Don't push your luck, Mr." Dua shot back, her tone laced with warning. The steel in her gaze reflected her unwillingness to back down. "I'm in no mood for your games."

"Darling, your reluctance means nothing. The drama is already unfolding, and you’re right in the center of it," Bob replied, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Her patience wearing thin, Dua snapped, "Do you want my help or not?"

"Oh, sweet thing, you’re not really helping," Bob said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You will do as I say because you don’t have a choice."

"Who says I have to obey you?" Dua scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Says life," Bob replied calmly, a sinister edge to his voice.

Dua’s heart pounded in her chest as he continued, "For now, all you have to do is convince your husband to become the Mafia Lord. Or else…"

"Or else what?" she dared, staring him down with fierce determination.

"Or else he’ll die," Bob stated flatly, a chilling certainty in his tone.

Dua let out a short, mocking laugh. "And you really think you can kill him?" she said, a smirk dancing on her lips, but her eyes were sharp and curious.

Bob leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Absolutely. You'll be both the trap and the bait."

Dua's smirk faltered as the weight of his words sank in, her heart pounding in her chest as fear crept in.