Chapter 25 Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
⚓️⚓️⚓️
Zeke
I glanced at my wristwatch the fourth time in the space of two minutes. The hands of the clock suddenly seemed slower than usual. I moved my attention to the steak on my plate. I heard Qyle snicker beside me, and fixed him a glare. Somehow, I'd convinced him to stay back for dinner with my family. As a norm with the royal family, dinner together was a must. I had many things on my plate. Getting thrown into the dungeon because I killed Alex wasn't one of them. But with Qyle there, I felt I could get a rein on my emotions.
“How's your business going?” My father asked Qyle as he took a sip of blood. Wendy sat beside him, giving him lewd gazes. I might have been embarrassed if I cared. Instead, I counted down the time it'd take for dinner to be over.
“Fine.” One word. It was the kind of response my father hated, and Qyle knew it. I hid a satisfied smile as a dark look crossed my father's face. Making a mental note to allow Qyle to win in our next game, I took a bite of my steak.
“I see.” Knowing better than to flare up at the rock in human form- Qyle, my father simply replied. I felt Alex's stare on me, and I raised my head. He had a sly smile on his face.
“Anything you want to tell me?” I probed.
“I didn't think you'd recover so quickly,” he shrugged.
I knew he was referring to Mirah. But if he thought I was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flare up, he was joking.
“Oh? Do you care about me so much to leave the matter you have on ground, and focus on mine?” I asked, my voice bland.
His eyelids twitched, and the confident look on his face vanished. “W-what are you talking about?”
I cocked my head to the side. “You know what. Common, don't act dumb, Brother.” It wasn't often that I engaged in a banter of words with my stepbrother. But whenever I did, it never ended well.
“What are your plans about settling down, Qyle?” My father asked in an attempt to change the topic. But I wasn't ready to let go.
“Don't you want to let Father know what you've been to?” I probed further. I took a bite of my lasagne alla bolognese. I had a thing for Italian cuisines, and I'd made sure to include it in the menu. Alex's face alternated between black and white, while I continued eating.
“Why are you pushing your brother to a corner, Zeke?” Wendy asked sweetly, her eyes crinkling. However, her eyes were turning red. I didn't back down. The sound of my name in that voice of hers, irritated me. Alex had stopped looking at me. He was now staring hard at his plate, probably wishing he could retaliate.
My stepbrother was a full fledged playboy who could fuck anything under a skirt. He'd slowed down his disgraceful activities since he got a toy. Especially as he was a candidate to become the next king. But he wasn't careful enough. I'd gotten hold of an information which I was going to use against him when the time came.
“A corner?” I rose to my feet, and motioned to Qyle.
“It was such a lovely dinner, King Elliott.” I heard him say, as I walked away. He actually meant it.
Qyle thrived in bloodshed. And the next best thing to it, was tension-filled moments.
He matched my pace, as I headed to my room.
“It's commendable that you can sit through an entire dinner, without snapping their necks.” He laughed.
“I'd love to.” I retorted, shaking my head.
🪯🪯🪯
Mirah
My mother's call, and Jayden's threat vanished to the back of my mind as the days passed by. As Nessa's birthday party approached, I focused on persuading her to have a big birthday party. She was turning twenty-three after all. After countless reasons why she should throw a mini party, invite people, instead of the little stay-at-home birthday celebration we usually had, my efforts finally paid off. Hultons was the perfect and most expensive hotel in America. It was where the party was being held. Brightly illuminated, with guests moving around, it was worth the money.
“Thank you,” I smiled at a passing waiter, and grabbed a glass of red wine. I watched as the celebrant attended to her guests. But with the look on her face, I knew she'd rather be eating an apple, than to chat with the man currently at her front. And Nessa hated apples. I caught her pleading look and grinned inwardly. I was about to go over, when I caught the sight of someone. It was hard to miss him, when his aura shone in the room of two hundred guests. He was standing close to the entrance, with a look that could cut ice, on his face. I followed his gaze, and a full fledged smile covered my face.
With his black cheek mole as his distinctive physical trait, Qyle George was one of America's hot bachelors. It might be important to include that he was wealthy. Very wealthy.
Nessa obviously hadn't noticed him. She had made it clear to me that the relationship between them was strictly business. Nothing more, and nothing less. I placed my glass on a nearby table, but by the time I turned back towards the entrance, Qyle was no longer there.
“Pardon me, but I beg to have a dance with the celebrant.” I said sweetly, gently pulling Nessa away.
She flashed the business man a pretentious sorry look, and followed me to the dance floor.
“Thank you,” She breathed. “I was afraid I'd go down in history as the first birthday celebrant to stab her guest with a fork, at her own birthday party.” She laughed.
“How bad was it?” I grinned.
She made a weird face, and shook her head. “Very.”
We broke into fits of laughter. Nessa looked stunning that evening. She was putting on her latest design- flora, which had many ladies swooning, and booking orders ahead of time. I admired the attraction— in a good way of course. The last thing I'd ever do, was to get jealous of my best friend. She had a rein on her life, while mine was spiraling out of control. I cleared my throat, as if that'd make my thoughts go away.
“I presume you don't invite your clients to your birthday parties?” I asked, turning her around. She danced gracefully into my arms again.
“What do you mean?” Her eyes crinkled.
“Say, what are the possibilities of Qyle George attending your birthday party, if you invited him?” I asked her nonchalantly.