Chapter 332

Chapter 332
Ice remained rooted by the door long after War disappeared up the stairs with Kenji.

The house felt quieter now, heavier.

He unclenched his fists slowly, flexing his fingers as if the tightness in them might somehow explain the sharp, ugly feeling sitting in his chest.

Jealousy.

He almost laughed at himself. It was ridiculous. He didn't even like Kenji. He had made that clear. Repeatedly. Kenji was controlling, arrogant, a businessman who thought money and threats could rearrange people's lives. Ice had spent every moment since the contract trying to keep distance, to protect whatever scraps of freedom he still had.

So why did the sight of that blonde walking in feel like someone had reached into his ribs and twisted?

War was everything Ice was not.

Soft-spoken. Polished. Pretty in a delicate, almost fragile way — the kind of beauty that looked expensive and careful. Slim hands, smooth hair, clothes that whispered money and manners. He had smiled at Kenji like it was natural, like he belonged in this house, in Kenji's space. And Kenji had smiled back. Polite, yes, but still a smile.

Ice's jaw tightened.

Kenji's type.

The thought had come so fast it startled him. Classy. Boring. Ready for business. The kind of man who would never stomp on Kenji's foot or spill coffee on purpose or call him a psycho to his face. The kind of man who would probably say "yes, Kenji" in that soft voice and mean it.

Ice hated how clearly he could picture it.

He hated even more that the image made something hot and unpleasant crawl under his skin.

He pushed off the door and walked into the living room, restless. His earlier plan to leave and meet Ren suddenly felt less important. Or maybe too important. He needed air. He needed noise. He needed anything that wasn't the sound of footsteps upstairs and the knowledge that Kenji was alone with that soft-spoken blonde, showing him a room, being hospitable.

Ice stopped in front of the large windows and stared out at the quiet street.

You're being stupid, he told himself.

Kenji doesn't belong to you. This isn't real. It's a contract. One year. Then it's over.

But the memory of Kenji's hand on his stomach that morning, the low voice against his ear, the way those dark eyes had watched him flush — all of it rose up uninvited. And right behind it came the image of War's slim hand in Kenji's much larger one.

Ice's fingers curled against the glass.

He didn't want Kenji.

He just… didn't want anyone else to have him either.

And that, more than anything, pissed him off.

"Whatever." Then he left the house.

He wasn't some jealous husband who would trail his husband all day to make sure he doesn't go out of line. In fact, he wasn't a husband at all.

As he drove off on his bike, his chest tightened in anger, but that was the main reason he needed to leave, to stop whatever these crazy feelings were.

Back at the house, Kenji was showing War a room right next to Ice's.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, let me know." Kenji stood beside the door, hands in his pockets.

He was eager to get back downstairs and make sure he hadn't misinterpreted the look he saw in Ice's eyes. If Ice was truly jealous, then it changes everything.

But who was he kidding? Ice was... Ice; that boy would never give in to him.

"Kenji?" War called quietly.

Kenji returned his gaze to the man in front of him, trying his best to focus. "Is there anything else?"

War smiled, shaking his head. "No. I just wanted to know if any of these rooms are yours." He gestured to the rooms along the walls.

"No. My room is at the opposite side of this wing." Kenji answered.

"I bet it has a nice view," War said.

Kenji nodded. "I guess so." He patted War's shoulder.

"Settle yourself in and I'll order us something to eat. I don't cook." Kenji smiled and moved.

"I can cook," War spoke behind him.

"I love cooking. Actually, that's what I do on YouTube and on my socials. But since my kitchen is currently out of my reach for now, will you let me use yours?" He blinked slowly, watching Kenji's reaction like a hawk.

He was expecting to see amazement, maybe even interest, but Kenji simply nodded.

"Sure. The food's nice, I hope?" Kenji asked.

He was ready to lend his kitchen to War. It wasn't like he used it often, but he was never ready to compromise his taste buds.

War laughed softly. "Don't worry. It's even better than Ramsay's." He assured.

"If you say so. Come on, I'll drive you to get some groceries... I have none." He was already walking away as he said that, eyes locked ahead and ready to face Ice.

However, as he returned to the living room, he realised that Ice had left... and he had no idea where he had gone.

"Are you okay?" War asked behind Kenji.

"Give me a minute to dress up," Kenji said and walked away.

\---

"Dude, coming from me, you've had enough cigarettes for two weeks." Ren plucked the cigarette from Ice's lips and placed it on his, smirking.

Ice scoffed. "This is my first one. You're the one who's burned a whole pack." Ice gestured to the scattered ashes and empty box of cigarettes on the garage floor.

Ren shrugged, his dark, silky hair moving in waves over his shoulders and toward his waist.

"I guess you're right. But I'm only smoking because you're tense. You know I'm an empath." Ren smiled.

"Whatever, Ren. I just need the year to go by quickly and—"

"Relax, man. Why are you even getting worked up over him? It's fake, right? Right?" Ren asked, violet eyes narrowed.

Ice nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

Ren shrugged. "Then it really shouldn't bother you whether the year goes by fast or not. You know, if I were you—"

"Thanks, Ren. But I won't be sleeping with Mr. Takumi." Ice shut him down.

"Well, he's hot, rich, and I bet you're going to spend the rest of your life wondering what size his dick is." Ren threw the half cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with his foot.

"Race you to the cliff." Ice threw his leg over his bike, cutting Ren off.

Before Ren could react, Ice was already driving out of the garage and toward the setting sun.

"Sounds like fun." Ren hopped on his bike and sped toward Ice.

After riding the whole day, Ice and Ren made a stop at a restaurant and grabbed something to eat.

"So, still heading home?" Ren asked.

"That's not my home, but yeah..." Ice nodded.

Ren frowned at his phone. "Seriously? Another threat to the president's son? The boy never even appears on media."

"You tell me," Ice murmured, shaking his head.

Ren sighed. "Well, maybe it's a media stunt."

"You tell me," Ice repeated, his mind going back to Kenji and War.

Kenji must have forgotten about him. After spending the whole day with War, he must have realised that Ice was just not the kind of man for him.

"Shit, I've gotta go." Ren sprang up, smiling mischievously. "Bella's gonna kill me. I forgot my things in the living room." He chuckled and ran out of the restaurant.

Ice shook his head. Ren was like that, littering his belongings across the whole house and causing his housemate premature high blood pressure.

Ice didn't leave immediately. He could not bring himself to go home. He told himself he wasn't scared of what he might find, but deep down, he was playing the worst scenarios in his head.

He sat in the restaurant until the skies darkened completely. Only then did he leave. He was about to get on his bike when he got a text on his phone.

Momo: \[Hey, Ice. Can we have dinner tonight?\]

Ice's expression didn't change one bit as he slid his phone back into his pocket. He had already exhausted his reactions for the day. He would reply tomorrow... if his mood lifted.

Driving back, he was slow, enjoying the night wind and the way it caressed his white hair. As he approached the estate, his heart suddenly slowed, hands turning cold for no reason.

"Fuck," he mumbled as he drove through the automatic gates.

He turned off his bike and slowly got off it. Through the glass walls, he could see the kitchen lights were turned on and wondered if Kenji was making another coffee.

Quietly, he slid open the door and walked into the quiet living room.

"Oh, no, Kenji, gosh... that's so funny." War's soft laughter echoed from the kitchen.

Ice stilled, hands curling into fists instantly. He knew it. Kenji wasn't bothered one bit by his absence. Why would he be, when he had a doll with him?

"What is wrong with you?" he asked himself and walked toward the kitchen.

"I'm going to get water," he murmured to convince himself.

He had just stepped through the kitchen door when Kenji spoke.

"That's not very professional of you, chef, mocking your student." Kenji said in a relaxed tone.

Ice's eyes went straight to them. They stood side by side in front of the oven. Kenji was staring at whatever they had put in there with anticipation while War stared at Kenji like he was the dinner.

They hadn't even noticed him.

Ice walked over to the tall fridge and pulled the door open, making sure the sound announced his arrival.

From his peripheral view, he saw Kenji instantly turning away from the oven, but he didn't react. He simply opened his water and drank it quietly, facing the opened fridge.

Kenji moved, walking toward Ice without looking back at the pouting man behind him.

War stood there, watching them closely. He already knew from earlier that their marriage was fake, so he just wanted to make sure there was really nothing going on between them.

"Ice," Kenji called behind the younger man, frowning.

Ice unhurriedly finished his water and gently closed the fridge. "Good evening, Mr. Takumi." He slowly turned, refusing to meet Kenji's gaze.

"Where did you go?" Kenji lowered his voice. "I told you it's not safe to leave—"

"But I'm back here, safe. Don't worry. Please return to your cooking lessons. I'll be out of your way in a second." He stepped past Kenji and walked toward the door.

"Ice," War called softly.

Ice didn't stop. It wasn't the next day, so his reactions hadn't refilled.

"We're making lasagna. Would you..." War trailed off as Ice walked out of the kitchen, ignoring him.

"Kenji, do you think Ice hates me? Maybe I'll leave first thing tomorrow—"

"No, no, you're not leaving." Kenji sighed.

"I promised your cousin I'd let you stay here, and I meant it. You can leave once your home is cleared from court." Kenji assured.

"Thanks," War smiled. "Do you want to wait with me? It's almost ready." He asked, biting his lip nervously.

Kenji didn't even think twice. "I have to go now, War. But I did enjoy your cooking lessons, and I can't wait to eat it." He said and headed for the door.

He had spent the whole day making sure War wasn't alone for his first day in his house, and also keeping himself from making one call to Sebastian and tracking Ice immediately.

Ice would only resent him more if he ever found out he was stalking him.

"Thank you for spending the day with me," War replied.

Kenji left the kitchen and War sighed. He was hoping to bring the lasagna out together with Kenji, but it turned out Ice appeared to be somewhat important to Kenji.

"Don't worry, lasagna, I'm here for you." He murmured to himself.

Upstairs, Ice threw his shirt onto his bed, cursing silently under his breath.

"Lasagna my foot. Why not fuck him over the counter already?" He scoffed, pacing his room.

What angered him more was the fact that he could not get himself to stop thinking about it like it was his business.

He shouldn't care. Even if he walked in on Kenji kissing War, it should not bother him. Yet the simple image of them standing together and laughing so domestically was messing heavily with his head.

At this rate he might just go crazy before War leaves, and God knows how long that innocent monster was planning to stay with them... them?