Chapter 121 Alaric's Confession
Bianca was curled up in Terrence's arms when she tilted her head up, her voice muffled and drowsy. "What's so important?"
Something in Terrence's chest softened. He bent down, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead, his tone threaded with amusement. "Time to get up for breakfast."
Still lulled by his voice, Bianca sat up slowly, letting him ease her into a soft, oversized lounge top.
She sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed slightly, her voice reluctant. "It's your fault... my whole body's sore. I don't want to eat."
She started to flop backward toward the inviting comfort of the pillows, but Terrence's arm shot out, stopping her from sinking into the mattress.
"No. Breakfast first," he said firmly.
Before she could protest, his arm slid under her knees, the other bracing her back. In one smooth motion, he lifted her clean off the bed.
Caught off guard, Bianca looped her arms around his neck, her voice low and teasing. "You could at least warn me..."
Terrence's eyes glinted with a smile. "If I warned you, you might refuse. Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach. You were lecturing Donny about eating properly yesterday—why is it suddenly different for you?"
Bianca pouted, muttering under her breath, "I'm not like him. I don't have insomnia, and I don't take... questionable stuff."
Her quiet grumbling only made her more endearing in Terrence's eyes.
His smile deepened. "Come on."
At the dining table, Donny was already there, slouched in a loose-fitting hoodie, silver hair a wild mess. He scratched his head as he pulled out a chair.
Hearing footsteps behind him, Donny rested a hand on the chair back and glanced over his shoulder.
The sight of Terrence carrying Bianca made him let out a sharp whistle. A wicked grin tugged at his mouth. "Terrence, what did you do to her? She can barely walk straight. That's ruthless—she only had a few extra drinks and you...?"
Bianca's cheeks flared crimson. She wriggled out of Terrence's hold in a hurry.
"I... I wasn't taken advantage of," she stammered, though her voice lacked conviction.
Donny opened his mouth for another jab, but caught Terrence's warning look. He zipped his lips with a mock gesture.
"Just kidding, Bianca, don't take it to heart," he said, waving them over. "Let's eat. Breakfast is still hot."
With Donny there, Bianca ate quietly, her movements measured. More than anything, it was his earlier teasing that kept her from meeting his eyes.
She kept her head down, finishing her toast to the last crumb.
After breakfast, Bianca insisted on going back to school for her classes. Terrence, unable to sway her, drove her himself.
At the school gates, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his fingertips grazing her cheek in a way that sent a faint shiver through her.
Her ears tinged pink. She nodded lightly, watching his car pull away before turning toward the campus.
She had barely reached the tree-lined path leading to the main building when she spotted a small group of girls huddled together, whispering.
The girls themselves weren't important. The one in the middle was—Melissa.
Bianca's brows knit.
After everything that had happened, she hadn't expected anyone to still side with Melissa.
Melissa was dressed to impress today—designer dress, flawless makeup, hair styled to perfection.
The moment Melissa's eyes met hers, panic flickered across her face. She shifted sideways, quickening her pace and pulling the others with her, not daring to look back.
Bianca's brows lowered. A ripple of unease stirred in her chest. She set her jaw, about to follow, when someone stepped into her path.
She froze.
It wasn't Melissa. It wasn't anyone she had expected.
It was Alaric—the Sharp family's simple-minded son.
"Bianca..." His voice was hesitant, eyes darting with uncertainty. He swallowed hard, lifting a hand as if to tug at her sleeve, but she sidestepped neatly.
Her grip on her books tightened, tendons standing out along her hand. Her gaze swept the area.
No one else was around.
How had he found her here? There was no way he had come on his own.
Someone had sent him.
Faces flickered through her mind, but none fit. The Sharp family had already been warned by Terrence—they wouldn't dare act openly. So who was it?
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was cool, edged with wariness.
She pitied Alaric, in a way. But in her last life, she had nearly been hurt because of him. Pity didn't erase distrust.
Alaric's lips pushed into a pout. He wasn't a child, and the expression sat awkwardly on his otherwise fine-boned face.
"I... I like you. So I came to find you. Don't you like me?" His voice dipped with disappointment, his head lowering.
"No," Bianca said flatly.
Alaric's head snapped up, hurt flickering in his eyes. He took a step forward, reaching toward her.
She recoiled, whatever sympathy she had evaporating. "Stay away from me." Her brows drew together, her tone sharp and cold. "Don't make me repeat myself."
"Bianca..." His voice was a soft murmur, disbelief still clouding his gaze. "Why... why do you hate me?"
"If you know I hate you, then keep your distance." She exhaled slowly, unwilling to be dragged into a pointless exchange.
She moved to step around him, but his arm lifted, blocking her. His eyes locked on hers, stubborn.
"You... you promised... you'd teach me."
There was persistence there, and hurt, and something that might have been pleading.
But what did that matter to her?
Her gaze skimmed over those seemingly innocent eyes.
Those eyes had fooled her once.
Alaric's naivety wasn't malicious, but it made him malleable—too easy for others to twist into whatever shape they wanted.
And when someone used that innocence to do harm... was he truly blameless?
She didn't care to untangle the moral knots. She simply didn't want him near her.
A slow smile curved her lips. She stepped back, studying him.
He was handsome, pale-skinned, with eyes that didn't match the rest of him—too clear, too unguarded. The contrast was jarring.
Odette had sheltered Alaric so completely. Was that kindness... or a mistake?
Because someone like him could be manipulated just as easily as he could be protected.
And if that was true... he could just as easily become her pawn to reach whoever was pulling his strings.
"Who told you to find me?"
Alaric's shoulders hunched as he took a half-step back, gaze skittering away.
"I... I can't say. Bianca, I'm not allowed to tell you."
"You claim you like me, but you won't answer something that simple?"
"No... it's not that. They told me not to say. It's not because I don't want to."
He was taller than her by half a head, but his neck was bent, his posture shrinking, almost comical.
"Do you like them more than you like me?" Bianca pressed, closing the distance again.