A Game Of Chess With Chapter 111: Do You Want To Talk Or Not?

Chapter 111: Do You Want To Talk Or Not?

The young woman appeared frightened by his sudden tone and the awful glint in his eyes.

"M-monsieur..."

Valentine got off the bed and grabbed his clothing. He stord out of the room and slamd the door shut.

"Pay the receptionist," he said to Adam.

Adam could glimpse the furious look on his face, but he did not have the luxury to ask what had happened. He hurried off to pay the receptionist.

Valentine stord through the hallway while slipping his arms into his shirt. He rapidly blinked his eyes in nervousness, and before he knew it, he accidentally bumped into soone, hitting his forehead against the person’s chest.

"Jesus, can you fucking look where you are go—" At the sight of the person he had bumped into, the rest of his words vanished.

"Valentine!" The person was Olive.

Valentine furiously flickered his eyes. "O-olive."

Unlike his usual hairstyle, Olive let his hair down this ti around, letting it fall almost to his shoulder. His eyes were lazily hanging low, showing that he had taken quite a few drinks. The few buttons on his shirt were left unbuttoned as well.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. It was surprising to see Valentine there.

Valentine darted his gaze around and, unwilling to answer, he walked past Olive to leave, but Olive grabbed his hand, stopping him.

"You have not answered , Valentine," Olive said.

Valentine’s expression beca even more ugly. "It’s none of your business. Take your hand off ."

But what escaped from Olive was a burst of soft, hearty laughter. "You are very funny, Valentine."

He turned around to stare at him. "You sound so different, pfft. It’s as if I am looking at a different person."

"Now, co with ." He began to pull Valentine along with him, but Adam, who had returned back from his task, gripped Olive’s wrist.

"Let him go!" he ordered.

Olive looked at him. "Who are you?" He was not budging.

Valentine pinched between his brows. "He’s my butler."

Then he glanced at Adam, saying, "Adam, please let go of his hand."

"But your Highness—"

"He is my friend, Adam. It’s fine." Valentine cut him off, quite tired of explaining.

Adam glared at Olive. He looked infuriated. With gritted teeth, he took his hand off Olive.

Olive was pretty unbothered by him. He yanked Valentine along with him and pulled him into the room he had rented out in the brothel.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, he asked, "What are you doing here? Should you even be here?"

"What do you an?" Valentine still looked pretty angry.

Olive lifted his brow.

"Okay, before I ask any further questions, I would like to know who pissed you off this bad. It feels so weird seeing you without your jovial manner but with this serious character."

Valentine stared at him and abruptly turned around to sit down on the wooden chair in the room. He buried his face in his palms, unsure of what to say.

Olive frowned. Now he is more than sure that sothing had happened. First of all, why would he even be at a brothel? I an, what about his trauma? Or did he co to the brothel for a different reason?

He walked over and sat down on the chair opposite Valentine. "Do you want to talk or not?"

Valentine lifted his head to look at him.

"You would not understand."

"Oh...really?" Olive asked. "Well, then, I see no reason to waste my ti on you any longer. You can take your leave, I have a business to get back to."

He stood up from his seat to leave, but Valentine stood up as well, saying, "Hey, why are you leaving?"

Olive glanced at him. "Because I have nothing to do here."

"Listen, if I asked you what the problem was, it was because I was ready to understand. You, telling

that I wouldn’t understand in response, how do you expect

to react to that? To force you to speak or what?" he questioned.

Valentine frantically blinks his eyes. He lowered his head and let out a soft breath.

"Je suis désolé," he apologized.

Olive did not say a word. He simply sat back in the chair and crossed his arms.

"Now will you tell

what’s wrong or not?"

Valentine pinched between his brows and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. "It’s nothing much. I just ca here hoping to try a little bit and get over my trauma, but it almost ended the sa way. I got angry and nearly hurt the poor young lady."

"Oh..." Olive appeared quite surprised.

He asked, "Why would you decide to do that, though? I an, didn’t you say you wanted to be a bachelor?"

"Not anymore." Valentine groaned in annoyance. "This world is too cruel to be alone. I want to fall in love with soone soday too. I an, if my brother, who is not even capable of loving soone, can get a wife, why not ? Who would want to be alone? I just...I just would like to fall in love and for soone to fall in love with

as well."

"But... with this foolery going on with , it does not seem possible. I may fall in love, but would I be able to get intimate with her? Won’t she flee from

with ti?"

Olive was gazing at him with a tilted head. "Does love really matter, Valentine?"

"What do you an?" Valentine glanced at him.

"Hmm..." Olive exhaled. "Love isn’t all that fun, actually. I have fallen in love before, and it was not a good experience."

"I thought that love would be softer, sweeter, and lovely, but I found out with the first and only woman I had ever fallen in love with that those thoughts were just silly happy delusions."

Valentine scrunched his brows at him. "I am not understanding what you an."

Olive softly smiled.

"Valentine, falling in love with soone is sothing much more violent, like having your flesh ripped apart. Love is not sothing easy, not when you feel it or when you hold it in the palms of your hands."