Sigh...
Dein twisted his arm behind the chair back and let out a long sigh toward the ceiling. His eyes aimlessly wandered through the air, searching for nothing in particular. How had it co to this? He thought about the reasons, but in the end, the conclusion was always the sa.
Why did I even get involved in soone else’s business...
If only he hadn’t shown a bit of sympathy back then, if he hadn’t gone to the hospital with Sabrina, he would’ve dealt with the problem right when it started, and maybe the house wouldn’t have burned down, Darling wouldn’t have been in danger, and his lavish nightlife wouldn’t have been in such chaos.
But now, there was no point in regretting it. Inside the club, where loud music blasted from all directions, Dein slouched in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he spoke.
“Why do you always show up and ss everything up...”
His words ca out like a murmur, and Grayson, looking down at him, smiled.
“You really think I didn’t expect this from you?”
Dein silently rolled his eyes and then turned his gaze back to the ceiling.
He didn’t know how many tis this had happened. After getting a complete letdown that day, he set a new date, constantly checking if anyone was following him as he headed to a different club. But no matter how many tis he tried, Grayson always showed up, scaring off the person he had just hooked, then driving him ho while blasting the song "Boobs Boobs," and dropping him off at the motel.
This cycle continued over and over again. Go to the club, Grayson appears, the target runs away, the song plays, they get in the car, and go back to the motel. Club, Grayson, run, boobs, car, motel. Club, Grayson, run, boobs, car, motel...
Shit, enough already!
Dein felt like tearing his hair out. He was starting to believe the conspiracy ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) theories the fire station’s conspiracy theorist had often spouted: “The FBI is using 5G to monitor the public.” How else could this man show up every ti at the perfect mont?
Today, too, before he even had the chance to try anything, Grayson had appeared out of nowhere, and Dein had finally given up.
“How do you manage to follow around all day...”
Sigh, another deep exhale escaped him, and Grayson eagerly replied.
“It's the power of love, obviously.”
“Stop fucking around.”
Dein snapped back in the sa tired voice, lifting his head. Still slouched in his chair with only his head raised, he directed his unfocused gaze at Grayson and spoke.
“Can’t we just touch boobs and call it a day?”
At Dein’s last-ditch proposal, Grayson answered with a bright smile.
“Of course not. If we’re lovers, we can touch boobs, but why would I do sothing so ridiculous?”
Then, he deliberately pressed his finger against Dein’s large chest and, embarrassed, even blushed as he said:
“Moon landing.”
With a tone that almost seed to add a heart emoji at the end, Dein, no longer feeling like cursing or hitting him, could only stare at him in exhaustion.
This bastard is definitely making my intelligence drop.
Dein cursed irritably, then sat up and leaned forward. Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and tried several tis to light it. Three months, such an absurdly long ti. Three weeks would’ve been enough. No, three days. Three hours...
As he repeated his aningless regrets, he inhaled the smoke roughly, exhaled it with a sharp exhale, and muttered:
“What's wrong with you?”
At Dein’s annoyed question, Grayson tilted his head in confusion.
“What do you an, what’s wrong? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you think it’s strange to follow around like this? Even if we’re lovers, we should still have our own privacy, right? But chasing after all the ti, doesn’t that make any sense?”
Finally, after rapidly spilling his frustration, Grayson was silent for the first ti. Had he finally realized sothing? Dein felt a flicker of hope, but of course, he was wrong. Grayson’s lips slowly curled upward, and his long eyes narrowed. To the startled Dein, he spoke:
“I knew it wouldn’t be easy.”
Surprisingly calm, Grayson’s deanor left Dein confused. Was that bitter expression learned, or was it genuine? Of course, Dein couldn’t tell. Eventually, he let out another long sigh, pretending to expel the smoke.
Is this karma?
Looking back on his life, the situation was making Dein’s head spin. Every ti soone approached him with sincere feelings, he had coldly pushed them away. Sotis he heard resentnt, sotis he received curses close to damnation, but he had ignored them all. Was this the price he was paying now?
Rubbing his face with one hand, he finally spoke.
“...Alright.”
With a resigned voice, he continued:
“I won’t co to the club for a while. Is that good enough?”
“Really?”
Grayson, in contrast to before, asked with an eager voice. Dein felt awkward, but there was no other choice. How could he catch a sparrow while a living scarecrow waved its arms beside him? He only needed to endure for three months. After that, he would be free.
“I’ll take you.”
Grayson extended his hand, as if it were obvious. He was asking for the car keys. Even though he hadn’t had ti to drink today, Dein absentmindedly dug into his pants pocket, took out the car keys, and handed them over. He realized his mistake too late, but by then, the keys were already in Grayson’s hands. Eventually, he was left with no choice but to leave the club, just like every other ti, and sit in the passenger seat. And, once again, he headed to the motel while listening to Grayson’s “Boobs Boobs” song.
“Don’t you think you’re getting tired of this motel life?”
After parking the car and handing over the keys, Grayson asked. Instead of answering, Dein snatched the keys and turned around. Was the next step him coming to his house?
No chance in hell.
Dein didn’t reply and entered the building. As usual, Grayson, left alone, waited for Dein to appear again on the second floor. Sure enough, after a short while, Dein appeared and walked down the hallway, passing several rooms before stopping in front of his own. After a brief mont, once Dein had entered his room, Grayson finally turned and took out his phone.
As usual, while waiting for the car, he shoved both hands into his pockets and began to whistle. Standing alone in the cool night breeze in the spacious parking lot, Grayson leisurely wandered around aimlessly, walking slowly, with no particular purpose. Step by step, he walked, clearly unable to contain his impatience due to the long wait.
Slowly, deliberately loosening his steps, a shadow seed to follow him.
And then.
Thud!
Soone hit him on the back. The loud impact echoed through the quiet parking lot, followed by the sound of a man’s labored breathing. Grayson spun around, his body falling forward, and kicked out his leg toward the man.
“Ugh!”
The man, hit squarely on the head, staggered back, and the baseball bat he had swung clattered uselessly to the ground, right into Grayson’s hand.
“Ah.”
Grayson grinned, lifting his lips. Shadows ominously lood over his face in the dim light.
“Now it’s self-defense.”
Then, without hesitation, he began swinging the baseball bat rcilessly at the man.
“Miller! What happened? What’s that wound?”
As Grayson took off his shirt, Ezra gasped, noticing the large, dark bruise on his back. The others were just as shocked. All eyes turned to Grayson as he casually responded.
“I ran into a thief. He hit with a baseball bat.”
His nonchalant explanation left everyone stunned, their eyes wide.
“A thief? Where?”
“How did you run into a thief?”
The questions that followed were ones everyone had in common. Money buys safety. Grayson Miller, the second heir to the wealthiest family, probably lived in a mansion with tight security. His clothes, his car, and even the restaurants he frequented were top-notch, places ordinary people could never even approach. So how the hell did he run into a thief wielding a baseball bat?
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