Sherina's POV
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And once again, the family gathered in the luxurious dining hall for breakfast. Leon was already at the table—looking perfectly composed, as if the events of last night had never touched him.
I let out a quiet sigh and lifted my cup, taking a slow sip of tea.
Last night had been... something. Two tall men, both drunk, yet in entirely different ways—Landon, loud and endlessly talkative, while Leon simply drifted into drowsiness.
Mr. Kang had driven Leon and me back to the house, while Landon was escorted separately by the family butler.
The ride had been silent, tense in its own way. Leon sat beside me, arms folded, eyes closed, his head tilting slightly as if the weight of sleep was pulling him under. I realized that must be how he handled alcohol—not with slurred words or staggering steps, but with quiet surrender to exhaustion.
There was something unexpectedly... endearing about it. Watching a man like him—usually so sharp and unshakable—be subdued by liquor felt almost like glimpsing a side of him no one else got to see.
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"Sherina, I heard you received a scholarship from the most prestigious university in Edenia, right? Congratulations!" Lilliana's voice rang with genuine cheer, her pearl earrings swaying as she leaned forward.
"Oh my! You mean Winston University? Congratulations, Sherina!" Delaila applauded lightly, her soft hands coming together in a graceful clap.
"Thank you," I replied, lips curving into a polite smile. My eyes, however, couldn't resist drifting toward Leon. He was seated a few chairs away, holding his teacup with elegant ease, dark lashes lowered as he took a slow sip.
"What are you studying?" Donna asked from across the table, her tone warm and inviting.
"Uh... a Major in Psychology," I answered, my voice soft but clear.
"Oh my! That's a wonderful profession. If you need help with anything, don't hesitate to reach out to us," Lilliana said, her eyes twinkling.
Across the table, I cant help but observe the elderly couple exchanged glances—a fleeting moment that carried years of shared understanding.
"Sherina, we'd like to know... how is Delliana on the island? Does she get bullied? Is she eating properly?" The concern in Grandma Delaila's voice was tinged with something deeper, something unspoken.
I hesitated for a heartbeat before smiling reassuringly.
"She's full of energy and enjoys her life there. She's actually quite popular at school on the island."
"Does she... now have a lover?" Grandma Delaila asked, her tone careful, almost hesitant.
"Delly isn't interested in dating for now, Grandma," I replied gently.
"I see..." The elder woman's lips curved faintly, though her eyes seemed to search for more. She took a slow sip of her tea, the quiet clink of porcelain echoing softly in the high-ceilinged room.
"I wonder when she'll come back. Has she said anything about it?" Grandpa Ding Xiang asked, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.
"She hasn't, Grandpa. And I think... she doesn't want to return just yet. I don't know her reasons," I said, My fingers absently tracing the rim of my cup.
"She's at the perfect age to get married," Donna remarked, her tone light but her words weighted. "She needs to come back."
The air thickened, as if an invisible thread had been pulled taut across the table. The conversation hung heavy, pressing down like a storm that had yet to break.
"Enough. Just let her be," Leon's voice cut through the tension, deep and edged with steel. He exhaled, long and deliberate, before adding in Italian,
"Delliana ha già sopportato abbastanza... non illuderti che farà ritorno."
("Delliana has already endured enough... don't fool yourself into thinking she'll come back.")
His chair scraped lightly against the marble floor as he rose, his tall frame casting a fleeting shadow over the table before he strode out without looking back.
Grandpa Ding Xiang sighed heavily, the sound carrying both resignation and fatigue. "Forgive his manners," he said at last.
Grandma Delaila turned to me with a kind, almost motherly smile. "We're grateful you took care of our Delliana while she's been away from us."
I returned the smile, though my mind was miles away from the elegant breakfast spread
'What had happened between Delly and her family that made her want to stay away?'
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The conversation had fallen into a lull, the soft clink of cutlery against porcelain the only sound in the grand dining hall. Sunlight spilled across the tablecloth, catching the gleam of polished silverware.
"Anyways," Liliana began brightly, her voice breaking through the quiet, "tomorrow will be sunny. Would you all like to go out on the ocean?"
I blinked, brows lifting slightly. "Ocean?" I repeated, almost questioning the thought.
'Oh, yes I remember, There's one right behind the villa. I did saw it while walking around yesterday—it's breathtaking. Calm… endless.' I whispered to myself.
Landon took a deliberate sip of tea, his fingers curled loosely around the delicate porcelain cup. He set it down with a quiet click and released a sigh. "I have business to deal with tomorrow."
Across the table, the elderly woman nodded with a calm, composed grace. "Ding Xiang and I will be away tomorrow as well."
Aunt Donna turned her gaze towards me. "What about Leon and Sherina?"
I offered a faint smile, fingers brushing the rim of my teacup. "I didn't bring any swimming clothes."
Liliana propped her chin into her palms, her elbows pressing into the tablecloth, eyes glimmering with some unspoken plan. "Don't worry about that," she said with a grin that almost dared me to resist.
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After breakfast, she led me out to the balcony garden. The air was crisp with the mingled scents of roses and the faint tang of sea salt drifting from somewhere beyond the villa grounds. Sunlight dappled across the marble flooring through the leafy shade overhead.
Leon sat in the center, framed by the opulence of a cream-colored patio set, Mr. Kang standing silently behind him. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, one hand on his laptop, the other holding a phone to his ear. His low voice carried hints of authority, the kind that made people listen without argument.
I was ready to walk past without a word when Liliana suddenly broke into a light run toward him, her steps quick and eager. Their voices blended into the soft hum of the garden, too low for me to catch at first. It wasn't until I drifted closer, that their words began to reach me.
"It's your vacation," Lilliana said with a teasing lilt in her voice, "yet here you are, buried in work. How do you even call this a break?"
Leon's gaze shifted toward me, and in that fleeting glance, it felt as if the rest of the garden fell silent. He ended his call with an effortless motion, set his phone down, and exhaled through his nose—a controlled release of breath. "Fine." He stretched, the movement unhurried, then passed his phone to Mr. Kang in exchange for a set of car keys that caught the sunlight like a blade's edge.
"Yay! Thank you, Leon." Liliana's smile was triumphant as she turned back to me. "You can go with Leon—he'll help you pick out some clothes in the town's market"
I hesitated. "Isn't that too much trouble for him?"
"But he's already agreed." Liliana waved a hand as if brushing the objection away.
My lips curved faintly, eyes flicking toward Leon. "Okay… let me just get my bag."
"You won't need it," Leon said without looking at her. His voice was calm, smooth, but carried an edge that made her wonder if there was meaning tucked behind the words. He rose from his seat in one fluid motion and headed toward the door. "Let's go."
'What does that even mean?'
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Moments later, I was in the passenger seat of his sleek, dark car, the faint leather scent wrapping around me like a quiet claim. The hum of the engine filled the spaces between me and Leon, and the early afternoon light cast his profile in sharp lines—jaw set, eyes fixed on the road.
I caught my reflection in the side mirror: eyes soft but searching, lips pressed together in an expression I couldn't quite name.
'We're going to the shopping center,' I murmured under my breath, 'Liliana asked Leon to help me buy swimming clothes for tomorrow. I still can't believe he agreed.'
The ride carried a kind of silence that didn't feel empty, only heavy. I searched for something to break it. "How's work?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above the hum of the tires on the asphalt.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then—
"Last night…" His voice was low, measured, a pause hanging between his words like a suspended breath. "What I said was true."
My head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing in confusion. He glanced at me for only a second before fixing his gaze back on the road.
'What did he say? Did he say something last night? '
'My memory scrambled through the hazy fragments of yesterday, but no matter how I searched, I couldn't recall his words.'
"I was… waiting for your answer."
My breath caught. I couldn't bring myself to admit that I hadn't heard a single thing he'd said.
I'd assumed he was drunk last night, yet now, his calm, unwavering tone made it clear he remembered everything perfectly.
'Don't tell me… I was the drunk one last night and not him.'
The thought made my brows knit together. 'No, that's impossible. I remember exactly what happened. So… what is he even talking about?'
"I didn't think you were serious." It was the only thing I could say that wouldn't betray my ignorance. He was drunk last night, so of course I wouldn't have taken his words seriously whatever it was. At the time, any sentence from his lips could have been nothing more than the loose ramblings of intoxication, blurred and weightless in meaning. And yet… his reaction today—clear-eyed, unwavering—feels like a breadcrumb leading me back to something I didn't catch. Whatever he said last night, I may not have heard it, but now I can feel the weight of it lingering in the air between us.
But before I could exhale, Leon's foot pressed hard on the brake, jolting the car to a halt. The sudden stillness rang in my ears. Slowly, he turned his head toward me, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
"Do you think I joke about things like that?"
I stared back, trapped in his intensity, my lips parting but no words escaping. The air inside the car grew heavy, stretched taut between us, each second dragging longer than the last.
Then, the faintest curve touched his lips. "Well, It doesn't matter. I like you is enough."
Heat rushed to my cheeks, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
'Is this man for real? Did he just confess to me last night? And the worst part… I didn't even hear it?'
But it didn't make sense—we'd only known each other for three days. Why would he say something like that? Especially when I was older than him… and almost like a sister to his sister, Delly.
I didn't even notice when he leaned closer, his hand brushing against mine as he reached for the seatbelt across my chest. With a smooth click, he unfastened it. "We're here."
I stepped out, my thoughts still tangled, and followed him into an upscale boutique, the scent of polished wood and soft perfume filling the air. He spoke briefly with the manager, his demeanor calm and unaffected, as though our conversation moments ago hadn't even happened.
"This way, please," a neatly dressed attendant said, guiding me toward the dressing rooms. I glanced over my shoulder—Leon stood there with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me, unreadable.
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As I stepped into the dressing room, the soft click of the door behind me seemed to seal me in with my own thoughts. I froze for a moment, my hands resting against the cool wood of the vanity, and let the weight of everything settle.
'Leon confessed last night… and I didn't even hear a single word of it.'
But then again—did he really say it out loud, or was it only in his mind? No… judging by the way he looked at me in the car, the certainty in his tone, he remembers every detail.
These past few days with him have been like standing in the eye of a storm—calm on the outside, chaos swirling beneath. Since meeting Leon, my once steady composure has been slipping through my fingers. I can't think straight. I can't calculate my moves the way I always do.
My rhythm, my control—gone, scattered in the wake of his presence.
I've always been a woman who moves with precision, every step measured, every word intentional. The moment I entered Delly's world, I knew exactly how I wanted to play my part.
But Leon…
Leon is different. He is a puzzle with missing pieces, a shadow I can't pin down.
Mysterious.
Unreadable.
Utterly unpredictable.
And worst of all—around him, my carefully crafted facade keeps slipping, as if he can see right through it.