*Bang*
I chuckled when a bullet brushed past my cheek, and blood trickled from the wound it left behind.
"..."
I simply smiled at him despite the move he made.
The slight frown deepened a little at how I kept taunting him to ask me for my reason in proposing to him.
"..."
Another stare off, but this time, he kept his gun pointed at me.
It was obviously a warning that if I don't speak, the next bullet would be in my head.
But I knew better.
Kieran Sinclair does not give warnings.
He ends things as fast as saying no.
Just as the tension in the room rose, the door swung open.
"Kie-"
The man who stepped in was Kieran Sinclair's right-hand man, Michael Sinclair. He was also Kieran's cousin.
He is the one I think who has a telepathic connection with Kieran. With just a glance or gesture, he already knows what Kieran wants him to do.
Michael frowned upon seeing me.
"Michael Sinclair," I greeted.
"You're late."
His frown deepened.
"The gunshot went off ten seconds ago. You came only now?" I continued.
Michael turned to Kieran, who did not budge from his position, the gun still pointing at me.
"Why are you here?"
He obviously knows who I am and did not ask the stupid question of how I got here.
He really is Kieran's right-hand man.
"I am proposing to him," I replied, pointing at Kieran.
The frown disappeared, and a blank look followed.
He turned to Kieran, as if to confirm he'd heard right.
But Kieran kept his position, not giving him any attention.
I watched Michael turn from Kieran to me and back at Kieran.
He looked genuinely lost.
But I knew that was not confusion.
Instead, it was disbelief.
Disbelief that I was still alive.
I turned back to Kieran.
"..."
"..."
After a long, heavy silence, Michael stepped aside while Kieran and I stared at each other once again.
Until...
"Why?"
I smiled when he finally asked the question. His curiosity must have been greatly piqued for him to spare me a question.
Even Michael seemed genuinely shocked, Kieran Sinclair never asks questions.
And his voice, deep, magnetic, sharp.
It felt dangerous, but one would wish to listen more.
Who would have thought that this man would have such a voice?
Just as I opened my lips, Kieran's face darkened. He must have thought of a certain reason.
"Before you finish me off with the reason you came up with. I'd tell you now, I don't care about that. I don't care about the riches of the Kingsley Family."
He loosened his grip on the gun.
I can explain now since he already asked me, and I have heard his voice.
"But they want it so I'll keep it..."
He continued staring at me. I smiled and stood up, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window, and watched the city spread beneath us.
"Don't you think this place is already too boring?" I asked softly.
I looked back at him, "I can give you an entertainment like no other."
He said nothing. Just stared.
I chuckled and looked back outside the window.
"I plan to run amok. To turn this country upside down. Maybe even the world."
I looked back at him, raising my hand like I was holding a wine glass.
"I plan on enjoying blood with the finest glass."
When I looked into his eyes, there was something different in his gaze.
Interest. Maybe danger.
"I don't care about the money," I repeated.
"But I won't let them have a single cent. I'll use every drop of it to wreak havoc…"
A cold smile tugged at my lips.
"…and let blood rain."
He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.
"Oh," he started.
"Interesting."
I walked back and stood across him.
"Of course, I am not proposing just with these words. Instead, I'd let you have a taste in a few days. You can wait for it, and then we can get married."
His cold, indifferent gaze returned as he just looked back at me.
"Oh, that's right, here..."
I took a small cupcake out of my jacket pocket and placed it on his table. The bright blue icing was in complete contrast to his black table.
Looking around, his whole office was almost filled with nothing but black, if not for the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Kieran gave it a fleeting glance before looking back at me, the dangerous glint in his eyes returned.
His hand slightly tightened its grip on the gun.
I smiled, not bothered by the fact that this time, I may lose my head.
Instead, I cheerfully said, "Happy birthday."
After that, I turned and left.
I was obviously teasing him. The entire country knew that Kieran Sinclair did not care about birthdays.
Not his.
Not anyone's.
...
Michael looked at the closed door before looking back at Kieran.
"She..."
He trailed off.
Kieran glanced at the bulletproof glass window that still bore the mark of his shot, then at the cupcake.
He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes.
"I'll have maintenance repair the window tomorrow morning," Michael said calmly.
He then picked up the cupcake, stared at it for a second, and then tossed it into the trash.
...
I stretched as I stepped out of the building.
That's when I felt my stomach rumble.
I forgot that I planned on grabbing lunch after stepping out.
'You have a weak stomach now after neglecting your health with your studies. You have to always eat on time.'
My mom always reminded me about my health when I left to further my studies abroad.
Because I was concentrating on what I was doing, I'd end up forgetting the time that I ended up having a weak stomach.
Thinking about it, I have not eaten properly for the past three days.
"This would be bad," I murmured.
"Maybe I should stop by the hospital. A dying stomach won't do me any favors."