Chapter 118: Am I?

Blake zipped up his backpack and placed it on the bed beside him.

Finally, an entire week had passed.

Honestly, it felt much longer.

The room he stayed in had become unbearably boring after the first few days. At first, Blake had appreciated the peace and quiet, especially after everything that had happened.

But after being trapped inside the villa for seven consecutive days, even he was beginning to feel restless.

Still, at least there was one upside: his bruises had almost all disappeared.

Blake walked toward the mirror and tilted his head slightly.

The ones covering parts of his body had faded into a faint yellow. Most of them were barely noticeable anymore.

More importantly, his face looked completely normal again.

Not a trace remained.

’That pomade really did miracles, heh, I’ll take it home with me.’

Last time, when he had gotten injured, the bruises lasted for much longer.

This time it was a week, rich people medicine was terrifying.

Blake let out a small whistle before grabbing his backpack again.

And now, he could finally go back.

More specifically, he could finally see Myles without looking like he had lost a fistfight against a truck.

They hadn’t video called even once this week, so today he would see his face for the first time in a week.

Myles had asked several times to see his face, and he had simply found excuses every single time.

The internet was bad.

He was sleepy.

He had a headache.

The lighting sucked.

Anything worked.

But now, that problem was finally gone.

’Heh, can’t wait!’

Knock knock.

Blake looked toward the door.

’Hm? The car is already here?’

It felt a little earlier than expected.

Still, he walked over and opened the door, only to find a butler standing outside.

The older man immediately bowed.

"Young master."

"Good morning. What is it?"

"The Madam is requesting your presence immediately."

Blake blinked.

’Immediately? Now? But why?’

Especially after an entire week of complete silence.

Nobody had bothered him, called him downstairs or tried speaking with him.

In fact, everyone had seemed perfectly happy pretending he didn’t exist.

So why now?

Blake raised an eyebrow.

"I understand."

The butler nodded.

"I shall inform Madam."

"I’ll be there soon."

The butler left.

Meanwhile, Blake remained standing in the doorway for a moment.

His first instinct was that something was wrong.

His second instinct was to leave before finding out.

Honestly, the second option sounded much better.

Still, the car hadn’t arrived yet, and Blake wasn’t particularly interested in creating more trouble than necessary.

Even if they wanted to throw him into a mental institution, well, he would be able to make a run for it.

’Jeez, I’m thinking too lowly of them... pretty sure they won’t do that, at least for now.’

He wasn’t exactly convinced the conversation would be peaceful but, even if that were the case, he’d keep his mouth shut.

’Just a little longer, then I’ll be free!’

Blake glanced down at himself... he had casual clothes.

He had literally just finished packing.

’Ah, who cares, it’ll just be a short talk!’

So he simply slung the backpack over one shoulder and headed downstairs.

The butler was waiting near the staircase.

"Where did she want to see me?"

"The dining room, Young Master."

’The dining room?’

Blake raised an eyebrow.

’She doesn’t want to have lunch together, right?’

The idea sounded ridiculous, because why now?

’Maybe she happened to be eating and didn’t feel like getting up...?’

Shrugging the thought away, Blake continued walking.

A minute later, he arrived at the dining room, and immediately stopped.

Ba-dump.

"...Hm?"

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

That wasn’t Arabella.

Blake looked around the room, putting a hand over his racing heart.

No, definitely not.

Instead, seated comfortably at the table was a woman he had never seen before.

’Who is she?’

The woman continued eating elegantly, completely ignoring his existence.

Blake scratched the back of his head.

Did he mistake the room?

Maybe he had entered the wrong dining room somehow, after all, this villa was large enough for that to happen.

"..."

After another awkward second, Blake gulped as he slowly turned around.

’Might as well leave.’

Clearly there had been some misunderstanding.

That had to be it.

But why was his body reacting like this?

Just as he reached the doorway...

"Where exactly do you think you’re going?"

A woman’s voice rang out behind him.

Blake stopped.

"And honestly," she continued, "how did you manage to become even more unrefined than before?"

Blake froze, his whole body tingling.

’Okay, they definitely knew each other.’

He forced himself to turn his head, looking her up and down.

She was undoubtedly beautiful.

Blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

Perfect posture.

Elegant clothing.

Everything about her practically screamed refinement.

Honestly, she looked like she belonged in one of those luxury magazine advertisements.

Blake pointed toward himself.

"Were you the one who called for me?"

The woman frowned.

"You shouldn’t behave this way."

"..."

"Especially when you’re the one intruding."

Blake almost facepalmed, already cold sweating.

Seriously, he was not in the mood for this today.

But then, he remembered what it would feel like to see Myles again and, instantly, his heart started beating more normally.

He had somewhere to be, a much better place with much better company.

"I see."

The woman narrowed her eyes.

Blake simply nodded.

"Well, in that case, I have to go back now."

"..."

"It was a pleasure meeting you."

The woman stared.

He nodded politely, then turned around again, and this time, he actually intended to leave.

Unfortunately, the moment his hand reached the handle, the door opened.

Blake immediately stepped back, and found himself staring at Alexander, alongside Arabella.

The moment they saw him standing there, both frowned.

Alexander looked especially displeased.

His stepmother spoke first.

"Why are you here?"

Blake opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the blonde woman spoke.

"I see my dear nephew is here!" She said smiling, then, she looked at Blake, not that pleased now, "Am I not allowed to summon him? He’s my nephew’s brother, after all."

Blake’s brain immediately paused, then, a strong headache hit him.

A second later, his stepmother blinked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sister-in-law?"

The blonde woman smiled, his half-brother also looked surprised.

"Aunt Camelle, you’re back?"

Arabella’s gaze moved between her and Blake.

"Why were you with him?"

He decided this was his chance to escape.

"Excuse me, I’m passing through..."

He immediately turned around, unfortunately, a hand stopped him.

Blake looked sideways.

It was Alexander, of course, who then lowered his voice.

"It would be rude to leave."

He slowly looked directly at him.

The eye contact lasted barely a second, yet Alexander visibly tensed.

Blake wasn’t interested in arguing, especially in this condition.

So after a moment, he walked over and sat down.

His backpack landed beside the chair.

She sat down, along with Alexander, the atmosphere gradually settling.

Then, Arabella smiled toward her.

"How was your business trip?"

Camille laughed lightly.

"It went perfectly."

"That’s good."

"Though I do regret missing Lippe’s birthday party."

Her expression softened.

"However, I brought her several exclusive gifts."

His stepmother immediately brightened.

"Oh?"

Camille laughed.

"I think she’ll love them."

The conversation naturally continued, as servants entered shortly afterward.

Food was served.

Blake stared at the plate in front of him. At least that was something he could focus on instead of talking.

So he started eating.

Meanwhile, the other three continued their conversation about business, travels, parties, relatives...

Topics Blake knew absolutely nothing about, which was perfectly fine.

Then, as casually as discussing the weather, his stepmother asked:

"By the way."

Camille looked up.

"Why did you want to see Blake today?"

"I simply find it disgusting."

The room quieted slightly.

Camille looked directly at him.

"Seeing him here as though he has the right."

Blake stared at his plate.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

’Come on, I don’t care about it all, heart, stop.’

Arabella didn’t deny it either, her expression remaining calm, almost neutral.

The conversation moved on, afew minutes passing.

He finished chewing before reaching toward the glass bottle of water nearby, pouring some into his glass.

Camille’s expression immediately darkened.

"How interesting."

Blake paused as she laughed.

"You’ve certainly grown."

’Um...’

"The way you’re acting."

She glanced toward the bottle.

"As if you own anything."

Blake froze... at this point, maybe he should have simply stayed still.

But he was thirsty.

Basic human resources should be allowed, right?

He silently retracted his hand as Camille scoffed.

"You’re an eyesore."

He stared at his plate again.

’Okay... eh, are such insults needed though?’

A small sigh escaped him, it was very light and quiet, not intended to provoke anyone.

However, her expression immediately sharpened.

"A sigh?"

Blake looked up as her voice rose.

"You’re the son of a slut."

The room became silent.

"And yet you’re comfortable enough to sit here."

Her frustration became increasingly obvious.

"Complaining, too?"

Honestly, this woman seemed significantly more upset than he was.

A fork touched the plate.

Alexander had put it down.

"Enough."

Camille turned.

His voice remained calm.

"Please calm down."

The woman frowned as he continued.

"Maintain some decorum."

"..."

"There’s no reason to become angry at someone like him."

Blake raised an eyebrow.

’Wait a second... that is basically an indirect insult! Would it kill them to just put an end to nonsense without insulting me...’

Besides, he wasn’t exactly qualified to speak either.

Camille exhaled deeply, then immediately softened as she reached over and took Alexander’s hand.

"I’m sorry."

Her voice became sweet as she gently patted his hand.

He looked at her, smiling.

Then she turned toward Blake again and, of course, the softness vanished.

"You know."

Her eyes narrowed.

Ba-dump.

"This suffering wouldn’t exist."

Ba-dump.

"If it weren’t for you."

Her voice hardened.

"And that slut mother of yours."

Blake stared, then stared a little longer.

He simply stood up.

Everyone looked at him as he picked up his backpack.

His stepmother frowned.

"Where are you going?"

Blake slung the bag over his shoulder.

"And are these the manners you should have?"

He looked at her, then at Camille, then at Alexander.

And finally sighed.

"Be for real."

The room became silent as he continued calmly.

"None of you wanted me here. So what’s the point of this show?"

He adjusted the backpack.

"Why should I waste my time sitting here getting insulted for absolutely no reason?"

His voice remained calm.

"Because, of course, my mother isn’t a reason to insult me."

Then he looked directly at his stepmother.

"Last dinner, I didn’t ask for much."

She frowned slightly.

"I only asked everyone to remain civil, remember?"

"..."

"Was that really so difficult?"

Nobody answered.

Blake nodded once, as if he had already expected that, then he turned around.

"Next time, don’t worry."

He began walking toward the door.

"I won’t show my face no matter what."

His hand reached the handle.

"Just continue sending money."

The door opened, and a moment later, it closed behind him.

The hallway was blissfully quiet.

Blake didn’t stop walking, not until he reached the front entrance.

And thankfully, the car was already outside, so he immediately climbed inside.

The moment the door closed, he let out another exhausted sigh, leaning back into the seat.

’What a bunch of crazy people...’

Then, he pulled out his phone.

There was a message notification from Myles.

Have you left?

Blake stared at the message and smiled, just like that.

The frustration from the dining room disappeared almost completely, a small chuckle escaping him.

For some reason, he could practically imagine Myles’ expression while typing it.