Chapter 144 - Radiated With Delight (1/2)

Then an ominous feeling hit her. Her eyes darted to the chatty little prince across from her who was trying to win her grandma's heart even when everyone in the room knew he didn't need to.

”Was it you behind that news, Maxen?” Olivia asked, holding her dessert spoon mid-air as she raised her question. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but the hint of accusation was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Heads snapped from Olivia's direction then to Maxen, then back to Olivia.

Maxen took the napkin on his l.a.p, wiping the corners of his mouth. His eyes, blue as a clear sky momentarily darkened like the Cerulean Sea, piercing at Olivia's narrowed hazel ones.

”If you'll excuse us. Olivia and I need to talk. Privately,” Maxen said, his eyes never left Olivia's.

King Alistair grunted his reply, while the rest pursed their lips into a thin line. It was Maxen's cue to stand up, rounding the long table to walk where Olivia was seated.

Like a true gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her, holding the small of her back as they walked out of the dining hall.

As everyone watched their retreating backs, Queen Isla motioned for a servant, whispering something in the servant's ear. Soon, a spread of different broadsheets on a tray were presented to the queen. She examined each front page, the one at the end raised her brows in surprise.

”Heol!” she gasped, her delicate hand flying to cover her agape mouth. Picking the broadsheet up, her head tilted to the side as she read the piece of news on the lower right side of the front page.

Meanwhile, Maxen and Olivia found themselves back in their bedroom. He almost slammed the door in anger at how she easily accused him.

”Can you enlighten me why I would do something that would cost people their jobs, Olivia?” he asked, gritting his teeth. He loomed over Olivia, casting a dark shadow on her, powerful to scare and make someone scramble, except her.

Olivia held her ground, crossing her arms over her c.h.e.s.t, chin jutting up in defiance. ”You did it once. I lost a client once because of your jealousy.”

”You lost a client, but that client didn't lose his livelihood.” He stepped closer, staring her down. His mouth darted to her lips—supple, red lips that he wanted to bite at the moment for spouting nonsense.

Moving his gaze back to her eyes to distract him from devouring her, Maxen recalled, ”That client harassed you. I saw everything the moment you both walked inside the restaurant. How his hand was way below where it should be. You tried to shake it off, but he still put his hand back. I heard with my own ears how uncomfortable you were that entire lunchtime. Was it wrong for me to throw him a punch when he was throwing dirty jokes on you? If I was not dining in the same restaurant, would you just endure him the whole time? All because of money?”

Olivia scoffed, biting the bottom of her lip. ”You didn't have to go physical. I can file charges after that meeting if he went overboard.”

”I was protecting you. I was protecting the woman that I love! And why are you waiting for him to go overboard! A slight touch is enough to walk away.”

”It's easy for you to say that because you're a guy, but not to me. Not to women. We have to stomach everything nasty to accomplish our goal. And just so you know, I can protect myself like how I did all these years.”

”Oh, you did? Then why are you still scared? Why do you still keep that knife under your pillow?”

”Because I am scared! I am always scared! I just live through those nightmares, so I can get a life the next day. And just because I am scared doesn't mean I can't face other threats in my life.”

Olivia's hands dropped on either of her sides, a pool of tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she held her gaze up to him. Letting go of the argument, so he would too, Olivia took the fastest and easiest way out. ”I'm sorry. I thought it was you.”

”No, you're not sorry. You wanted to dodge the subject.” He caged her in his arms, cocooning her in his embrace. He saw how she was in near tears from their emotional confrontation that his body automatically reached out for her even before his mind could formulate the next step.

The creases on his forehead smoothened at their contact. His eyes closed to erase the memory that was flashing in his head. He couldn't blame her too for pointing a finger at him when she connected the dots from her accepting a dance from those fools, to those fools embroiling in a scandal the day after.

Returning his hug, her arms coiled around his waist. She leaned her head on his c.h.e.s.t, her ears pressed against it. Suddenly, a slow small smile painted her face. She could hear his heartbeat. She could hear how it changed from the loud, erratic beating to a slow rhythmic one.

”Are you still mad at me?” she asked, lifting her head up to face him.

Rubbing his nose against hers, he replied, ”Never. I'll never get mad at you.”