Falling For My Ex's Uncle - Chapter 84: Chapter 84
You are reading Falling For My Ex's Uncle, Chapter 84: Chapter 84. Read more chapters of Falling For My Ex's Uncle.
The moment I heard the word "identity," the brief ripple of emotion in my heart instantly disappeared, replaced by a dull ache, a sourness that settled deep inside.
As someone who had secretly adored Alex for years, it made sense that no matter what I did, he would always protect me unconditionally. After all, I had spent years loving him from the shadows.
I forced a smile, feeling strangely relieved. "You're a good actor. For a second, I almost believed you."
"Your wound needs treatment."
Alex furrowed his brow, his eyes filled with concern and sympathy. Watching him pretend so earnestly, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Should I shed some fake tears to go along with the act?
But no matter how hard I tried, no tears came. All I felt was a lingering fury, still smoldering beneath the surface, and a faint trace of fear and unease.
"I'm fine." I instinctively pulled my hand back.
Alex towered over me, silent for a moment, then without warning, he scooped me up into his arms.
I remained unfazed, looking him dead in the eye. "It's my wrist, not my legs."
"I know."
I didn't struggle—not just because I was exhausted, but because I could smell blood in the air, though I wasn't sure whether it was mine or his.
But I was too tired to care. If he wanted to act out some heartfelt scene, I'd play along. After all, today had already been chaotic. Who knew what that old fox would do later if I didn't cooperate?
Alex carried me to his room, in full view of everyone.
Should I cry? Or should I cry some more?
Who would have thought? After I slashed Abigail's face, Alex didn't even scold me. Instead, he actually gave me the chance to climb into his bed.
But honestly, his bed was much larger than mine. There was plenty of space to roll around. It was just that I was too tired.
"Go take a shower. Don't let the wound get wet," Alex said softly, placing me on his bed.
I couldn't stop staring at the bite mark on his pale neck—proof of the night we shared two days ago. I hadn't realized it hadn't healed. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't believe I was still thinking about it.
That night... my breath hitched, and I suddenly felt ashamed.
It must have been the lingering effects of the drugs, clouding my judgment.
My mind flashed to the image of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and those chiseled abs—definitely not suitable for children.
"I'll go take a shower."
I hurriedly stood up and walked into the bathroom, flustered, hoping to cover up my guilty thoughts.
I ran the water, listening to the sounds outside. Not long after, the sound of the door closing reached me, and I slumped, feeling drained, my body completely devoid of energy.
Fear seemed to wrap around me like a suffocating blanket.
I had always thought that violence was something you only saw in school, but the violence of the real world was far more terrifying.
Fighting fire with fire—it seemed to be the only way to resist violence, then and now.
I propped myself up with my hand on the wall, slowly standing.
Looking into the mirror, I saw a pale face staring back, someone who seemed like they might shatter any second.
But those eyes—those eyes held a deadly, calculating glint.
I pulled the corners of my mouth into a smile, staring into the mirror.
The eyes that had once looked lifeless now gleamed with a hint of light, though the corners of my eyes held a glint of mischief. My gaze was deep, almost predatory, with an unsettling, eerie quality.
I took a few deep breaths, then wiped the smile from my lips.
I sank into the bathtub, closing my eyes. My heart seemed to stop beating, and everything around me fell silent.
I don't know how long I lay there, but I must have fallen asleep.
When I finally opened my eyes, Alex was standing in the bathroom, his eyes studying me with a complex expression.
"I'll be out in a minute," I said, meeting his gaze with calm indifference. Thankfully, the bath was filled with bubbles, or he would have seen everything.
"The water's cold now. Don't stay in too long, or you'll catch a cold."
I nodded, thinking, There's no audience here. Why am I still acting?
Had I become addicted to this game?
I sighed. Honestly, part of me was still scared.
Why had he come back? He wasn't supposed to be here. Shouldn't he be with Samantha?
After I dried off, I realized Alex hadn't given me my own clothes. Instead, he handed me a black strapless dress, accompanied by a necklace and bracelet made of black pearls, with a gold-wrapped black gem dangling from the chain. The bracelet matched perfectly.
It was a set, almost like it was custom-made just for me.
Was this something Alex had planned ahead of time? It didn't seem like he could have known I would be hurt. But still, the outfit suited me perfectly, like it was made for my current aura.
"Don't wear the jewelry for now."
"Okay."
When I picked up the dress, I saw the lingerie set laid out next to it. Black lace with floral patterns.
I hesitated for a moment, but then decided to put it on.
To my surprise, it was my size.
When I walked out in the black dress, Alex's eyes darkened for a moment, though he quickly masked it.
"This dress suits you," Alex said, standing slowly. His gaze lingered on my wrist, where the blood had dried but the wound still looked horrific. "Come here, sit down."
He patted the seat beside him, his voice soft as ever.
But I couldn't shake the chill running down my spine.
Alex had prepared everything for me—his intentions were obvious. Even if I didn't want to go to the welcoming banquet, I had no choice.
Was he not worried about scaring all those rich ladies?
And what about Samantha? Would she even be able to show her face at the banquet?
I was curious—what would her reaction be when she saw me?
Suddenly, the idea of attending the banquet didn't feel so bad anymore.
I obediently sat beside Alex.
He smiled gently, pulling my hand into his, the blood on my wrist long dried, but the wound still unsettling.
"It might hurt a little," Alex murmured, dipping a cotton swab into some ointment and gently dabbing it on my wound.
His perfect profile, so close, made my heart skip once again. I couldn't deny it—his beauty was distracting.
I almost forgot the most important thing.
"Are you not angry?"
Alex narrowed his eyes, lifting his head, and the faint scent of mint hit me. As his gaze lingered on my lips, I immediately felt my throat tighten. I quickly turned my head, trying to push down the restless feeling stirring inside me.
It must be the medication messing with my head.
As someone who had secretly adored Alex for years, it made sense that no matter what I did, he would always protect me unconditionally. After all, I had spent years loving him from the shadows.
I forced a smile, feeling strangely relieved. "You're a good actor. For a second, I almost believed you."
"Your wound needs treatment."
Alex furrowed his brow, his eyes filled with concern and sympathy. Watching him pretend so earnestly, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Should I shed some fake tears to go along with the act?
But no matter how hard I tried, no tears came. All I felt was a lingering fury, still smoldering beneath the surface, and a faint trace of fear and unease.
"I'm fine." I instinctively pulled my hand back.
Alex towered over me, silent for a moment, then without warning, he scooped me up into his arms.
I remained unfazed, looking him dead in the eye. "It's my wrist, not my legs."
"I know."
I didn't struggle—not just because I was exhausted, but because I could smell blood in the air, though I wasn't sure whether it was mine or his.
But I was too tired to care. If he wanted to act out some heartfelt scene, I'd play along. After all, today had already been chaotic. Who knew what that old fox would do later if I didn't cooperate?
Alex carried me to his room, in full view of everyone.
Should I cry? Or should I cry some more?
Who would have thought? After I slashed Abigail's face, Alex didn't even scold me. Instead, he actually gave me the chance to climb into his bed.
But honestly, his bed was much larger than mine. There was plenty of space to roll around. It was just that I was too tired.
"Go take a shower. Don't let the wound get wet," Alex said softly, placing me on his bed.
I couldn't stop staring at the bite mark on his pale neck—proof of the night we shared two days ago. I hadn't realized it hadn't healed. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't believe I was still thinking about it.
That night... my breath hitched, and I suddenly felt ashamed.
It must have been the lingering effects of the drugs, clouding my judgment.
My mind flashed to the image of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and those chiseled abs—definitely not suitable for children.
"I'll go take a shower."
I hurriedly stood up and walked into the bathroom, flustered, hoping to cover up my guilty thoughts.
I ran the water, listening to the sounds outside. Not long after, the sound of the door closing reached me, and I slumped, feeling drained, my body completely devoid of energy.
Fear seemed to wrap around me like a suffocating blanket.
I had always thought that violence was something you only saw in school, but the violence of the real world was far more terrifying.
Fighting fire with fire—it seemed to be the only way to resist violence, then and now.
I propped myself up with my hand on the wall, slowly standing.
Looking into the mirror, I saw a pale face staring back, someone who seemed like they might shatter any second.
But those eyes—those eyes held a deadly, calculating glint.
I pulled the corners of my mouth into a smile, staring into the mirror.
The eyes that had once looked lifeless now gleamed with a hint of light, though the corners of my eyes held a glint of mischief. My gaze was deep, almost predatory, with an unsettling, eerie quality.
I took a few deep breaths, then wiped the smile from my lips.
I sank into the bathtub, closing my eyes. My heart seemed to stop beating, and everything around me fell silent.
I don't know how long I lay there, but I must have fallen asleep.
When I finally opened my eyes, Alex was standing in the bathroom, his eyes studying me with a complex expression.
"I'll be out in a minute," I said, meeting his gaze with calm indifference. Thankfully, the bath was filled with bubbles, or he would have seen everything.
"The water's cold now. Don't stay in too long, or you'll catch a cold."
I nodded, thinking, There's no audience here. Why am I still acting?
Had I become addicted to this game?
I sighed. Honestly, part of me was still scared.
Why had he come back? He wasn't supposed to be here. Shouldn't he be with Samantha?
After I dried off, I realized Alex hadn't given me my own clothes. Instead, he handed me a black strapless dress, accompanied by a necklace and bracelet made of black pearls, with a gold-wrapped black gem dangling from the chain. The bracelet matched perfectly.
It was a set, almost like it was custom-made just for me.
Was this something Alex had planned ahead of time? It didn't seem like he could have known I would be hurt. But still, the outfit suited me perfectly, like it was made for my current aura.
"Don't wear the jewelry for now."
"Okay."
When I picked up the dress, I saw the lingerie set laid out next to it. Black lace with floral patterns.
I hesitated for a moment, but then decided to put it on.
To my surprise, it was my size.
When I walked out in the black dress, Alex's eyes darkened for a moment, though he quickly masked it.
"This dress suits you," Alex said, standing slowly. His gaze lingered on my wrist, where the blood had dried but the wound still looked horrific. "Come here, sit down."
He patted the seat beside him, his voice soft as ever.
But I couldn't shake the chill running down my spine.
Alex had prepared everything for me—his intentions were obvious. Even if I didn't want to go to the welcoming banquet, I had no choice.
Was he not worried about scaring all those rich ladies?
And what about Samantha? Would she even be able to show her face at the banquet?
I was curious—what would her reaction be when she saw me?
Suddenly, the idea of attending the banquet didn't feel so bad anymore.
I obediently sat beside Alex.
He smiled gently, pulling my hand into his, the blood on my wrist long dried, but the wound still unsettling.
"It might hurt a little," Alex murmured, dipping a cotton swab into some ointment and gently dabbing it on my wound.
His perfect profile, so close, made my heart skip once again. I couldn't deny it—his beauty was distracting.
I almost forgot the most important thing.
"Are you not angry?"
Alex narrowed his eyes, lifting his head, and the faint scent of mint hit me. As his gaze lingered on my lips, I immediately felt my throat tighten. I quickly turned my head, trying to push down the restless feeling stirring inside me.
It must be the medication messing with my head.
End of Falling For My Ex's Uncle Chapter 84. Continue reading Chapter 85 or return to Falling For My Ex's Uncle book page.