With business settled, Arabella took Raven alone for a grand meal.
She claimed she was picking what Raven liked, though it was often Raven watching Arabella eat.
He often went out with Arabella alone; he was her invisible weapon, always by her side.
But today was different. Arabella had brought him along, and he was her Raven.
Sitting across from her, his mind began to wander.
Arabella's table manners were far from dainty—she ate meat and drank wine in hearty gulps, each bite savoring the flavors fully, chewing with a satisfying relish.
Raven remembered the old days, when Arabella had yet to rise to power and led them like a band of wildlings.
Sometimes they'd have a meal, then starve for days.
Arabella led them through desolate mountains, wild swamps, and dense rainforest, constantly on the move with no place to truly settle.
Looking back, though those times were difficult, he hadn't yet become Arabella's weapon.
When he caught malaria, wracked with fever and chills, with no medicine available, Arabella had carried him across mountains.
At that time, he was shivering, cold sweat breaking over him, his whole body trembling. Arabella's embrace was cold too, without even a decent piece of clothing between them—they relied solely on the warmth of their shared closeness.
Seeing Raven sitting without eating, Arabella raised her eyes and asked, "Why aren't you eating? What do you like? Order it."
A smile appeared on Raven's lips. He was extraordinarily handsome, though rarely smiling, his expression usually as cold as an icy mountain peak. But when he did smile, it was like spring breaking through, rendering everything else dull by comparison.
"I like everything. Here—Master Unknown, this fish is really good, have more." Raven served Arabella with endless tenderness hidden in his heart.
For a moment, they ate and drank in harmony, a rare world of just the two of them.
In Arabella's eyes, both Raven and Albatross were people she'd raised, though they were actually older than her by a few years. Those she had brought up had a certain weight in her heart.
Under the condition of usefulness, she tried to satisfy their desires.
There was only one rule—Raven could enjoy all manner of privileges, but he could never share her bed.
Who had ever heard of someone snuggling with their weapon?
A weapon was meant to be polished and well-maintained, wielded to dominate the field. Stuck in bed, it wasn't a weapon—it was a prop, a mere plaything.
In between bites, Arabella held her glass, savoring the moment of peace as her gaze fell on the distant street scene.
Here was a small town on the border between two countries, in a lawless zone—a convenient gathering place for all kinds of people.
The street was bustling with people, a lively scene of activity.
But in the next second, Arabella's gaze froze, her mind going blank, momentarily forgetting to keep up her usual fake smile.
Sitting across from her, Raven keenly sensed her unusual reaction. He kept his composure, noting that there was no caution in her face—it wasn't a sign of danger.
It was an expression unlike any he had seen, a mixture of shock, confusion, and a hint of pain.
Pain!
It was a look on Arabella's face that Raven, since the first day he met her, had never seen before. His curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't help but follow her gaze.
But before he could clearly see who exactly had appeared on the street—
Arabella had already leaped out the window, jumping straight down from the sixth floor without a hint of hesitation.
Raven gasped and rushed to the window, looking down.
Arabella moved with a swift, ghostly grace. She pressed a foot against the gap between floors, launching herself into a mid-air descent. Midway, she caught hold of a jutting railing, flipped back effortlessly, and, with a few fluid motions, landed smoothly on the ground.
Raven watched as Arabella, without looking back, dashed into the street, sprinting after a car that was already some distance away.
It was clear she had seen the person about to get in the car, which had caused her rare loss of composure.
With the target identified, Raven didn't hesitate and leapt out the window himself, diving straight down from the sixth floor.
By the time the restaurant manager noticed, the table was long empty.
She was stunned; it was the first time she'd seen someone jump from the sixth floor to skip out on a meal—did they have a death wish?
Merrick came out of the clinic, shaking his sore arm.
This was where he'd met with his handler.
To have a legitimate reason for being here, he had provoked some of AE's other confidant's men last night, fighting them in exhausting rounds until dawn. His entire body was sore, especially his shoulder, which had taken a hard hit from a baton.
Once he got in the car, he closed his eyes, exhaustion showing in his expression.
The temporary driver, seeing his boss's weary look, was eager to please and floored it, not realizing someone was leaping and chasing after the car.
Arabella followed closely, sprinting after the car, leaping to higher vantage points whenever possible.
But as she drew close, she suddenly stopped.
Standing on a rooftop, she watched the car drive away, her expression gradually turning cold.
She had lost control!
With just a glimpse, she had chased the car this far.
She glanced down, seeing the street in uproar over her daring leap, a crowd gathering to watch in astonishment.
She loathed the attention, despised being under scrutiny. In the stark daylight, there was nowhere to hide, as if every dark, ruthless thought in her heart was laid bare for all to see.
She scratched the back of her head and slipped away, her face darkening to an icy expression, her gaze filled with a sinister air rarely seen.
She had traveled far and wide, found many men, and collected many similar gazes.
Some even looked similar, but none had those brilliant, glowing eyes. Or like Nicholas, who had that same pure gaze but bore no resemblance otherwise.
How could it be so coincidental? That face, those eyes—they were the very image of that boy grown up.
In her mind, she carefully recalled the man she'd just seen, convinced he resembled Cyrus Ackerley far more than Marcellus Ackerley.
Marcellus and Cyrus were brothers.
But Marcellus was clearly cold and severe in appearance, with a powerful, commanding build and an unruly arrogance that made him thoroughly unlikable. His sharp, blade-like eyes held an air of superiority, casting a gaze that seemed to say all others were mere mortals beneath him.
Cyrus was entirely different—his eyes sparkled with a radiant light, deep and captivating, like stars over an endless sea. A gentle smile always played at his lips, and his bearing was as graceful as polished jade, exuding warmth and noble elegance. He treated others with a kindness as refreshing as a spring breeze, possessing a rare poise that was both beautiful and effortlessly enchanting, leaving others in awe.
Her boy was dead. She thought she'd never see what he would look like grown up, but today, a glimpse had thrown her completely off balance.
When Raven caught up with her, Arabella was standing calmly at the alley entrance, smiling as if nothing had happened.
Raven didn't mention her lapse; he was wise enough to know he'd glimpsed one of her rare vulnerabilities, a deeply hidden secret.
But secrets were opportunities, or perhaps a shortcut to getting closer to Arabella.
He quietly concealed his thoughts, but from the rooftop earlier, he had managed to glimpse the person's silhouette and noted the license plate.
Finding someone wouldn't be difficult.
After this unexpected encounter, Arabella had no appetite for a meal.
She returned to their temporary residence with Raven, only to find several flyers scattered in front of the garden villa.
The gates were shut, and the guards were inside, so the flyers just looked a bit messy.
Arabella wouldn't have bothered with them, but as she waited for the gate to open, her gaze casually fell to the ground.
The flyers were filled with dense text, but one slogan stood out in large, bold print: "Love and Peace."
?
She felt strangely familiar with those three words.
Her mind turned over, recalling a hotel in Island, a pair of pink cat slippers, and an assortment of random items.
Along with that fool's name and identity sprang into her mind.
Julius, the youngest son of Governor.
A smile crept across Arabella's lips, turning into full laughter, drawing curious glances from Raven beside her.
Arabella's previously somber mood lifted in an instant. She reached up, hooking her arm around Raven's neck. With Raven being so tall, he had to bend down and twist slightly to match her stance, but he was just as pleased. The two entered with this strange posture, Arabella's uninhibited laughter ringing out as they crossed the threshold.
That foolish son of Governor had walked right into her hands—this time, her shipment was absolutely secure.
