Chapter Fifteen: Mother Not So Dearest (II)

Myra froze. His mother?

So Ren was really King's mother, why had he been so cold to her at the party? And where was his father? The questions sat on her tongue, but she hesitated. It's their family matter—I have no business asking.

"King hates his mother," Mr. Zuzuki said suddenly. His voice was quiet, but the weight in it was unmistakable.

"Hates her?" Myra echoed.

"She abandoned him when he was five."

Abandoned. The word hit Myra hard. How could a mother abandon her child? That pissed her off more than it should have.

"She doesn't love him," Zuzuki went on. "She only came back because she's greedy."

Myra frowned. That wasn't true. It couldn't be. If Ren was heartless, then why had Myra felt her sorrow so strongly? There had to be more to this than anyone else realized.

Mr. Zuzuki must have noticed her expression shift. "What about his father?" she asked carefully.

The old man hesitated, scratching the back of his head. Myra bit her lip. Maybe I'm being too nosey.

Surprisingly, Mr. Zuzuki moved closer and gently took her hands in his own. His grip was warm, firm—almost like a silent plea for her to listen.

"You're different from the others, Myra," he said. "I feel like I can trust you."

Something in his voice made her chest tighten. She gave him a small smile, encouraging him to continue.

"I raised both Ren and her son, and trust me—they have more in common than either of them realizes." He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "King was five when she left him with his grandmother. Just a few months later, she remarried. We all thought she'd come back for him, but she never did. Not even when he was hospitalized. Not even once."

Mr. Zuzuki sighed, his face etched with the weight of the past. "But thankfully, he still had a mother figure—his grandmother. King adored her, clung to her like a lifeline. Her death…" He paused, shaking his head. "It broke him."

Myra sat there, absorbing it all. Abandoned. Poisoned. Kidnapped. The things King had endured were unimaginable. And yet, here he was—laughing, teasing, trying to act like none of it had happened. Fuck! Had she misjudged him!

She wouldn't see him the same way again.

At that moment, King walked in, holding two soda cans. "What are you two gossiping about?" he asked, handing her one.

Without thinking, Myra reached out and pulled him into a hug.

King stiffened, completely caught off guard. Mr. Zuzuki, too, blinked in surprise.

She didn't care. She just…felt like he needed it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, as if sensing something private had just passed between them, Mr. Zuzuki chuckled. "I'll leave you two." He walked out, leaving them alone.

Slowly, Myra let go.

King stared at her, bewildered. "Okay…what was that for?"

She met his gaze, searching for the right words. Then she just shook her head, brushing past him.

"Forget it."

Even she needed an explanation for her behavior

He stood there, watching her go, still completely baffled.

---

The next morning, Myra stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the dress King had bought her in London. She'd refused at first, but—as always—he didn't listen.

Now, as she studied herself, she frowned. Something about her felt different. Not just the dress, not just her reflection. It was something deeper.

I feel…different.

Ever since she left the village, something had changed inside her. She felt more aware, more in control. Almost…human. Almost like she was developing emotions again.

It was unsettling.

She exhaled sharply and left the room, heading downstairs.

---

King was at the table, his eyes glued to his phone. Myra slid into her seat and poured herself some orange juice.

"Good morning," she greeted.

No response. She frowned, shoveling eggs and bacon into her mouth as she watched him. He was still typing, not even glancing up.

What's so important?

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. Still nothing.

Damn idiot.

She was about to leave when his hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist.

"Where are you off to?"

"Home." She yanked her hand free. "My weekend here is over" with that she exited, she got of the building and headed to the car but–

King smirked. "If you want to go home, find your own way. If you want to use my car—" He leaned back, smug. "—ask me properly"

She turned to the chauffaur " Can I use your phone?"

The man nodded and handed it over.But as soon as Myra took the phone, she froze.

I don't know their numbers.

The realization made her stomach drop. She had no cash for a taxi, no way to call home, and—thanks to King—no easy way out of this.

Damn him.

Her pride wouldn't let her ask for help, so she made a split-second decision. I'll just run. She knew the way home, and with her vampire speed, she'd get there in no time.

Lifting her chin, she turned toward the gate and started walking.

"Myra."

She ignored him.

"Myra."

Still, she kept going.

Then, after a pause, he said, "Fine. I'll take you home."

Surprised, she turned. King was standing beside his car, holding the door open.

Arms crossed, she studied him. One second, he's a complete jerk. The next, he's a gentleman. What is with this guy?

After a long moment, she sighed and got in.

---

The car ride was silent.

Myra rested her head against the window, watching the city blur past. She was bored.

Too bored.

She glanced at King, who—of course—was back on his phone.

Seriously? Again?

Grinding her teeth, she leaned over and snatched it out of his hands.

"Hey!" King shot her a glare. "Give it back."

Myra smirked, twirling the phone between her fingers. "Nope."

King reached for it, but she was faster, dodging his grasp easily.

His eyes narrowed. Oh, so that's how we're playing this?

With a sudden move, he caught her wrist. "Give it."

She held on tighter, refusing to let go.

King studied her for a second, then—out of nowhere—he smirked.

That expression made Myra pause. What is he—

Before she could react, he pulled her closer.

And kissed her.

Her mind went blank.

His lips moved against hers, slow but firm, his tongue sliding past her lips to tangle with hers. One of his hands found its way into her hair, fingers threading through the strands as he deepened the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he was breathless.

And Myra?

Frozen.

King took full advantage of her shock, plucking his phone from her loose grip.

"Sir, we've arrived," the chauffeur announced.

King smirked. "Thanks."

Before he could say anything to Myra, she was already out of the car.

Grinning, he leaned out the window and blew her a kiss.

She glared at him, then spun on her heel and stormed inside.

---

Back in her room, Myra collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Her fingers brushed against her lips.

What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. She had completely friend-zoned King—so why did he keep doing things like this?

And why didn't I stop him?

She didn't have an answer.

And that was the most frustrating part of all.