How Can Two People From Different Sides Ever Fall in Love? - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

◎ Pampering Him for Once ◎

On the way there, Raven had meticulously traced Victor Junior’s features on his phone countless times the amber pupils, the perky nose, and the lips of moderate thickness.

He studied them with extreme earnestness, determined to reach a level where he could recognize the man even if he turned to ash.

However, in the materials sent by the unit, on a high-definition photo comparable to an ID portrait the young man was dressed in a suit and leather shoes, in his early twenties, and looked quite decent. Amidst a sea of bold Western features, his brows and eyes leaned toward a softer look.

As the child of a widely renowned handsome man and a beautiful woman, he had undoubtedly inherited his parents’ good looks.

Now, stepping back from the scrutiny of the lens and observing the real person offline, the impact of those good looks was even more direct especially since those good looks were dressed up like a Christmas tree.

A forest-green suit and dark brown trousers, with a flaming red shirt collar adorned by a pink bowtie; two long legs, thin as hemp stalks, swayed constantly as he threaded through the entire banquet.

He looked exactly like an undernourished sapling that would topple with a gust of wind.

Compared to his disastrous taste, what was even more disastrous was that this taste actually looked eerily harmonious on him.

Raven rarely appreciated maximalism; was this what they meant by “artistic completion relying entirely on the face”?

As luck would have it, this magnificent Christmas tree was now heading straight for them with a clear target.

“This gentleman,” Victor Junior pointed directly at Raven. After approaching, he stood at a carefully designed angle, raised his champagne, and deliberately tilted his head, “Why have I never seen you at any other banquet?”

Perhaps because this is his first time attending one.

The first time often leaves the deepest impression. Raven thought to himself that he would never forget in this lifetime how, during his first banquet, he was actually chatted up by a Christmas tree.

Raven silently met Hollis’s gaze, drawing the same meaning from each other’s eyes: if this was a case of “playing the pig to eat the tiger,” even if they misjudged him in the future, they would accept the loss.

A playboy dressed as a Christmas tree was truly unheard of; New Zigg truly lived up to its reputation as a modern metropolis.

“Mr. Victor Junior, hello.”

The prey delivering himself to the door saved them a lot of trouble. Raven smiled at this Christmas tree with gentle politeness.

“We are the primary persons in charge of this Light and Shadow Art Week. I am Raven Griffith, and this is Hollis Lancelot. We hope you will forgive our uninvited intrusion.”

Victor Junior used his expression to directly show whether he forgave them or not.

In an instant, his head straightened, his smile vanished, and even the champagne lowered.

It was like a Christmas tree covered in colored lights accidentally kicking the switch; with a snap, only the undernourished trunk remained.

Raven’s smile, however, deepened.

“Oh, from San Loria.”

On the second floor of the manor, Victor Junior led the two into an empty room, heading for the sofa without looking back.

He didn’t say “Please enter,” nor did he say “Please sit.” He uttered this sentence with an ambiguous meaning and sat down on his own, arms crossed, struggling to straighten his spine as he focused his gaze on the two uninvited guests.

Only, as soon as he sat down, his trouser legs slid up, revealing multicolored socks on his ankles, making him look even more like a walking Christmas tree.

“Work is over now.” However, he didn’t ask the two to leave; he had some politeness, but not much.

“We went to the company to look for you during the scheduled time,” after a small internal flare-up, Raven chose a cowardly decency, “The receptionist said you had an important meeting. We were forced by the situation and had no choice but to find you here. I hope you will forgive us, sir.”

“Go find Andre Clement. Anyway, he’s the one managing company matters.”

Especially this matter; Victor Junior had known nothing about it beforehand. By the time he found out, Andre had already taken the lead and built the bridge.

The main subject is still alive and well; please don’t trouble the victim.

Hearing this, Raven felt a bit of a headache.

He was even referring to the man by his full name; it seemed the relationship was more than just “not good.”

Hollis ignored the twists and turns, stepping forward with his “mask” at the right time to deliver a piece of correct nonsense: “You are the President; he is not.”

“Don’t be like that, Hollis,” Raven persuaded in a soft voice.

A traditional “good cop, bad cop” routine, yet Victor Junior suddenly raised his volume, appearing as if being the President had wronged him terribly: “You think I want to be this President?!”

Raven’s head hurt even more. Meeting this kind of reckless character, even painting one’s face in rainbow colors wouldn’t help.

“If you don’t want to do it, you can resign. I imagine there are plenty of people who want the position of President of the Victor Group.” He hadn’t expected Hollis to be even more reckless than him.

Combined with his sincere expression, it was impossible for a moment to tell if he was offering a suggestion or being sarcastic.

Raven could see with the naked eye that the Christmas tree’s face was gradually turning the same color as his clothes.

A green that almost bordered on fluorescent.

Fluctuations in emotion were good; the most fearsome thing was no ripples at all—letting the winds blow from all directions while he cared about nothing.

“Mr. Victor Junior, we mean nothing else.”

Just like your appeal, we only want to finish the task and get off work early.

“We are truly very sorry to bother you during non-working hours.”

If we could find you during working hours, we wouldn’t have to come knocking during rest hours.

“Hehe.” Raven gave an apologetic smile.

“Look, what time tomorrow would be suitable for us to visit again? Or we don’t have to go through the trouble; right now is fine too,” he lifted the briefcase in his hand, “We brought the contract with us.”

Hollis reminded him: “We also brought pens and an inkpad, and wet wipes.”

Lest he whine again and find a bunch of excuses.

Victor Junior didn’t reply immediately. At the moment the briefcase was showcased, the corner of his eye twitched.

Earlier in the banquet hall downstairs, the reason he had eagerly walked into the trap was because he had spotted the briefcase from a distance.

In a banquet where everyone was dressed to the nines, a briefcase suddenly appearing was so novel! He thought there was some interesting activity, like cosplay.

New Zigg is a modern metropolis full of tolerance; there’s no telling who might want to play something different at a banquet.

Victor Junior was only in his early twenties, the age of peak tolerance. If there was excitement, he’d join in, and thus he “walked like a sheep into a tiger’s mouth.”

However, since the other party found him through their own merit, he accepted the loss. With a wave of his hand, he said crisply: “Fine. In light of the fact that you’re good-looking, I’ll listen to you.”

The smile on Raven’s face almost failed to hold. Fortunately, there was a next sentence, and he steadied himself again.

“At the same time tomorrow, come to the company. I’ll sign with you.”

Raven didn’t agree immediately.

He truly lacked experience in dealing with this subspecies of human. After a moment’s thought, he felt it was better to be safe than sorry, so he decided to sacrifice a bit of his personal self.

“Let’s exchange contact information. If Mr. Victor Junior has any doubts regarding the Art Week, you can contact me at any time.”

Walking out of the manor, Raven was still in disbelief: “All that social maneuvering earlier, and in the end, the phone number was given so readily?!”

It was so ready it was practically a dream.

Hollis, however, was not in high spirits.

He gave a soft “Mm” and said neutrally: “Probably in light of the fact that you’re good-looking.”

Raven: “…”

On closer thought, he actually felt a trace of being moved. Hollis hadn’t chosen to erupt on the spot, but rather waited until afterward to be sarcastic.

He’d matured; he knew the value of endurance.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was that in the near future, he would regret tonight’s impulse countless times.

His experience in dealing with this subspecies was still too lacking.

Afterward, Raven and Hollis walked quite a distance before they finally managed to get into a car.

The taxi cut through the night. Raven sat upright in the back seat, letting the neon lights outside cast their glow on his face. With half-drooped eyelids, his long eyelashes were rendered in a myriad of colors.

Halfway through the ride, Hollis suddenly said: “What are you thinking about?”

“Thinking about work, thinking about…” Raven’s voice stopped abruptly. The gaze he leveled at the man beside him spoke for itself; he was thinking about Hollis’s still-unspoken request.

“Oh,” Hollis didn’t take the bait, insisting that Raven ask it himself, “Thinking about what?”

Raven shut his mouth and retracted his gaze. The two returned to the hotel in silence.

When they arrived back at the hotel, it was already late. They quickly washed up and went to bed.

In the dim space, Hollis spoke out of the blue: “If you want to ask, just ask. The answer isn’t written on my face.”

Raven was startled. He turned his face, which had been tilted toward Hollis, and stared at the ceiling in silence.

Eyes so sharp, which one of them is supposed to be nearsighted?

The sound of shifting came from beside him; Hollis had changed to a sleeping position facing Raven. He opened his eyes, tracing Raven’s hazy silhouette in the misty night.

“Ask if you want. Don’t worry, it absolutely has nothing to do with work.” The night blurred many things, and Hollis rarely cracked a joke, “For example, inviting you to play a mole in the next election.”

Raven knew perfectly well it had nothing to do with work, but he had just declared that public and private should be clearly separated and couldn’t be conflated. Now that the matter was still fresh in memory, was he about to be hit with a “slap in the face”?

If he didn’t ask, he could retain a shred of dignity.

But, given Hollis’s disposition, what kind of decent private request could he possibly make?

Only by asking could Raven prepare his response in advance.

In his dilemma, the movement beside him grew larger. Before Raven’s brain which was as dim as the night could recover, a large body squeezed over.

As he squeezed, he said shamelessly: “Move over a bit, make some room for me.”

Raven was pushed toward the wall. He was so bewildered he was almost indignant: “Where can I go? This is a single bed. Be reasonable, please!”

“It’s fine. We’ll fall asleep once we squeeze in.”

Raven had the wall in front and Hollis behind; one side cold, one side hot. He didn’t know whose space was being encroached upon!

“You were sleeping fine, why did you come over!” Having to suffer an unprovoked disaster while trying to sleep, Raven couldn’t help but speculate about the perpetrator with the greatest malice, “You aren’t planning to redeem your request right now, are you?!”

“What are you thinking?” Facing Raven’s back, Hollis wrapped him in his embrace with long limbs. Taking advantage of the fact that the person in his arms couldn’t move, the hand circling the waist moved up and tapped his forehead, “This bed is only this big. If I redeem it now, I’d be at a loss.”

But being able to hold the person in a full embrace made his heart flutter; he thought that getting such a bed for his home seemed not bad.

Raven simply couldn’t believe his ears, which also indirectly proved just how private Hollis’s request was.

For a moment, all the foul language he had ever heard in his life flooded his brain; he actually couldn’t pick which sentence to say.

Hollis drew Raven closer into his embrace, deciding to pamper him for once: “I am a brute.”

Raven: “…”

He’s said all there is to say; what else can I say?

The two fell asleep in this manner, each “harboring their own ghosts.”

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