A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 188: Did Olive Say So?

Chapter 188: Did Olive Say So?

Avelina’s nose twitched.

"Draven!" she exclaimed. Shockingly, she had unknowingly retained Draven’s scent, meaning that as long as he was where she was, she could immediately tell. He was in the house, and she knew, so without hesitation, she began to look for him.

"Draven..." She looked around the house and finally stopped in front of a door to the guest room. She could hear his voice, although it was quite low.

She grabbed the handle and slightly opened the door. She poked her head in and peeked, only to halt at the sight of Draven, a middle-aged man, and someone lying on the bed.

She furrowed her brows. "Valentine?..." Her voice was barely audible.

Draven turned his head to look at her. Instinctively, Avelina pulled back and shut the door. Should she have gone inside?

"He definitely saw me." She batted her eyes and proceeded to tiptoe away, but Draven opened the door, causing her to stop.

Draven raised his brow, curious. "Avelina, where are you going?

Avelina took a soft breath and slowly turned around to look at him.

"I didn’t mean to come in." She shook her head at him. "I was just looking for you. I had no idea you had a guest over."

Draven tilted his head. "Oh, he is just the doctor I called to treat Valentine. He broke his head."

"What?" Avelina was baffled.

"B-broke?"

Draven nodded. "Yes. You can come in with me if you want to."

"No." Avelina quickly declined. "I will come when that man is gone."

Draven raised his brow. "Are you scared of him?"

"No, of course not," Avelina replied with a slight frown on her face.

Draven smiled, amused. He lowered his head, suddenly noticing his hoodie on her. He examined her from head to toe and looked at her face.

Avelina could only fidget where she stood. She had never seen him scrutinize her that intently. Could he possibly be mad about his hoodie? She is aware he does not like to share his things, but it was just that she had nothing else to change into.

Draven gazed at her and abruptly cackled softly, catching her off guard.

She fluttered her large eyes. "Why are you laughing?"

Draven chuckled and moved closer to her.

"You are really short," he said to her.

"What?" Avelina loured, displeased. "I’m not short. I am average. You are just too tall."

Draven tapped his chin as though thinking.

"You’re right. I’m indeed just too tall. But really, the length is almost at your knees." He began to softly laugh again.

Avelina’s expression fell. She narrowed her eyes into a thin line, looking offended.

Draven blinked his eyes. "You’re so adorable, and you look really pretty when you’re grumpy. Your eyes are very pretty."

Suddenly, they reminded him of his mother’s eyes. They were just hazels like hers.

Avelina’s expression softened, and she lightly smiled.

Draven ruffled her hair and pulled her into a gentle hug, lifting her to her feet in a bear hug. Avelina’s smile widened, loving the warmth and feel of him.

The door suddenly pushed open, and Mr. Jean stepped out. He ceased at the sight of them and flickered his eyes. "I didn’t mean to interrupt." He cleared his throat.

Draven turned around to look at him while still carrying Avelina in a bear hug. It was clear he had no intention of putting her down to her feet just because of Mr. Jean.

"Is he okay now?" he queried.

Mr. Jean nodded his head. "Yes, he is alright. He is awake now, actually." He slightly bowed to him and walked off to leave.

Draven put Avelina down on her feet and pushed the door of the room open. He stepped in with her and shut the door behind them.

On the bed, Valentine sat with his legs curled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees. His head was skillfully wrapped in a bandage.

He knew that the people who had come in were Draven and Avelina, so he lifted his head to look at them.

"Hi, hi, sister-in-law." His smile widened, as though he were the happiest to see her.

Avelina fluttered her lashes and smiled at him. He sure was lively for someone who just woke up from his unconscious state. Draven was not saying a word to him. He was rather just staring at him.

Valentine shifted his attention to him, and his smile stretched wide enough to reach his eyes. "Merci, Frère."

Draven folded his arms.

"What were you doing there?" he questioned.

Valentine yawned as though hungry and proceeded to explain, "Nothing much, honestly. That’s my special place. I was just there."

"You knew Olive worked for me, right? Perhaps even before you approached him." Draven frowned.

"Hmmm..." Valentine supported his cheek with his balled fist. "Not exactly. I had no idea in the beginning. I found out after the incident of the bombing." He was being truthful.

"Was that why you approached and befriended him?" Draven pressed.

Valentine shook his head. "Not at all. We were genuinely friends—at least I was."

"I was just naturally drawn to him and liked him. Also, I knew that you knew, but then it was not up to me to tell you. Olive had to do it himself. But do not worry, we are not friends at all, not anymore. He said it himself."

He shrugged and plopped down on the bed.

Not friends? Draven was quite confused by this. If he wasn’t wrong, Olive definitely did consider Valentine a friend. Why has that suddenly changed?

He asked, "Did Olive say so?" he needed to confirm before he had any further thought about it.

"Yes, big brother," Valentine confirmed.

Draven gazed at him. Why? What changed? What could have even occurred before he got to that old mansion?

He could glimpse the sadness Valentine held. He was aware that Olive was the only friend he had made apart from his butler Adam.