A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 385: Why Are You Lying To Me?

Chapter 385: Why Are You Lying To Me?

Sitting opposite Valentine on the sofa in his living room, Olive stared at him with a tilted head and his hand supporting his jaw.

"The selection begins the day after tomorrow, and you still want to stay here?" he asked.

Valentine, who was lying down on the couch, blinked one of his eyes open and peeked at him. He responded, "I have no business at home. I’m not exactly competing; pfft, I don’t even have a wife."

"But you can compete for the inheritance even if you don’t have a wife. Why aren’t you interested?" Olive further inquired.

Valentine stared at the ceiling, completely quiet. Indeed, why wasn’t he interested?

The inheritance held the object that could possibly heal him and even bring back the dead, so why wasn’t he interested? The reason was quite obvious.

The only person whom he would ever back down for was, but only Draven. He’d figured he wanted the revival object in the inheritance to bring back his wife. Even though Draven didn’t say a word to him, he’d figured it out himself, and since then, he’s completely backed down, not wanting to compete any longer.

Sure, his life was at stake, and that revival object could heal him, but it was a one-time use, meaning that if he used it, Draven would no longer be able to bring back his wife. His life wasn’t worth it anyway.

He was miserable, and nothing would probably change for him. His trauma would never heal, and a family was something he could never have, so what was the point? It would be such a waste to use the revival on him. He might as well give it to the one who needs it the most.

Perhaps in another life, he would be much better and happier. He wouldn’t have a terrible family and an awful father who wouldn’t mind uselessing him to get what they wanted.

The urge to laugh at himself overwhelmed him, and he turned to lie on his side, his back facing Olive.

Somehow, he was sort of looking forward to when he would die. Then he would be free of all the pain and misery he’d often felt. It was just a matter of time.

Olive could feel the sudden change in his demeanor, thus causing him to frown. He stood up from the sofa and walked over to squat beside the couch that Valentine was lying on.

"Is everything alright with you, Valentine?" he asked.

"Yes," Valentine replied, but he didn’t spare him a glance.

Olive sighed. "Why don’t I believe you?"

"That’s your business, Olive. Go away, you are disturbing me." Valentine clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Olive frowned at him. "If you didn’t want to be disturbed, you shouldn’t have come to my house. Look at you changing your mood in a matter of a few seconds. You didn’t even answer my question."

"I know something is going on with you. I can smell it," he said.

Valentine’s hands balled into a fist. He breathed heavily, absolutely nettled.

"Do you mind giving me space, Olive? I want to go to sleep! Go away and—"

Olive grabbed his hand and flipped him over to have him look at him. "What is going on with you? Why do you look so pale, and what the hell is going on with your attitude?"

Valentine stared at him, and his face slowly scrunched in anger. He snatched his hand away and glared at him. "Nothing is wrong with my attitude, and I’m just pale because I haven’t been taking enough blood. Just back off, and maybe I won’t be glaring at you!"

"See what I’m saying? You seem so frustrated, which isn’t how you used to be!" Olive retaliated.

Valentine rolled his eyes. "People change."

"Not you, Valentine. Your change is too sudden!" Olive’s expression crumpled. "You said I was your friend, so why are you being this way? If something is wrong, you should tell me, and perhaps I can help you! I might have a solution too, whatever it is that is bothering you."

"Mon dieu! Nothing is bothering me! Why won’t you understand that I am perfectly—" Valentine quickly covered his nose and sat up on the couch. From the small opening in between his fingers, blood began to drip out, causing Olive to widen his eyes.

"Valentine? What is going on? Why is your nose bleeding?" Olive was utterly lost and shocked.

Valentine didn’t answer him, but he got up from the sofa and rushed off to the bathroom. Olive hurried after him and went into the bathroom with him.

At the sink, the blood profusely oozing out of Valentine’s nose poured into the sink, so much so that even closing his nose was not stopping it.

Olive, who stood by the side, was completely horrified by what he was seeing. His body was trembling, and he was glued to his spot, his eyes fixed on Valentine.

"Valentine..." All he could mutter was his name.

From the mirror at the sink, Valentine watched his bleeding nose, unable to do anything about it. It started with small bleeding that wasn’t much of a concern to this horrifying profuse bleeding.

Was his death near? Was his life slipping away from him little by little?

He watched as a tear fell from both his eyes, and before Olive could glimpse it, he quickly wiped it off and looked away to keep his face hidden from his view, but regardless, Olive was able to see it.

This proved his suspicion right; something was heavily wrong with Valentine. He was hiding something from him.

"Go away...Olive," Valentine mumbled, his tone heavily tinged with sadness. "Please don’t look at me like that. Don’t give me that pitiful, scared look. I’m completely—"

"Why are you lying to me? If your nose bleeding like that is normal and fine, then I have nothing else to say to you!" His tone was one of anger. He looked at Valentine with disappointment, pain, and annoyance evident in his gaze. "You call me your best friend, yet here you stand, obviously in a bad state, and you can’t even let me know what the issue is."