A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 65: You Son Of A B*tch...

Chapter 65: You Son Of A B*tch...

Olive immediately lifted his head, and at the sight of Valentine, his face crumpled.

"You!" His eyes flickered vigorously. "What are you doing here? And how the hell do you know my name?"

Valentine laughed.

"This is my favorite place to dine. And why are you here?"

Olive frowned at him, hinting at his absolute displeasure. "It’s none of your business. How do you know my name?"

Valentine blinked his eyes, but he did not give him a response.

"Are you stalking me?" Olive’s expression was getting uglier.

Valentine quickly shook his head at him. "No, no, no. I heard your blonde friend call you Olive at the ceremony, so..."

Olive’s eyes immediately narrowed vehemently. He knows Loui too...

"I have lost my appetite." He abruptly stood up from his seat to exit the restaurant, but Valentine grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping him.

"Wait! Wait!" Valentine stood up and hurried to stand in front of him.

Olive stared down at him since Valentine’s height stopped, but only at his chest. He creased his brows at him.

"Get. Out. Of my way!" His words were emphasized.

"You have a very awful temper." Valentine pinched between his brows. "Are you mad about your cigarette I crushed the last time?"

"Well, worry not. I always carried a pack in my pocket, in case I ever ran into you." He grabbed Olive’s hand and placed the packet in the center of his palm.

Olive was immediately infuriated. His left eye twitched furiously, and with annoyance evident on his face, he threw the packet at Valentine’s forehead, then went ahead to grab him by the collar of his coat, lifting him a bit off his feet.

"I will snap your neck into two if you don’t stop bothering me!" He glared at him, oblivious to the eyes that had shifted toward him.

Valentine squinted his lashes and said with a taunting smile, "People are watching you, Mr. Olive."

"What?" Olive darted his gaze around in surprise.

He looked at Valentine with gritted teeth. "You son of a b*tch..."

Unwilling to attract more attention, he let go of Valentine’s collar and patted his shoulder with a forced smile on his face.

Valentine grinned at him and gestured. "Shall we have a seat?"

"Sure." Olive nodded as he sat down on the chair, even though he was not willing. Nearly everyone in the restaurant was aware of Valentine’s identity. What would they think if they witnessed him hurting Valentine? Heck, he might even get into deep, unwanted trouble.

Not willing to ruin his mood over such an unnecessary issue, he ordered a few meals for himself. Valentine did the same.

They did not say a word to each other for a while. After a few attempts by Valentine to talk to him, Olive callously rejected it.

Valentine glowered, vexation evident on his face. "You are making this awkward for the both of us. I have made several attempts to utter a word to you, but you shut me up before I can even say a word."

"That is your business, kid. Je suis venu ici pour dîner, not to talk to you," Olive responded without sparing him a glance. He scoops a spoonful of Soupe à l’oignon to eat, unbothered by Valentine.

Valentine’s right eye twitched, and he slammed his hands on the table angrily.

"Chers cieux!! I have told you that I’m not a kid! Stop calling me that; it does not sound funny!" His voice this time around sounded serious, unlike his usual lighthearted tone.

Olive rolled his lazy eyes up and looked at him. He slowed down his chewing and folded his arms. "I’ll be the judge of that. How old are you?"

He supported his chin with his hand and raised his brow.

Valentine scoffed and chucked down a glass of La Fèe Absinthe. "Ninety years!"

"What?!" Olive showed a look of surprise that lasted only a few seconds. "Why do you look this young, like a teenage boy? I mean, we don’t age, but didn’t you stop aging a bit too fast? Or is it because you are quite slender? Do you take enough blood or perhaps eat properly?"

He was genuinely curious.

Valentine’s expression fell. Instead of answering, he abruptly picked up his utensils and began to eat at a quickened pace.

This left Olive very confused. Why the sudden change in his mood and genial behavior?

A frown settled in between his brows, and starting to get very concerned, he harshly grabbed Valentine by the wrist. "Hey! That is enough!"

But Valentine didn’t respond.

This left Olive quite annoyed. He snatched the knife and fork from him and dropped them on the table. "I’m talking to you! Slow the heck down, or you will choke on your food. I’m not going to be responsible for your death!"

His expression was one of irritation.

Valentine’s head was lowered, however, from the sight of his shoulder that was rising and falling, Olive could tell that he was mad.

"Why are you eating so quickly? No one is taking your food away from you," Olive said.

A moment of silence fell between the two of them. Valentine suddenly raised his head with a face full of smiles.

"This is how I eat. It’s been a habit since I was a kid."

"What?!" Olive crinkled his brows, stunned. "What do you mean by that? Why would you even create such a habit?"

Valentine beamed. "Things make us develop habits that we do not desire. I have had my fair share."

He cackled softly and added, "Also, I look younger than I am supposed to look because I have a younger face than the rest of you."

"As for my body, um... I really don’t have an answer to that. Trust me, I have a bigger appetite than anyone I’ve ever known. I am a glutton, so I have always just been like this."

Olive blinked his eyes, clearly appalled. He rested back on his chair and crossed his legs. "I see."

"What about you? How old are you?" Valentine probed.

Olive arched his left brow at him. "And why would I tell you?"