Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All
Chapter 615: Cookies

Chapter 615: Chapter 615: Cookies

The sleek black car glided down the dimly lit road as Qiao Jun gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tense and his mind elsewhere.

Beside him sat Vivian, her presence heavy and oppressive, despite her outwardly cheerful demeanor.

She hummed a tune under her breath, occasionally casting sly glances at Qiao Jun, her coyness barely masking the determination simmering beneath her surface.

Qiao Jun’s eyes flickered to his phone, which sat on the dashboard. A message—one he was waiting for—had yet to arrive.

"Brother Jun, are you even listening to me?" Vivian’s voice broke through his thoughts, her tone playful yet tinged with irritation.

"Hm?" he responded absently, his focus still on the road.

Vivian pouted dramatically.

"You’ve been ignoring me since we left the party. What’s so interesting about your phone that you can’t even look at me?"

Qiao Jun didn’t respond, his silence a deliberate wall between them.

The atmosphere in the car grew tense as Vivian’s pout deepened.

She clenched her fists in her lap, muttering under her breath about how everything was Yu Holea’s fault.

’It’s that b*tch! Because of her brother Jun doesn’t pay attention to me!"

Vivian’s mood shifted abruptly, and she leaned closer to Qiao Jun, her tone softening.

"You’re probably tired, aren’t you? You’ve been working so hard lately. Here..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box wrapped in delicate gold paper.

She opened it to reveal a batch of cookies and offered one to him.

"Mother made these for you. You have to try one!"

Qiao Jun glanced at the cookies but shook his head.

"I’m not hungry," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Vivian’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered.

"You’re always so stubborn. Just one, okay? It’s from Mother. She made them especially for you. You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?"

Her voice was saccharine sweet, laced with the kind of threat that left Qiao Jun with little choice.

With a sigh, he relented, taking a single cookie from the box.

He bit into it slowly, the overly sweet flavor clinging to his tongue unpleasantly.

Once finished, he handed the box back to her without a word. Vivian pouted again, but inwardly, she smirked.

Her mother’s instructions had been clear: one cookie was all it would take.

As they neared Aunt Mila’s mansion, Qiao Jun’s vision began to blur, and his body suddenly felt heavy and hot.

He loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket, the cool night air no longer enough to combat the strange heat coursing through him.

"You don’t look well," Vivian remarked, feigning concern. "Are you okay, Qiao Jun?"

"I’m fine," he replied hoarsely, though the sweat on his brow and the slight tremble in his hands betrayed his words.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Qiao Jun’s strength had waned significantly. He opened the door but stumbled slightly as he tried to step out.

Vivian was quick to grab his arm, her grip surprisingly firm for someone of her stature.

"You shouldn’t drive like this. Come inside and rest," she said, her voice dripping with false kindness.

"I’ll manage," Qiao Jun muttered, trying to shake her off, but his legs wobbled, and Vivian seized the opportunity to take control.

"No, I insist! Mother’s home, and she’ll want to see you. She’s been so worried about you."

Without waiting for his consent, she began to guide him toward the mansion.

He wanted to resist, but his body betrayed him, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Inside, the warm glow of the chandelier greeted them.

Aunt Mila stood at the base of the grand staircase, her hands clasped together as if she had been waiting for them.

Her expression lit up when she saw Qiao Jun.

"Qiao Jun, you’re here! Vivian, my dear, you’ve done well," Aunt Mila said, her tone warm and maternal.

Vivian helped Qiao Jun to the sofa, her face glowing with pride as she turned to her mother.

"I did just as you said. He ate the cookies, Mother."

Aunt Mila’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Good girl," she praised, patting Vivian on the shoulder.

Then, her gaze shifted to Qiao Jun, who was slumped on the sofa, his breathing shallow and his eyes half-lidded.

"You’ve done wonderfully, Vivian. Now, it’s time for the next step."

Vivian blinked, momentarily confused. "The next step?" she echoed.

Aunt Mila’s smile turned enigmatic, her tone soft yet commanding.

"Yes, my dear. You’ve done so much for him, for this family. But it’s not enough. If you want him to truly love you, you must seal the bond."

Vivian’s heart skipped a beat. "Seal the bond?" she repeated.

Aunt Mila leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"It’s a ritual, my darling. One that will ensure his heart belongs to you forever. All you have to do is be with him. Truly be with him."

Understanding dawned on Vivian, and her cheeks flushed.

"Mother, you mean...?"

"Yes," Aunt Mila confirmed, her smile unwavering.

"I can’t bear to see you suffer, Vivian. Qiao Jun is the man you love, and you deserve to have him by your side. This ritual will make that possible."

Tears sprang to Vivian’s eyes as she threw her arms around her mother.

"Thank you, Mother! Thank you so much! I knew you would understand. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes."

Aunt Mila patted her daughter’s back, her expression unreadable.

"I know you will, my dear. Now, go. The night won’t wait forever."

Vivian pulled back, her heart racing with anticipation.

She turned to Qiao Jun, who looked at her with hazy, unfocused eyes.

In that moment, she felt victorious, as if all the obstacles between them had finally been removed.

"Brother Jun," she murmured, reaching out to touch his face. "You’re mine now."

Behind her, Aunt Mila watched with a calculating gaze, her hands clasped tightly as she murmured under her breath.

The ritual was falling into place, and each step was executed flawlessly. Soon, her son would return, and all the sacrifices she had made would be worth it.

Aunt Mila observed Qiao Jun slouched on the sofa, his eyelids drooping as the drugged cookie began taking full effect.

She turned to one of the maids standing at attention near the entrance.

"Take him to the ceremonial room," she commanded. Her voice was soft but carried an edge that brooked no argument.

The servant nodded and moved forward, carefully pulling Qiao Jun to his feet.

His body was sluggish, his resistance minimal as they guided him toward the grand staircase leading to the second floor.

Vivian watched with eager anticipation, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"Vivian wear the dress I have chosen for you. It will help you cover during the intercourse process. A celestial master would be present during the process."

Her mother’s words about the ritual had her heart racing with both excitement and nervousness.

"Mother," she began hesitantly, "about the... the dress. Is it really necessary for the celestial master to be present?"

Aunt Mila’s smile was warm but firm.

"Yes, my dear. You don’t have to worry about modesty—the dress I’ve chosen will cover you enough to maintain your dignity while allowing the symbols to activate."

Vivian nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment,

"I understand. I’ll do whatever it takes."

"Good," Aunt Mila said approvingly. "Go upstairs and change. The ceremonial dress is in the wardrobe. It’s already prepared for you."

Vivian hesitated for a moment, then turned and hurried up the staircase, her heart pounding in her chest.

She was nervous, yes, but the thought of finally having Qiao Jun as hers filled her with a giddy sense of victory.

As soon as Vivian disappeared down the hall, Aunt Mila’s contented mood was interrupted by hurried footsteps descending the stairs.

She turned to see her husband, Uncle Miller, bounding down with an uncharacteristic energy.

His usually composed demeanor was replaced with excitement, his face flushed and his eyes bright.

"What is it, darling?" Aunt Mila asked, her curiosity piqued. "What has you in such a rush?"

Uncle Miller stopped in front of her, his hands gripping the banister as if to steady himself.

"It’s finally happening," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I’m going to defeat him."

Aunt Mila’s expression changed instantly, her eyes widening with delight.

"Him? You mean Philip?"

Uncle Miller nodded, his grin wide.

"Yes. After all these years, I’ve found the perfect opportunity. His defenses are weak, and I’ve secured the support I need. By tonight, he’ll be finished."

Aunt Mila clapped her hands together, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"Oh, this is wonderful news! I’ve been waiting for this moment as much as you have. Philip has been a thorn in our side for far too long. You’ve done marvelously, my dear."

Uncle Miller straightened, his pride evident in his posture.

"I couldn’t have done it without your support, Mila. You’ve kept everything in balance here while I worked on this. Once everything is over you, me, our daughter and son will go on a vacation together!"