Chapter Seventy-Seven: Slitting throats

"You're such a foodie." He mumbled.

"Not, I just enjoy food. Sometimes I hate eating, you know, though most of the time my cravings are not satisfied. But how can I ask the kitchen staff to cook all over again just to satisfy my random cravings? Sometimes I get scared and think I'm pregnant, but that's just my irregular period of speaking. *sigh* Being a woman sucks. Tell me how it feels like to have a dick? Hm? Does it feel weird having something hanging down between your thighs?" She shook her head as she continued to ramble about many things.

"This must be one symptom." His lips twitched, realizing she would usually ramble on like that while eating.

"And you're a sweet tooth." She finally got back on topic.

"At least I know to admit it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey does Rowena die in this?" She changed the topic again.

James found it hard to keep up.

"No, the witch lives till the end. She becomes the new ruler of hell after that."

Clair sent him another glare.

"Thank you! I don't remember asking for a spoiler, but thank you so much!" Her sarcasm, a simple display of her annoyance.

"You asked me if she died, I responded." He gave her a smug smile in return,

"A simple yes or no would have done the job. Tsk tsk."

"I hate the people who give spoilers without permission the most."

"Hate me all you want." He responded.

'Who knew she could act so cute?' He rolled his eyes inwardly, and did not even realize what he was thinking.

And even if he had some self-awareness upon his thoughts, he couldn't deny them. There she was stuffing herself with food and sitting on the couch with a cute angry expression. Despite the maturance in her features over the years, she still had a few that made her simply adorable. If only she weren't so cold.

Clair fell silent as she continued to watch the series, ignoring the prick who kept spoiling her favorite series.

She glanced at James after a few minutes. She noticed he was still working.

She can be a workaholic sometimes, but working at home on her period was a sin in her book! A horrible one!

Anyway, she didn't understand. If it were her, she would prefer going to her quiet study room to work, instead of a living room with a very distracting tv.

But it's not like James had an answer to that either, he too didn't know why he stayed. Imagining himself in a silent Clair-less office made him feel a sense of loss. Was he a sadist that enjoyed spoiling the fun of her series as he worked?

Is that what he was? Is that who he became?

He could only facepalm!

"I love being rich. I can purchase all the dramas, books, and merch I want." She smiled happily.

"And food!"

"Hmm."

She raised a brow at him, realizing he was still listening to her despite being busy with work.

"Did you hear? I earned ten thousand more than you today."

"I did, I'll make twice as much tomorrow thank you for your concern."

Rolling her eyes, she checked her bank account and started counting numbers, making up plans to make more than him tomorrow.

"The numbers are in my favor. By the end of the week, I'll have northern Vic to myself. The land will be all mine, and you'll lose to me once again."

"Is winning to me so rare that you get excited over such little things?" He countered.

With a humph, Clair picked up some of her snacks and shut the tv off.

"I'm going to leave before I strangle you." She humphed again and walked up the stairs.

Once again, a sense of loss overwhelmed James.

Loss and confusion.

"Come back." She heard him say.

"Nope, I hate you."

"Just come back already. I want to discuss something with you."

With a deep sigh, she took her seat on the sofa and crossed her arms, "What?"

"Since the tea I chose differed from yours, they served it with a different pot. The designs are often similar and the maid mistook it for the one sent to my mother every morning. Nothing harmful was in it except some herbs to help strengthen the body, which smell like poisons used in the extreme north." He explained this morning's situation.

"So that was it?"

"Yes." He replied.

"I see." She smiled 'sweetly' and walked towards the pencil holder at the end of the coffee table. Picking up a black ink pen, she removed the tap and revealed a small sharp blade which she pointed at his throat.

"I slit the throats of liars. Is that the way you want to die?" She asked her voice, sending a warning. He would either speak or die, that simple.

James was more focused on the fact that she was straddling him. Her knees on his thighs and her face only inches away from his.

Somehow, he placed his palm on her waist, but instead of pushing her away; he brought her closer.

Her scent attacked his nose, and her body heat attacked his.

"Clair." He lifted his eyes to meet hers, hoping she would understand the position she had put him in.

She smiled calmly as a drop of blood tainted the sharp and clean design of the blade, not realizing her thigh was pressing against something she didn't mean to touch.

James pushed his throat closer. Maybe that would wake him up from the lust taking over all his senses.

Is this the self-control he was so proud of?

Now he looked like a total idiot.

God have mercy on him!

Here he was thinking of all the different ways he could devour her, and yet she was pointing a blade at his throat, threatening him with death.

Clair stiffened when she realized the eyes staring at her. She recognized that look; it was one of a predator and her…

She was the prey!

She swallowed and her hold on the blade-slash-pen loosed. Her urge to get answers off him wavered as she got closer to drowning in that hot, seductive gaze.

Jame sighed, and he swiftly turned their positions, locking her beneath him on the couch.

"Will you agree on having a proper conversation? You don't need to threaten me with death every five minutes you know?" His voice is low and husky,

"Sorry…" She lowered her eyes and turned her attention to the vase with flowers across the room.

Yes, suddenly that boring vase was a lot more interesting!

He held her arms above her head, keeping the blade far away from him.

Her lips twitched, "Start talking." She tried to force an indifferent tone of her voice but it only came out as a whisper,

"First, forgive me for trying to deceive you."

"Well, yeah, if you're going to lie, at least I do it properly. Your mother is still in this city why the hell, would the servants prepare her morning tea? Do you take me for an idiot Jame Lewis fucking Davis?" Finally, she gained her composure and glared at him, tightening her hold on the blade-slash-pen.

He pursed his lips, admitting he was in the wrong, but he would not risk letting her arms go.

"I lied because I didn't want to upset you. My mother sent the recipe for the tea. She wanted to know if you would notice, another test. Thankfully, it would just knock you out, nothing too serious."

"I apologize on her behalf. Her extreme measures are completely unreasonable."