Chapter 121: Do you plan to cut my tongue.
Just like every other sunny morning, the golden rays of the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the two individuals lying peacefully in bed—blissfully unaware of how close they had become.
Outside, birds flapped their wings, some soaring through the sky while others perched nearby, singing melodies known only to them.
Amidst the morning beauty, the entrance door to the sitting room suddenly swung open, revealing a man dressed in a gray shirt and white trousers.
The door to Augustine’s mansion wasn’t one that just anyone could enter—it required a password, a code shared only with family members and those he trusted.
As the young, handsome man stepped inside, a warm smile played on his lips while his sharp eyes swept across the eerily quiet sitting room.
’Strange... why is this place so silent?’ he mused, his brows knitting slightly in curiosity.
Brushing the thought aside, he strode toward the kitchen island, setting down the neatly packed bags he had brought along.
The faint rustling of paper broke the silence, but still, there was no sign of anyone.
’I hope he loves it,’ the young man mused, a satisfied smile curling his lips as he made his way toward the staircase.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he furrowed his brows. ’Could it be that he has already left for work?’
The thought nagged at him as he ascended, each step bringing him closer to confirmation.
Reaching the top, he hesitated briefly before gripping the bedroom door handle.
With a quiet inhale, he pushed it open.
As the bedroom door slid open, the young man’s eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp.
’Oh my God!’ he screamed internally, his heart pounding against his ribs.
Moving with the caution of a thief, he tiptoed toward the bed, his curiosity outweighing his better judgment.
With slow, deliberate movements, the mysterious young man slid his phone out of his back pocket, his fingers trembling slightly as he opened the camera app.
A wicked grin tugged at his lips.
’This is gold.’ He mused to himself before swallowing hard.
’Please don’t wake up...’ he pleaded silently, his heart racing as he positioned the camera just right.
The screen displayed the perfect shot—Augustine and Charles, tangled together in sleep, their faces peaceful, their bodies unconsciously close.
Holding his breath, he pressed the capture button.
Click.
The soft yet loud sound echoed through the silent room.
’Fuck! I’m screwed!’
Augustine’s eyes snapped open in an instant, and without hesitation, he grabbed the young man’s wrist in a firm grip. "Wh... why are you here?" he seethed, sliding out of bed.
Feeling the shift in movement, Charles stirred, his eyelashes fluttering a few times before his drowsy gaze landed on Augustine.
"Ohh... you... you!" Charles exclaimed pointing his index finger at the man who Augustine was firmly holding.
"Hey! Why are you both acting like if I’m bad news?" he scoffed, yanking his wrist free from Augustine’s grip. "I already apologized for what happened at the hospital—what more do you two lovebirds want?"
His lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Or do you plan to cut my tongue out before accepting my apology?"
Derrick is the friend of Augustine and weeks back while Charles had been admitted to the hospital after being abducted by Augustine’s mother, Derrick was the one who lied to Augustine that Charles was dead.
Although, his lie wasn’t intended, but ever since then, Augustine has been mad at Derrick.
"Derrick!" Augustine’s voice dropped to a cold, warning tone.
His sharp gaze locked onto Derrick. "Why are you here? And more importantly..."
He took a step forward, eyes narrowing. "Why the hell did you take a picture of me and my Charles?"
Augustine jaw clenched as he waited for an answer.
The audacity of this man—barging in, snapping photos like a paparazzo on a scandal hunt.
Derrick sneered, tilting his head with a playful glint in his eyes. "Is it such a crime to have a cute picture of my dear friend and his lover?" He purred, his voice dripping with amusement.
Then, as if just realizing something, his grin widened. "And earlier, you said ’My Charles—ugh, that’s so damn cute."
A rosy blush crept up Derrick’s cheeks, his smile turning downright mischievous as he clasped his hands together dramatically.
Charles bit into his lower lip, and for a split second, a faint blush dusted his cheeks before he quickly shook his head, composing himself.
Sliding out of bed, Charles glare at Derrick with a cold gaze.
"Was it Mrs. Wales who sent you here?" he asked, his voice sharp and laced with suspicion.
Charles knew all too well that Mrs. Wales had a long list of plans—most of which didn’t bode well for him.
Hearing the question of Charles, both Augustine and Derrick averted their gaze over to Charles. "Augustine’s mother hates me."
"Why are you asking? Did my mom threaten you again?"
Derrick and Augustine have both spoken at the same time, and Charles was wise enough to grab the words of both of them.
He wrapped his hands across his stomach as he swallowed hard. "No... your mom didn’t." Charles lied, raising his right hand to crash the back of his neck. "The question just spilled out of my mouth."
He added.
"Ohh," Augustine mumbled
"Yeah," Charles purred, his voice barely above a whisper. "Umm... I’ll leave you two to catch up while I go freshen up."
Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heels and hurried toward the bathroom, his movements swift, almost as if he were escaping.
Augustine sighed. "Come on, Derrick. We need to talk," he stated, grabbing Derrick by the arm and pulling him out of the bedroom without giving him a chance to protest.
As they descended the stairs, Derrick abruptly shoved Augustine’s hand away. "I’ll only agree to talk to you after I’ve eaten my breakfast," he spat, a mischievous glint in his eyes because deep down, Derrick have an hidden agenda to accomplish.