After the last class ended, Delson wasted no time. He immediately walked quickly out of the lecturer's room, his steps hurried, his mind filled with one name—Zeya. He didn't know when, but now Delson was completely driven crazy. He, who had always been known as a man who never wanted to be tied down, was now losing control just because of one woman. Usually he was the one toying with things, setting the distance, and drawing lines he never wanted to cross. But everything melted away when he met Zeya. Ironically, the woman was actually toying with him—or so Delson felt. And strangely, he was willing.
Delson couldn't find Zeya in his classroom. His eyes scanned every corner, but there was no sign of her. Without thinking, he immediately headed for the parking lot. Maybe, with luck, he could still catch up with her before she left. However, fate seemed to be playing a trick on him today. Instead of Zeya, he found Larin.
"Darling~," Larin called flirtatiously, following with light steps and a possessive smile.
The shout immediately drew a reaction from several other students in the parking lot. They cheered, chuckled, and even whistled teasingly. Delson halted in his tracks, narrowing his gaze sharply at Larin, who was now approaching confidently.
"Can you mind your boundaries? We're not officially engaged. Don't spread rumors that will mislead everyone," Delson said sharply, his voice almost threatening.
However, Larin smiled, as if the words hadn't hurt him in the slightest. She even coquettishly held Delson's arm. "I know... But our parents have already set the date, haven't they? You can probably refuse, but the final decision is up to Uncle Weather, isn't that right?"
Delson slapped her hand away harshly, his face turning cold and disgusted. To him, Larin was the opposite of Zeya. Too approachable, too self-assured, as if she were precious. Zeya, on the other hand, always maintained her boundaries, upheld her dignity, and never depended on anyone. That's precisely why Delson was infatuated. Because Zeya wasn't easy to have.
Suddenly, a voice came from behind them.
"Hey Rin, who picked up Zeya?" asked Linea, who was standing not far away, pointing to Zeya who was laughing happily with a grown man beside a luxury black car.
Larin turned casually and smiled, her eyes narrowing in satisfaction. "Oh, that's my sister's future husband. Luther Tate."
Delson froze. "What did you say?" he asked threateningly.
"Luther Tate," Larin repeated, looking at him in confusion. "Why? Do you know him?"
Delson glared at him, as if trying to stab him with it. "Watch your words. Respect me as your professor," he said coldly, before turning around and getting into the car.
The engine roared and the car sped out of the parking lot. Larin remained standing there, smiling broadly—a smile of satisfaction. To him, today was perfect. He felt on top of things, no matter what was at stake behind Luther Tate's name.
------
Delson sat tensely behind the wheel, staring straight ahead, following Luther's car as it cruised smoothly through the city streets from a distance. The afternoon air felt like it was pressing down on his chest, nothing compared to the burning heat within him. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and his foot unconsciously pressed harder on the gas pedal, following with rapid breaths, his heart pounding furiously as curiosity surged through his chest.
"How could she marry Luther?" he muttered quietly, filled with annoyance. His eyes narrowed, staring intently at the back of the luxury car as if he could see through the glass and see inside.
Does Zeya not know who Luther really is? Does she not know about his dark past? Or... does she know, but chooses to ignore it?
Delson shook his head slightly, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "No. He has to know. I have to tell him." His voice was soft but firm, as if he were now at war not only with reality, but also with destiny.
But irony gripped his throat. He couldn't even save himself from that foolish arranged marriage. He knew that if he refused to marry Larin, his father would easily play his final card—his mother. Delson hated that. He hated how his mother had always been his father's most deadly weapon of threat.
The car in front of him suddenly swerved into the courtyard of a five-star hotel. Delson immediately braked gently, squinting sharply at the luxurious hotel logo displayed prominently above the entrance.
"Huh? Why are they here?" he muttered suspiciously, his brows knitted together. Anger and curiosity mingled together, squeezing his chest. Could they be... staying overnight? What were they doing inside?
Delson's mind continued to wander, imagining things he didn't want to imagine. Zeya's happiness as she sat next to Luther. Her soft laugh. The way she looked at him. The light touch on his hand. Was it all real? Had Zeya really chosen him?
Delson was barely aware that his fingernails were digging into the skin of his own palms. He wanted out, wanted in, wanted to pull Zeya away. But all that remained was a wish. All he could do now was stare from afar—like a loser.
However, one thing was certain in his mind now: he would not remain silent. Not while Zeya was on the wrong side of the man.
Delson drove his car down the spiral ramp to the hotel basement, the engine's roar echoing off the cold, silent concrete walls. The dim lights from the ceiling cast long shadows on the cement floor. His heartbeat was as loud as the engine itself. His breathing was erratic, his chest rising and falling in a rough rhythm.
As soon as he saw Luther's car stop in one of the parking spaces, Delson immediately slowed down. He chose to stop a few meters behind him, far enough away to be invisible, but close enough to keep an eye on him. He turned off the engine, and now he could only sit silently behind the wheel, staring ahead through the tinted windows.
Luther's car door opened. He stepped out first—tall, handsome, and looking incredibly confident. Zeya followed, stepping lightly out of the passenger side with a broad smile on her face. It was a gentle, genuine smile, one Delson had only ever hoped would be for him.
Delson's heart felt like it was being squeezed. He tensed, his jaw clenched, his right hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the veins stood out. A burning sensation spread from his chest to the back of his neck. He didn't know if it was anger, jealousy, or an inexplicable hurt. But one thing was for sure, at that moment, he wanted to get out of the car and punch Luther in the face, regardless of the consequences.
But all she could do was sit there, frozen in silence, watching the two figures walk side by side, chatting lightly and laughing softly. Luther even leaned slightly toward Zeya, as if they were sharing a pleasant secret.
Zeya laughed. And Delson felt like he was hit by reality.
The two then walked slowly toward the private elevator that would take them to the hotel's main floor. Delson gripped the steering wheel again, this time more tightly. His breathing had turned into long gasps, trying to calm the increasingly uncontrollable turmoil.