If I slipped up and revealed anything, I'd be dead for sure.
I put on an air of nobility, lightly touching the food with my fork but not eating right away. Captian sat across from me with his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knee, not looking like he intended to eat either. He tilted his head slightly, and when his gaze landed on me, it felt loaded with some deeper meaning.
"Why aren't you eating?" he asked.
I jumped a little. The real reason I wasn't eating was because I didn't know how to eat this properly. "I… I'm not hungry yet. I'll eat in a bit."
"Mm."
Captian picked up his knife and fork and began cutting the steak. His movements were unbelievably graceful, like some mysterious nobleman in an ancient castle. It was impossible not to watch.
The steak smelled amazing. As soon as his knife cut in, the juices flowed out in a rush. I licked my lips, suddenly feeling extremely hungry. In the end, I couldn't resist anymore and started imitating the way he cut his steak. I had to admit, my learning ability was pretty impressive just one look and I'd copied him almost perfectly. On a scale of a hundred, I'd give myself at least an eighty.
Captian raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that I could manage it so well.
I quickly cut the steak into neat pieces. I'd thought it wouldn't taste like much, but the moment the meat hit my tongue, my eyes curved with bliss. It was so good. No wonder some people loved this kind of life turns out being pampered and indulged felt really, really great.
To hell with all that "reserved and noble" nonsense. Right now I only wanted to eat, eat, and eat some more. Ideally, I'd eat until Captian went bankrupt.
He watched me quietly, his expression impassive, but his brows drew together—clearly displeased with my way of eating. I couldn't care less. If my eating habits could make him lose interest in me, that would be perfect. Once he got tired of me, he'd let me go, and I could run as far and as fast as I wanted. Wouldn't that be wonderful?
The gentle piano piece came to an end. The waiter at the piano was about to start another song when Captian waved him off, signaling him to leave. The waiter didn't dare disobey; he got up and quietly slipped away.
Without the soft music, the Western restaurant suddenly became very quiet. The only sound left was me chewing. I immediately sensed something was off and put down my fork, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Captian was still staring at me. His dark eyes held no visible expression, but they pinned me in place like a bottomless abyss. In that moment, I felt completely exposed, as if he could see straight through me. I shrank in on myself, my heart pounding, feeling like my courage was about to collapse.
What was happening? I'd been enjoying my meal just moments ago, why had the atmosphere suddenly shifted like this? It felt like we'd dropped straight into hell.
Had my crude way of eating given me away? Had I accidentally shown that I wasn't really the Bailey family's daughter?
"Mister Anderson…" I licked my lips nervously, but I couldn't quite lick away the smear of steak sauce at the corner of my mouth.
He seemed to take in every tiny movement I made. His eyes darkened suddenly, even taking on a faint heat. I bit down on my lip, feeling like I was sitting on hot coals, standing in the middle of a fire.
Then, as if under some spell, this wolf of a man leaned toward me and reached out, wiping the bit of steak sauce from the corner of my lips.
I felt the warmth of his fingers and my eyes flew wide. My whole body trembled, my cheeks burning so hot it felt like they could scorch someone too hot, like I was being roasted alive.
Captian looked at the sauce on his fingers… and to my horror, he lifted his hand and slowly licked it clean. The move was so suggestive it left me speechless.
My mind went blank. What the hell is wrong with this lunatic? Had he seriously just… licked that? Didn't he think it was disgusting?
I turned my face away, not knowing what to do with my hands. All I could think about was that one moment just now—it made my entire skin crawl.
Captian tapped the table lightly, his cold, dangerous gaze resting on me, his tone carrying layers of meaning. "Bailey must have taught you quite a lot. You can play the piano, can't you?"
"Huh?" I had no idea how to answer that.
I couldn't play but I was sure An Định Nhiên could. Rose was the one the Baileys had carefully raised and trained, accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I was just some wildflower from the countryside. How could I possibly know any of that?
But I couldn't tell him the truth. I could only nod stiffly. "I… kind of know how."
Captian watched me and said casually, "Then go play something for me."
My lips parted, my face draining of color in an instant.
Play for him? He said it so lightly, but I couldn't play the piano at all. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to pull this off?
A dreadful realization crept up on me, this probably hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment idea on his part. He'd planned this from the start. First he brought me to this fancy Western restaurant. Then he ordered expensive steak I'd never tasted before, letting me lower my guard as I enjoyed it. After that, he suddenly asked me to play the piano. This entire sequence step after step felt like one of his traps.
What was his goal? Had he already noticed something and now wanted to test me?
The thought made me tremble all over. My face went as pale as paper.
"You don't want to play for me?" he asked. When I still hadn't answered after a long moment, his expression shifted like a sudden storm rolling in. The air around us turned dark and violent.
Terrifying. It felt like he could snap my neck the very next second.
I was on the verge of tears. If I could play, I'd happily play a thousand pieces. The problem was, I couldn't.
I looked up at him pleadingly, my clear eyes threatening to spill over at any moment. "Mr. Anderson, my hand hurts a bit today. Could I… not play?" I blinked a few times, forcing myself to look pitiful. "It hurts a lot. I can barely lift it."
My voice was soft and sweet, with a hint of a whine, gentle and syrupy enough to melt stone.
Internally, I wanted to slap myself. I never imagined there would come a day when I'd have to imitate those fawning, coquettish women I hated, acting cute and clingy just to survive. How shameless. But for the sake of my life… well, goodbye dignity.
Captian stared at me. Can't even lift your hand, yet she just cut up steak like a champion and ate happily this whole time?
He didn't call me out. He simply said, lightly, "Fine."
For a moment, I didn't even process what I'd heard. Then my face lit up with joy. "When my hand can move again, I'll play something for you, Mr. Anderson."
"All right." He gently brushed his thumb over his lips, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes turning unreadably deep.
The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to smack myself. I really didn't know how to play the piano, so why had I promised that? Was I digging my own grave? Was I supposed to secretly learn in the meantime now?
Captian watched me, noticing how my expression shifted from happiness to confusion, from confusion to despair in just a few seconds. Changing faces as quickly as flipping a pancake. Interesting indeed.
"Keep eating," he said, pointing at the steak on my plate. Even though I'd been devouring it in a crude way, bordering on vulgar, somehow watching me eat made the food seem more appetizing to him.
"Mm…" I pressed my lips together. The steak on the plate had already gone cold, the flavor fading. I didn't want to eat anymore.
He seemed to notice this too and called the waiter over, asking for a fresh, hot steak to be prepared and brought out.
In an instant, the atmosphere at the table sank into silence. Even the music had ceased. Only the sound of our breathing remained, weaving through the heavy air.
I felt increasingly restless. I really couldn't stand this eerie atmosphere any longer.