Chapter 354: Makes me crave blood

Zoren Pierson might be a sickly man everyone knew or had heard about. Regardless of that, women in the upper echelon would always agree to a date with him. But right now, Patricia couldn’t help but see him as more than just a sickly man.

Zoren was a gentleman.

He was kind.

Not just the way he spoke, which was pleasant to the ear, but there was something regal in every little movement he made. Even his blinks seemed to exude nobility; the slight curl of his lips was attractive, and the way he looked at her made her feel special.

It was flattering, enough to make a woman’s heart swell with appreciation.

That was what Patricia felt from the moment she met his eyes tonight until now, as they walked through the pathways of this vast landscape. Glancing at her hand on his arm, she pursed her lips sheepishly.

"You’re a little old-fashioned, aren’t you?" she blurted out, only to get nervous when his brows rose. "Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it that way."

"Don’t you like old-fashioned?" he asked playfully. "I thought you preferred someone twenty years older."

Patricia chuckled. What was she supposed to say to that? She wasn’t sure.

"Of course, I don’t mind old-fashioned," she replied with a chuckle, playing it safe. "I just didn’t expect you to be such an old-fashioned gentleman... but in a good way. It’s flattering."

"Ah..."

Patricia heaved a sigh of relief, treading carefully. "Renren, you kept asking about me throughout dinner. How about you?" she inquired. "Won’t you share something with me? I’d love to hear about all your experiences over the past decade."

"There’s not much," he shrugged, snapping his eyes ahead. "It’s the same things over and over."

"Is that so?"

He cast her a sidelong glance. "Are you interested in what those recurring things are?"

"I’m always interested in you, Renren."

"Not long ago, I was in a car accident," he said abruptly, eyes fixed ahead. "It almost killed me. Fortunately, I was wearing a seatbelt, but the driver was in critical condition."

"What?"

"He was in a vegetative state and hasn’t regained consciousness until now," he muttered. "I feel bad for him, but I’m grateful that he’s been in the family long enough for his own to understand how dangerous it is to work under me."

Patricia’s smile faltered, studying Zoren’s side profile. Her mouth opened and closed, wanting to ask if he was joking because she hoped he was. However, there wasn’t a trace of jest in his voice or face.

"Before that, someone tried to poison me. They put it in my coffee. Fortunately, Benjamin didn’t drink it, or anyone else. Otherwise, I would have mourned for them," he continued in the same flat tone. "Though I drank half of it."

"What?"

The corner of his mouth curled into a proud smirk as he glanced at her. "It had no effect on someone who’s been on different drugs all his life."

"..."

Why did he sound so proud of that?!

Patricia looked at him with a mix of dread and shock. "Renren, did this really happen to you?" she asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"Mhm. Don’t you believe me?" he asked softly. "My family is so cruel, Patricia. They play a lot even when I’m not ready."

"..." Again, she was rendered speechless.

"Let’s continue walking," he said, taking a careful step forward. Patricia promptly followed his pace, gulping nervously.

’Haha, it’s probably not that serious, right?’ she wondered. ’I’ve never heard anything like this. Moreover, if it were serious, we would’ve heard about it since everything the Piersons do makes the news.’

Patricia mentally nodded, convincing herself Zoren wasn’t being serious. Or rather, she believed the situation wasn’t as bad as he made it sound. Zoren Pierson was the head of the Pierson Family. Who would dare go against him, right?

If only she knew...

"Then before that, I think I was shot with an unknown drug..." he added, humming as he recalled all the incidents he could remember. "... There was another one after that... right, I was also abducted. I almost got crushed by an antique bookshelf once. And then, another car accident."

Zoren kept listing everything as if he were simply recalling a grocery list.

"Renren..." Patricia let out a helpless chuckle. "All of that happened to you in the span of twelve years?"

"Oh, that’s probably over the span of two years."

"..." Patricia’s heart sank. "Are you serious?"

"Mhm."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, telling herself he was simply testing her. ’Wait, hang on,’ she told herself. ’If this is a test, is he seeing if I will stay with him? Even if it wasn’t, and if this is real, staying with him and knowing I’m on his side is like a beacon of hope for him, right?’

"Renren..." Patricia stopped and faced him, her expression sorrowful. "Why did this all happen to you? I thought you were the head of the Pierson family."

"Even the greatest empires experience revolts," he replied meaningfully. "It’s how it’s been before, and it’s still how it is today."

Her eyes softened, as if her heart ached for him. Slowly, she raised her hand, hesitating before touching his face. Summoning her courage, she cupped his face.

"Why are they doing this?" she asked quietly and softly.

Zoren raised his brows and glanced at the cheek she was touching. "Because when you’re at the top, people can only try to drag you down."

"They’re heartless, aren’t they?"

"Were they?" Slowly, he met her gaze. "Do you think?"

Patricia pressed her lips together and nodded. "They upset me," she murmured. "Don’t they upset you?"

"Not at all," he shook his head, raising his hand to touch the hand that was holding his face. "When I fought to get my seat at the table, I knew they wouldn’t stop. So, their schemes are something I expected. It doesn’t make me angry at all."

The corner of his mouth curved up as his hold on her tightened. "But do you know what makes me angry, Miss Miller?"

"Hm?" Her brows rose as she noticed how he slipped his fingers between hers before gripping her hand tightly. "Renren, my hand—"

Patricia’s breath hitched when Zoren suddenly pulled her hand closer. Slowly, he lowered his head and moved it nearer until his mouth was right beside her ear.

"What makes me angry," he stressed each syllable under his breath, his eyes sharp and glinting, "is when someone tries to taint the only good memory I have from then and now. It makes my blood boil, it makes me crave blood."