EVERLASTING (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 16/163: A Ball of Encounters

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I blinked at him. "Huh?" 

He turned away from me at that, taking another long drag from his cigar and a gulp from his Whiskey glass. "You are among the few people who did not recognize me until I told you for myself." A slightly ironic chuckle escaped him, "Someway somehow I'm always identified because I look a lot like him."

Now let me clarify something, his tone was no joking tone, neither was it smooth.

It had a hint of grudge that I could tell so clearly.

I wet my lips, "You look like both your brother and father. Sorry but you guys have invincible family genes." I pointed out bluntly. 

His lips twitched and he smirked in my direction, giving me a good deal of sight of his perfectly lined white teeth and his cheek dimples. Wow, they share the dimples too.

His eyes roamed over me, devouring me, putting me under thorough observation. 

I fidgeted under his look, as the thought of how observed I felt since arriving here hit me. 

A small, grudging chuckle escaped me. "So, I'm supposing you dislike me as well, thinking I'm the reason for re-igniting the father-son feud after all these years." I turned away from him and gazed into the night void.

From beside me, he shrugged smoothly, "Nah, I don't really care." 

I blinked and turned to eye him curiously. 

He had such an intimidating presence with so much mystery surrounding him.

He placed his cigar between his teeth which made his words hold some muff."Just because you were that single match thrown on all of the Kerosene that has been building up for years doesn't mean you hold any blame. If anything this household has been fucked up for years." He voiced coolly. 

I could understand what he was pointing at: the cold war that had been going on between the father and the son since Reina's incident. 

Somehow, all the household knew that Rickard Ellington Conway had come back for revenge back then.

Even the father himself realized revenge can be such a miraculous motive to get his son to operate under his rules. 

I felt the aura get tense and heavy, and so decided to simply shrug off the topic. 

"So you're a physiotherapist, your brother had told me?" I smiled softly at him.

He lit his second cigar since I'd arrived, and eyeing the ashtray next to him, I saw around six squashed cigarette buds. 

Wow, a heavy smoker. 

He nodded and took a long drag from his cigarette. 

I wrinkled my nose at the smell and a small cough escaped me. 

Yep, I was still kind of allergic to the smell. 

Fixing him with my chocolate orbs, I kept my soft smile at him, and shot him with the very typical comment that any physician who smoked had definitely heard at least once in his lifetime: "Considering you're a health practitioner, you certainly are aware of the effects of excessive smoking on your health. So why are you such a heavy smoker?" I arced a brow at him. 

He let out a low slightly pained chuckle as he shook his head, clearly having heard this statement before.

But then he extended his hand which held the cigarette before him, as he let the ashes fall through the air from the balcony.