Chapter 107: Chapter 107

ALAND

I casually followed Hunter into a café near the art exhibit. The sound of the coffee machine whirring and the warm aroma of roasted coffee beans greeted me. Hunter Abraham stood at the counter, placing his order.

After that, we ended up standing in line together. I positioned myself right beside him, keeping it low-key.

“Didn’t expect you to be part of something like this,” I said coldly, not even glancing his way.

Hunter turned slightly, his expression unreadable. “How did you get here?” he replied, his tone quiet but firm.

I shrugged lightly, as if his question wasn’t worth answering. “You don’t seem surprised to see me,” I added, smirking faintly, the kind of smile that was more of a jab. “Especially considering how you sold me and two of our friends out to the Red Dragon King—Luke Draken.”

Hunter’s face hardened, but he quickly composed himself. “Aland, you misunderstood. I didn’t—”

I cut him off with a small, scoffing laugh. “Ah, the classic Abraham way—always finding a way to get what you want, no matter the cost.”

I turned to look at him, my cold gaze meeting his. “But there’s one thing you’ll never get, even if the whole world bows at your feet: Jonea. She’ll never be yours. Even if I’m not the main player, I’ll make damn sure she never chooses you.”

My words hung in the air like barbs. Grabbing my freshly made coffee order, I turned to leave, but Hunter’s voice stopped me mid-step.

“What if Jonea knew what you’re hiding? Would you still be so confident in your words then?”

I froze for a moment, not turning back. I knew he was trying to get under my skin, to shake my resolve. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. With deliberate steps, I walked out of the café.

Returning to the art exhibit, I spotted Jonea from a distance. She was standing in front of a large canvas, setting up her painting supplies. A small smile crossed my face. She always got lost in her own world when working on her art.

But my focus shifted when I noticed Owen nearby, speaking to her with a serious expression.

I approached quietly, holding two cups of coffee. “Hey,” I greeted with a warm smile I’d perfected to hide my true feelings.

Jonea turned, looking slightly surprised. “Aland?”

“I brought coffee for you guys,” I said softly, handing her one of the cups. “How do you want me to pose for your painting today? Should I take off all my clothes?”

Jonea’s face flushed. She reached out to cover my mouth. “Aland, are you teasing me?”

Before I could respond, I felt Owen’s sharp gaze on me. He stood there, defensive, like a wolf guarding his territory. I could see the tension in his posture, but I chose to ignore it. I wasn’t here to start a fight—not this time.

Things took a turn, though, when Hunter strolled over, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Aland,” he began, “I heard you’ve been traveling the world, honing your martial arts skills. You’ve been away from Sapphire Blue for a while. What are you now? A professional fighter?”

I glanced at him briefly, then shifted my focus back to Jonea, who seemed uneasy between the three of us. “Fighter? I’d call it more of a delayed hobby,” I replied, keeping my tone calm.

Hunter chuckled, though it was clearly forced. “Aland, you always know how to make things more interesting.”

I gave him a thin smile, uninterested in playing along. Instead, I focused on Jonea, who was visibly anxious. She shifted slightly closer to Owen, seeking some form of comfort.

Owen finally broke his silence. “Alright, enough. We’re all here to support this art exhibit, not for anything else. Can we just focus on that?”

Hunter raised his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. I’m just here to appreciate the art and, naturally, to support Jonea.”

I resisted the urge to comment on his words. Instead, I stepped back, giving Jonea some space. “I’ll be over at the exhibit area. Call me when you’re ready,” I said, walking away.

Before I left completely, I glanced back at Jonea. There was something in her eyes—a spark of uncertainty that made me certain I had to stay by her side, no matter what. Whether the enemy was Hunter, Owen, or even myself.

*

JONEA

I clutched my palette and brushes, wandering through the bustling art exhibit. Around me, students and professors were busy setting up their booths. Everyone seemed excited, and so was I. Today, I was going to paint Aland, my model.

Even though I’d often painted his face from memory, having him pose in person was a rare opportunity.

After a few minutes of searching the main hall, I realized Aland wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “Where is he?” I murmured, continuing to search.

I ventured to a quieter area outside the exhibit hall, hoping to find him.

Then, I heard shouting from one corner of the garden. Peeking from behind a large tree, I saw a fight.

It was Hunter—he was being beaten by a young man I didn’t recognize. Two other guys stood nearby, probably the first guy’s friends. Hunter wasn’t fighting back, merely dodging, even as punches rained down on him.

“You freak! Why even start a fight if you’re just gonna lose?” the guy shouted angrily, delivering one final punch to Hunter’s face.

“Hey! Don’t leave! Hit me again!” Hunter yelled hoarsely, but the guy and his friends walked away, probably freaked out by his behavior.

Hunter slumped to the ground, battered and bruised, a bitter smile playing on his lips. He laughed softly, as if relishing the pain.

I was about to walk away and mind my own business, but something held me back.

“Hunter…” I approached cautiously, stopping a few steps away from him. “You’re hurt. You should get some help.”

Hunter looked up, his eyes lighting up despite the blood on the corner of his lips. “Jonea? Is that you?” he asked hoarsely, then suddenly grabbed my hand.

“I was just passing by,” I said, trying to pull my hand away, but he held it tightly. His gaze was deep, filled with emotions I couldn’t quite understand.

“Are you drunk?” I asked, catching a faint scent of alcohol. “In the middle of the day?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he bowed his head, clutching my hand as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. His breaths were heavy, ragged. And then I saw it—tears.

Hunter Abraham was crying.

“Hunter…?”

“I like you, Jonea.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but loud enough to make my heart skip a beat. “I know you like Aland. I know I should stop hoping. But still…”

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with desperation. “What do I have to do to make you look at me? Is it too late? Was there never a chance for me to begin with?”

I froze, unsure of what to say. His words were raw, full of emotion. It was hard to believe this was the same Hunter Abraham I thought I knew.

He let go of my hand with a defeated sigh, bowing his head again. I stared at him for a moment, feeling a pang of sympathy. I instinctively reached out, wanting to pat his head and offer some comfort. But I stopped myself.

I couldn’t.

If I did, it would only lead to more misunderstandings, give him false hope.

I stepped back, trying to regain my composure. “Hunter, you’re drunk. You should go back to the hotel before you do something you’ll regret.”

He looked up, his expression pained. I turned away, ready to leave even though my heart felt heavy.

But then he grabbed my hand again, stronger this time.

“Jonea,” he said in a low, almost pleading voice. “This isn’t a mistake.”

I froze, trapped by the intensity of his gaze. My heart pounded loudly, so hard I was sure he could hear it. I didn’t know what was scarier—his words, or the way they made me feel.

I swallowed hard, trying to say something, but no words came out. What was happening?

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if the next step I took would be the right one.