CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER-27. (A WALKING PUZZLE BOX).

A crease formed between his eyebrows as he asked, confusion clearly evident in his tone, "What do you mean?"

I could sense the tension radiating from his body.

Truth to be told, I never thought there could be another side to his cold mask. Maybe I never came close enough... or maybe he never let me.

And now, with him standing this close, looking at me like he actually wanted an answer, I almost hated how it made my chest ache.

God, why did it have to be him asking this?

If it were anyone else, I would’ve brushed it off with a sarcastic remark, maybe even laughed it away.

But with Dave... I couldn’t. His gaze had this dangerous weight to it, like whatever I said next would brand itself into his memory forever.

I knew I should keep quiet. I knew that giving him this piece of myself would only give him another weapon to use against me later.

But the words were already clawing their way up my throat, and for once, I was too tired to swallow them back down.

I opened my mouth and said it without hesitation.

"I want to become a writer." The words slipped off my mouth. In that moment, I just did not reveal the reason, but my very own dream which I hid from everyone. Even from him.

Until now.

His eyes didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch.

It was like I’d just handed him a loaded gun and he was deciding whether or not to pull the trigger.

For a long moment, the silence pressed on my ears, heavy and suffocating. I could almost hear my own heartbeat echoing inside my skull.

Then, slowly, his head tilted, his gaze sharpening in a way that made me want to step back—but my pride glued my feet to the ground. "What does that have to do with this matter?"

I realized he did not understand the meaning correctly, so without waiting another second, I explained it further, "I want to become a writer, but if you reveal our relationship, then everything I achieve would be considered as your help."

His eyebrows shot up, indicating he finally understood what I was trying to say, which made me sigh in relief internally.

I was sure that he would not have any counterattack for this one because he himself struggled on his own.

Though his father and grandfather did not agree with him but that did not stop them from pulling some strings for him to grow.

This included signing him into a few films, advertising offers, and even setting up a whole play about a famous producer giving him a break, seeing his audition.

Yeah, I myself thought it would be pretty executed in a filmy (dramatic) way.

But as expected, when Dave realized why everyone was realizing his talent all of a sudden, he investigated.

And when the press accused him of getting a free pass into the industry because of his family name. He hadn’t screamed or thrown things or defended himself.

He’d just gone quiet, too quiet, and the next thing anyone knew, every project with his name on it had been dropped.

Contracts torn.

Calls unanswered.

The man cut his own wings rather than fly with someone else’s wind beneath him.

And that’s exactly why I thought this argument was bulletproof.

If anyone could understand the suffocating weight of having your achievements credited to someone else’s influence, it was Dave.

I expected him to at least nod, maybe step back, maybe even drop the subject altogether, and the very first time, what I expected did happen.

His eyebrows shot up, just a flicker, but enough to tell me he’d finally caught on to what I was trying to say.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I could almost feel the knot in my stomach loosening, and felt as if a big weight was taken off my shoulders.

He didn’t have to say, "I understand."

Dave was not the type to hand out those kinds of reassurances like candy. But I knew him well enough...well enough to know that this silence was not ignorance.

It was understanding... just wrapped in that maddening, unreadable expression of his. It was not something surprising from him.

So yes, I knew exactly what that flicker in his eyes meant. He got it.

My body eased, only a fraction, but enough for me to breathe without feeling like I was swallowing knives.

He didn’t press me further. He didn’t ask if there were other reasons, though God knew there were too many to count.

He shifted his weight, hands sliding casually into his pockets. The movement looked effortless, but I knew it was a choice Dave never made without thinking.

His gaze was still locked on me, steady and searching, but no longer sharp enough to pierce through me.

And then he said, quietly, almost as if it wasn’t meant for me to hear, "I see."

That was it. No speech. No lecture. Just two words.

But those two words sank into me like warm water into frozen skin. He wouldn’t have said them if he didn’t mean them.

I didn’t smile, smiling would be too much, too revealing but the tension in my shoulders eased enough that I didn’t feel like I was standing in front of a firing squad anymore.

Still, I kept my tone neutral. "Good."

He tilted his head slightly, and there was this pause, long enough for me to feel the air shift between us.

I thought for a second that he might try to twist my words into something else, to pull me back into an argument I’d just barely escaped.

But instead, he simply studied me for another beat, his expression unreadable again.

God, he could be infuriating. A walking puzzle box with no instructions.

Without another word, he turned slightly, his gaze flicking toward the door like something outside had caught his attention.

I knew it was just his way of stepping back from the conversation without actually leaving.