Chapter 10

Instinct screamed to willingly kiss the beauty before him. But reason said something entirely different. Fortunately, Eugene was a person who knew how to suppress instinct and follow reason.

Just before their lips met, Eugene succeeded in placing his hand between them. Valentine's lips collided with his palm. The sensation was disconcertingly soft and stimulating.

Wrinkles formed between Valentine's brows as he was blocked just before the kiss. He looked as if he might pull out a gun and point it at Eugene's forehead at any moment.

"I feel like I might throw up from drinking too much."

Eugene hurriedly explained. Valentine stared at Eugene's eyes for a moment with furrowed brows before taking a step back. Eugene didn't miss the opportunity and quickly said, "Well then, goodbye," before hastily closing the door, locking it, and sliding the bolt. Not content with just that, he dragged a chair over and secured it under the doorknob. Hoping this would withstand at least two kicks.

After completing these measures, Eugene pressed his back against the wall right next to the door and monitored the situation outside. He didn't have the courage to put his eye to the peephole to check if the man was still there. The best he could do was to hold his breath and listen for any movement outside.

Had he already gone?

The moment he thought this, he sensed someone at the door. The sound of shoes stepping on the hallway floor could be heard. It paced back and forth in front of Eugene's door a few times before gradually fading away.

Haaa...

Eugene slid down to the floor with his back still against the wall. Angel, who had been quietly watching Eugene from his perch on the windowsill, finally meowed and approached with gentle steps.

"Angel."

Eugene tightly embraced Angel's plump body. In less than a second, Angel struggled. The cat hated being held tightly. When Eugene loosened his arms, Angel's struggling stopped. Looking at Angel's deep blue, mysterious eyes, Eugene recalled the murderer he had just been with.

Until now, he had never seen blue eyes as mysterious and beautiful as those of his chubby cat Angel. But those eyes. Those damn blue eyes. The image of those eyes was stuck in his mind and wouldn't go away. Come to think of it, Ricardo Luciano had called Valentine "Angel."

"...Angel."

Eugene murmured, overlapping Valentine's eyes with those of his cat Angel. As if sensing that the name just called wasn't meant for him, the hyper-sensitive cat jumped off Eugene's lap and went away.

"What happens now?"

Eugene asked the empty air, still crouched against the wall. But there was no one to answer, and Eugene himself couldn't find an answer.

He had witnessed a murder, performed oral sex on the murderer, met the murderer's grandfather, gone to the murderer's candy store, almost received candy and money as gifts from the murderer, and been escorted home by the murderer. And he had almost been kissed.

Would this ridiculous, jumbled, incomprehensible story end here? Or would it continue?

Eugene got up and walked to the bed. He immediately collapsed onto the bed and pulled the sheet over his head.

The gun barrel pressed against the back of his head. A .44 caliber Desert Eagle. Known as the "hand cannon" because its power is closer to a cannon than a pistol. If hit at close range in the back of the head with this, one's skull would be shattered, making it difficult to find traces of the body above the neck.

Leo, facing the crisis of having his head completely blown off, swallowed the panini he had been chewing and turned his head back. Valentine, who had the gun barrel pressed against Leo's head, was smiling menacingly. He only smiled like that when he was extremely angry.

"After a date, when you escort someone home, you're supposed to kiss them?"

Claudio Luciano, more commonly known by his nickname Valentine, growled in his characteristically calm, deep voice.

"You couldn't do it?"

Leo asked with wide eyes, as if greatly surprised. Valentine's gaze grew even fiercer.

"I couldn't. Just before I could, he blocked me with his hand, said he felt sick, and ran into his house with scared squirrel eyes."

Wheeeww-

Leo fearlessly whistled, despite having a gun barrel against his head. It was a tribute to Eugene Biscetti. Whatever his feelings, Valentine was a man whose looks alone could put Hollywood's finest male actors to shame multiple times over. Anyone who rejected a kiss from such a man deserved praise.

"That's strange."

Leo soon muttered with puzzled eyes. The gun barrel pressed firmly into the back of Leo's head. It meant to quickly explain what was strange. While eyeing the panini he had bought while waiting for Valentine, Leo began to speak. The panini from the Italian restaurant on the first floor of Eugene Biscetti's apartment building. What an incredible taste, he thought.

"While driving, I noticed that every time Eugene Biscetti looked at your face, he seemed mesmerized. Judging by his eyes, he seemed completely smitten with you. I'm surprised he rejected the kiss."

Leo, his eyes fixed on the panini, paused briefly before adding:

"Then again, considering he witnessed a hit just yesterday, it makes sense."

Even if Eugene Biscetti was infatuated with Valentine's face, he was still an ordinary person. He wouldn't have the courage to kiss a murderer the day after witnessing a murder scene. Or conversely, he might be brave enough to reject a murderer's kiss.

Valentine's eyes narrowed. He jabbed the gun barrel hard into Leo's head, as if he might shove it through. Leo's head tilted at an angle from the pressure.

In truth, Valentine had every reason to be furious. For the first time in his life, he had gone on a proper date with someone. He had formally introduced him to his family before the date, almost given him gifts to express his feelings, and politely escorted him to his front door afterward. He had followed formal procedures, respecting the other's honor to the fullest. Of course, whether Eugene Biscetti also thought of that meeting as a date was unknown.

"It was only the first date. Most people don't kiss on the first date."

"Then on which date do they kiss?"

Valentine said "kiss," but his nuance suggested "sex." So he was captivated by his looks but not mentally gone enough to jump into a kiss. Leo calculated inwardly. Of course, no matter how much Leo thought about it, he couldn't know how Eugene Biscetti would react. If he got this wrong too, Valentine might unhesitatingly blow Leo's head off. So the correct answer was to not give a precise answer.