My CEO Boss Is A Masked Internet Sensation
Chapter 52: Are They Faking It?

Chapter 52: Are They Faking It?

(Arata)

After the disastrous morning, Karsten’s mood didn’t get better; instead, it took a turn for the worse. He went into his brooding mode and refused to come out, creating this icy exterior which I found impossible to break.

The villa was as grand from the inside as it was from the outside. With an antique touch to it mixed with floral patterns and arrangements, it seemed like a perfect haven for the two ladies who resided there.

The place had a homely feeling to it, and instead of being decorated by some interior designer, it seemed that Camilla and Grandma Martina had styled it in their own colours with family photos and crocheted hangings.

His grandma brought out the childhood photo album and began to show me his precious pictures when he was a newborn and a toddler. Even as a baby, he wore a sulk most of the time while staring at the camera with his eyes narrowed.

"He was always a moody child and that didn’t change as he grew," Grandma Martina humorously chuckled as she sat on her rocking chair with a flowering blanket on her legs and the picture album spread in her lap.

I knowingly smiled from her side and pointed to a photo where he held a blue truck in his hand, his chubby cheeks spilling out.

"Can’t agree more, but these surely disappeared."

Grandma Martina nodded with a loving smile that made the sides of her wrinkled eyes crinkle some more.

"Oh! For sure, he was the cutest kid, and now he is a dreamy man for the ladies." She winked at me and I pressed my lips together and gossiped back with a hand covering my face.

"That he is."

Karsten sat opposite us, remaining indifferent to the conversation and without any expressions on his face as we commented on his photographs. I glanced many times in his direction, trying to get his attention, but he refused to glance our way and remained buried looking at his work phone.

Roshra joined us with her snack plate and commented here and there. The woman loved to speak and didn’t know when to shut up. She was like a parrot on repeat and it was clear as day Martina didn’t like her. She could give some healthy competition to Bitu.

"Chew with your mouth shut, girl, and don’t speak so much while eating. You will choke," Grandma Martina carefully instructed but Roshra acted deaf to advice and did as she pleased.

"Kids these days have no respect for the elders." Grandma Martina shook her head in regret.

We had an interesting lunch where his family asked me more random questions, especially Roshra. She was too inquisitive and although she seemed like all talk and rich girl, there was this hidden intelligence to her.

Raysir finally lifted his head from the phone and discovered the watch on Karsten’s arm. A hint of jealousy gleamed in his eyes.

"You got your hand on it?"

Karsten cast a glance in my direction, the midnight pupils held a tingling warmth in that moment as he clearly spoke.

"It’s a gift from—Arata."

Raysir’s hand halted and he almost dropped the fork with bits of meat sticking to it. His dangerously curious pupils dilated and wavered in my direction. I confidently held his gaze.

"Not to be rude or anything, but how did you afford it on a secretary’s pay, or is he spoiling you?" His words were cutting with an edge of accusation to it. I didn’t like his tone but Karsten beat me to answering him.

"None of your business, Raysir. Gifts are gifts and we don’t speak like that. Apologise to my girlfriend." The veins in his hands that held the spoon emerged like the blue streaks of a lightning storm and they extended to his darkened eyes as he glared at his younger brother.

The air suddenly thickened with tension and everyone halted their eating. Camilla tried to interfere but Martina pressed her hand and shook her head to not come between the brothers.

Raysir snorted and, with a shake of his head, began.

"Of course! Like I said, I didn’t mean to be rude, but I was only curious. I apologise." His eyes were cold and his words even colder and they were a different type of icy than Karsten’s, like the ones which spilled into your veins and froze your blood.

"It’s fine but I have been saving money for a long time," I answered amicably and concentrated on eating the delicious food. Placing a spoonful of rice into my mouth, the Paella had been masterfully prepared with that rich smokiness perfectly balanced with the taste of the seafood and saffron.

The atmosphere relaxed, and the conversation moved on, but I saw his mother and sister throwing meaningful glances towards each other and the watch.

I quite enjoyed the food and ate more than I should have. My tummy felt full, and I had to stop myself, or they would think I was a glutton. After lunch, I decided to take a walk in the garden with Karsten before resting for a while. My body still had cramps but they were milder now. Karsten had already gone outside to smoke.

I emerged from the bathroom after washing my hands and heard Roshra and Camilla quietly speaking in the foyer. They didn’t see or hear me so I flattened myself against the wall when I heard my name.

"It’s not about her size, Roshra but I think they are trying too hard, and I am not buying it," Camilla quietly said, and my heart skipped a beat.

Roshra countered.

"They look cute together but could be faking it, I haven’t even seen them kiss each other or touch each other that much. I can’t even keep my hands off Greg." Greg, I assumed, was Roshra’s boyfriend, but she had a point, and I needed to speak to Karsten or our cover would be blown.

A window directly faced the garden from the foyer, providing a whole view.

Quietly I tiptoed outside and found him leaning against the pergola like some unearthly deity who had descended from a dark realm, inked in blackness from his hair to his attire down to his mood. His ankles were crossed while he took long puffs of the slim cigarette he held between his articulate fingers.

The smoky tendrils, like flimsy rings, rose from it.

Why did he want to die of cancer at such a young age?

Seeing me approach, he took one long puff of the smoke and squashed the burning stick against the beam he was leaning against putting it out of its misery.

I thanked God in my heart. One day I needed to speak with him about this habit.

Wasn’t Mr Know-It-All aware of how dangerous smoking was for his health?

I walked right over to him and stood facing him while grabbing his hands. Hints of utter surprise passed over his impassive face as I placed them around my waist and leaned in against his hard chest.

"Just hold me," I murmured, raising myself on my toes and looping my arms around his thick neck, the serpent sat snugly there as I quietly whispered what I heard his mother and sister talking.

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