Dominate Showbiz: Media Tycoon Discovered My Talent-Chapter 97: Who You Really Are

A shiver ran through her body, her face turning aside and away from how his lips were nibbling the soft lobe of her ear. She placed a hand against his chest, stopping him cold before he could lean any closer.

"I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to initiate what you have in mind here, Mr. Kosonen," she said.

The nibbling came to an end. His right hand left the window and slid down to her chin, forcing her gaze back to his.

"Will you stop calling me that?" he muttered.

"It’s the most appropriate option I have, given our current circumstances," she shrugged, not even trying to escape his grip.

"Is it?" His gaze narrowed. "And what circumstances do you think we’re in now?"

She raised a brow at the irritation in his tone.

Hadn’t he always kept his irritation to himself and swallowed it down, or simply stormed off whenever she pissed him off, like in the dressing room?

What was with this sudden interrogation? Why did she feel like he was... sulking?

"Didn’t you say you’d keep your distance from me?" she asked back coolly. "I’m only trying to keep up with your decision."

Frustration rose in his chest. "And so you decided to keep yourself emotionally distant from me as well?"

"Erm, were we ever emotionally close?" she asked back, equally frustrated.

His eyes widened, fingers stiffening around her chin. A sharp pang stung his chest, striking him numb in place.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, or how to feel about that comment, spoken so nonchalantly from her peachy lips.

Before he could utter any response, those peachy lips began moving again.

"I appreciate all the sweet things you’ve done for me, how you’ve given me this opportunity that I’m sure others would die to have.

"But if you’re thinking that having sex twice means there’s anything emotional between us, then I’m afraid you’re terribly wrong.

"I don’t understand you, or who you really are at all. What you’re up to. What’s bothering your mind right now. How you’re feeling. What makes you mad. What eases your madness.

"Or even much simpler things, like how you like your coffee in the morning. I only found out this morning that you like it black without milk or sugar."

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but they ended up quivering faintly, the words stuck in his throat.

Were those really the thoughts she had in that pretty little mind of hers? Why did they sound so simple, yet so complicated to his ears?

And more importantly, why couldn’t she be just as predictable as the many women he’d been with throughout the years?

It had always been so easy to please them.

Take them out frequently. Buy them nice, expensive clothes and jewelry. Remember their sizes as precisely as their birthdays. Get them flowers now and then. Make love to them for as many hours as possible, and make sure they were satisfied before he was.

Those were the things he’d mastered so well, with the amount of experience he’d acquired by now. He could recite them as easily as he could recite the last financial report he’d read.

But... to open himself up to her, and allow her to understand him? For who he really was?

Why did she suddenly sound so much like his younger half-brother now? Had she spent too much time with Antony recently, or were artists like them all basically falling into the same emotionally complicated type?

Frustrated by his own thoughts, Charles pushed himself off the window, straightening up.

"I don’t see why you need to know those things," he argued, his features tightening. "You’re not my assistant, so there’s no use in knowing how I like my coffee. If I’m upset about something, I don’t see why I should bother you with my problems. I’d rather deal with them myself before you could even sense that I’m mad."

Her brow furrowed, the frustration on her face matching his. "Even if you’ll have to endure your problems all alone, all by yourself?"

"Especially when I have to," he replied firmly. "No one could deal with my problems better than I do. And because of that, I don’t see it as enduring at all. It saves me from having to depend on anyone else when something bad comes up."

"If so, then," her voice dropped to a soft murmur, "should I also keep all of my problems from you and deal with them myself?"

Once again, Charles found himself lost for words. He kept staring down at the blue-eyed girl before him, his silver eyes trembling as his own words trapped him in place.

"That’s not what I meant," he said at last, his voice thin with helplessness.

"I know that’s not what you mean," she replied, "but I like to keep it fair, and I’m sure you like it fair too. If that’s how you do things, I assume it’s only fair that I do the same in return.

"As for your morning coffee, I know you have your assistant for that. But they’re making you your coffee because they’re paid to do that.

"When I’m making you one, it’s because I want to, and I want to make sure I’m making it to your preferences, the same way you know my measurements when you bought me those bags of clothes.

"But well, since you think there’s no use in me knowing any of that, then I guess there’s no point in me noticing such useless details anymore.

"And what will that leave us? Not emotionally close at all, in my book, I’m afraid."

With that, she stepped aside and away from the window, bringing herself to a safe distance from him as she dropped onto the couch.

Before her, Charles still stood frozen in place with his gaze pointing blankly outside the window, her words striking him like arrows piercing straight through a bullseye.

"I must admit, today I’ve learned more about you than I ever did in the past few months," she added nonchalantly, leaning against the couch. "Speaking of your assistant, where’s Camille? I haven’t seen her in a long time."

"She’s no longer working with me," he replied, turning to her at last. "I sent her to a different department."

Her brow shot up. "Eh, why? I thought... I thought you two..." She brought a hand to her mouth before another word could spill out.

Did she misunderstand the whole thing?

She remembered clearly seeing Camille leaving Charles’s room that day, with her lipstick smeared and her hair messy, saying some obviously suggestive words. How come Camille had been sent to another department now?

Her little effort to recover herself didn’t escape Charles’s sharp gaze. "You thought what?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, well," she stammered, scratching her head, "I happened to see Camille leaving your place some weeks ago, and she was, uh... she had her lipstick smeared and she said you were up all night, so I thought, uh... you know." She left the words for him to finish himself.

His lips slowly curled into a faint smirk upon realizing what she meant. "And you thought I was up all night being with her?"

She swung both hands up in the air in her defense. "I mean, her clothes and hair were displaced too! How could I possibly take it any other way, given she’d just left your place?"

Then an embarrassed sigh escaped her. "I’m sorry if I took it the wrong way, then."

The smirk on Charles’s face showed no sign of fading anytime soon. If anything, it only deepened as he made his way toward her.

"What if I told you I did spend a night with my assistant?" he asked, his tone now dripping with amusement. "Would that make you feel jealous, then?"

"Why should I feel jealous?" she snorted, her brow twitching. "I don’t think I’m in any position to be jealous, Mr. Kosonen."

Without wasting another word, he shot a hand toward her wrist and pulled her up onto her feet. His other hand went around her waist, pressing her flush against him.

"Is that really so?" His voice came hoarse like a low growl. "You said earlier you want to know me, didn’t you? Well then, let me start by telling you what makes me really, truly mad, Kaija Sepala.

"I feel mad whenever you lie to me. First, when you tried to protect the insolent punk sitting in the room next to ours right now. Then, when you suddenly disappeared during the festival.

"And now, you’re telling me you’re not jealous? While obviously you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at me when you said those words? You must be so arrogant to think I’ll ever believe any of your clumsy lies in the first place.

"I also feel mad when you’re always so unpredictable. First, how you rejected my offer so coldly in the beginning. Then, when you didn’t even bother bringing up how you were beaten when you were captured, after you came back, while any normal girl out there would have come to me and screamed and cried about it for hours!

"And now, you’re telling me you don’t understand me at all? And that you want me to open myself up to you? You are the one I keep finding myself failing to understand again and again!

"But what drives me totally insane, is the way you keep calling me Mr. Kosonen. I hate it so badly I’m going to make sure you’re never going to call me that way ever again in your life, after you step out of this room today."