Sweet Revenge With My Billionaire Vampire-Chapter 48: He Ripped You Off, Idiot

The man quickly snatched the money, chuckling as he counted it. When he was done, he stuffed it into his pocket and shook his head cheerfully. "No. That’s all I know."

Adeline’s face twisted in anger, and she stepped forward, throwing her hands up in disbelief. "Then why did you take more money if you didn’t have anything else to say, you greedy... old... man!"

The landlord laughed heartily, clutching his stomach as he walked past them toward the dog. "Consider it the completed payment for breaking into my property," he said, stopping in front of his dog and patting its head. "You’re lucky I didn’t actually call the cops."

Adeline glared at him with her fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to argue and give the old man a piece of her mind, but Enzo placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Let it go, cupcake."

It wasn’t her money, so she shouldn’t be this pissed about it, but for some reason she is. She grabbed Enzo by the wrist and turned, dragging him towards the gate. "Come on! Let’s go,"

He let her pull him along, glancing back over his shoulder at the man and nodding. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"He ripped you off, idiot!" Adeline yelled, yanking his arm slightly. She aggressively pushed the gate open, striding out and slamming it shut behind her.

—-----

Vincent stood in front of the door that led into Damien’s office. His hand hovered in the air, trembling as he debated whether to knock. After a moment of anxious hesitation, he inhaled a deep, tremulous breath, calming his nerves before finally rapping twice on the door.

Before he could even lower his hand, the door swung open, revealing Damien.

The vampire king stood tall with his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He had a smile curling at his lips, which was rare for him. Vincent’s legs felt like jelly as he stared at Damien’s broad chest, too terrified to look him in the eyes.

"Ah, Vincent, my boy." Damien said with a chuckle. "You sure took your time to report back. How did it go? I trust you delivered my message to my son."

Damien extended his hand, placing a finger under Vincent’s chin. He guided it upward, lifting his gaze until their eyes met. Vincent’s breath hitched as the gaze of the vampire king bore into him.

"Y-yes, my lord," he stammered. "I told Enzo that... that he has three months to return. Or the girl will die."

"Good. And what did he say?"

Vincent hesitated, his mind racing as he tried to make up a response. Shaking his head, he said, "He... he didn’t say anything, my lord. He told me to get out of his car and then drove off."

Damien’s smile faltered, and his expression darkened. His gaze flickered down to Vincent’s trembling feet and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. It was nothing unusual for Vincent since he had always been known to be wimpy, but Damien could feel that something was off. He let go of Vincent’s chin and stepped back, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied him with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

He watched him for a long, uncomfortable moment before speaking. "Vincent," he said, pausing for a second before adding, "Are you lying to me?"

Vincent recoiled as though he’d been struck. His eyes widened, and he gasped, waving his hands frantically in the air. "No, my liege! I--I would never think of doing such a thing!"

But he was lying. He had to. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Damien the truth about Adeline being Enzo’s fiancée because he knew it would only cause chaos between him and his son.

Fuck the three months he gave Enzo. If Damien found out, he would tear through the human world to get to her and kill her.

He cursed himself deep inside for even mentioning the girl in the first place. He wished he had just kept quiet when he first saw Adeline. But then again, what choice did he have?

If he hadn’t, Damien would have grown tired of Enzo ignoring his letters and gone to the human world on his own, uncovering everything anyway. And then, Damien would undoubtedly turn his wrath on Vincent for failing to notice something so significant.

Lost in his thoughts, Vincent was unable to hear anything else Damien was saying until he snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Vincent jolted, his eyes darting up to meet Damien’s for a brief moment before dropping back to the floor.

"Look at me," Damien ordered.

Vincent slowly raised his head, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y-yes, my lord?"

"I’ll ask you again. Are you lying to me?"

"N-no, my liege," Vincent continued his nervous stutters, his head shaking violently.

Damien stared at him for what felt like an eternity, his suspicion undiminished. Then, he nodded and reached out to pat his trembling shoulder. He let his hand linger on his shoulder for a few seconds before squeezing it, causing Vincent to wince, but he didn’t dare move from where he stood.

He let go of him and stepped to his side, leaning down to whisper into his ear. "Good. Because you know what happens to those who lie to me, don’t you?"

Vincent’s stomach twisted in fear as he nodded frantically. "Y-yes, my lord. I know. I wouldn’t dare."

"Excellent," he said, straightening up. Satisfied, he gave Vincent’s shoulder one last pat and began to walk down the hallway, his long black coat billowing behind him. Over his shoulder, he called, "Come. I have a meeting to attend this morning, and I require your presence."

A relieved sigh escaped Vincent’s lips, the sound mingling with the air he had been holding in since before he quickly stepped forward, following closely behind Damien.

—----

Evans strode through the mansion’s hallway, his mind preoccupied as he headed toward the dining room. Passing his mother’s room, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. His initial instinct was to close it and continue walking, but something urged him to take a look. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside.

His eyes swept the space, and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the tea room’s door standing wide open. Alarmed, he hurried across the room and stepped into the tea room.

Inside, the faint outline of footsteps on the slightly dusty floor immediately caught his attention. He frowned and crouched down, brushing his fingers across the prints, wondering who could’ve been in here. His eyes followed the trail until they stopped at the counter, where several small packets lay scattered. Some had spilled onto the floor, while others rested at the edge of the bottom cabinet.