The Heart System Chapter 542

They approached the table with calm composure, as if it were nothing more than an ordinary get-together. I slid my chair back, stood up, and offered my hand first to Carrie, then to Jack. Carrie’s clasp was solid and short, her face impassive as ever. Jack’s grip held on a beat too long, his fingers soft yet purposeful, as though gauging a response.

He drew out the chair for Carrie with a minor, somewhat dramatic flourish. She settled in silently, and he claimed his own seat moments later. I sank back into mine, my gaze locked firmly on him.

A server neared, likely ready for orders, but I lifted a hand just a touch, without glancing his way. He picked up on it instantly, nodded once, and retreated.

"I’ll keep it simple," I said, my voice level. "Delete the videos, Jack."

He angled his head a fraction, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. "Straight to business. I like that about him, Carrie."

"Nala isn’t sending you anything," I pressed on, eyes never leaving his. "So drop it and leave her alone."

Jack reclined in his chair, one leg draped over the other, utterly relaxed. "And why would I do that? I have a perfect opportunity here, Mr. Marlowe. It would be a waste not to use it."

"Because it’s wrong?" I countered, tone even. "What kind of answer were you expecting?"

Carrie cut in before he could reply. "Jack, why Nala?"

He released a soft chuckle, fingers drumming gently on the table. "It’s not really about why. It’s more like... why not. Because I can. Because I like her."

I creased my brow faintly. "So this is how you treat people you like?"

He offered a light shrug. "Sometimes, when the opportunity presents itself."

"Let it go, Jack," I stated, inching forward slightly. "I’m not going to repeat myself."

Carrie interjected once more, her voice carrying a sharper edge. "He took down Guy, in case you didn’t know. And he almost turned me into public enemy number one after that."

Jack made a quiet, mocking noise, a mix of laugh and scoff. "Oh, that’s terrifying. Really. I’m shaking." He leaned in next, elbow planted on the table, drawing his face nearer to mine. "But I think I’ll take my chances, Mr. Marlowe."

"Are you sure about that?" I challenged, holding his stare. "You really want to go down that road?"

"I’m very sure," he shot back instantly, eyes unwavering from mine. "The real question is, are you?"

I maintained the eye contact a moment longer, then shoved my chair back and rose to my feet.

"You’ll find out," I declared.

Neither made a move to stop me.

I spun around and headed directly for the elevator, strides firm despite my thoughts already churning wildly. No waiting for staff this time—I jabbed the button myself, doors gliding open with a hushed mechanical whir.

I entered and punched the lobby button. Just as the doors started to seal, I glimpsed them one final time, still seated there, totally unconcerned.

The doors closed, and I let out a slow breath, fingers combing through my hair.

Avoidance was no longer an option. Matters had spiraled too far. Brok represented one threat, Jack another, and neither showed signs of relenting alone.

I slumped against the elevator wall, eyeing my reflection in the gleaming metal.

"Shit..." I whispered to myself.

Moments later, the doors parted, and I strode into the lobby, jaw clenching as the full burden hit home. Damn, I was racking up foes like they were freaking Pokémon.

Two morons, lining up in sequence.

I shrugged my shoulders a touch and made for the exit.

"Fine," I grumbled under my breath, tone quiet but resolute. "Let’s see how far you want to take this."

⟁ ⟁ ⟁

Yet another day cooped up at home, idle with nothing on the agenda. Pretending to despise it was impossible. Skipping work, dodging folks, and lounging endlessly held undeniable allure. That sluggish comfort lured you in slyly, before awareness dawned. Even so, my mind refused to quiet, endlessly looping the same obsessions. Jack. Nala. Brok. The tangled chaos clung stubbornly, and flopping around in bed like a fool brought zero solace.

I heaved a deep sigh and hauled myself upright from the mattress. "Yeah... this isn’t working."

I stepped into the bathroom and snapped on the light. The abrupt glare forced me to blink briefly. Snatching my phone from the counter, I glanced at the time. Ten a.m. The girls had long since headed off to their jobs, naturally. And here I was, accomplishing zilch. Fantastic.

I twisted the faucet open and bent over, dousing my face with chilly water several times. It perked me up a bit, enough to fully rouse me from the haze. Water trailed down my cheeks and jaw as I shut off the tap and grabbed a towel. Wiping my face deliberately slow, I stared into the mirror reflection longer than necessary. Exhaustion etched my features—not just drowsiness, but that frustrating weariness where the mind won't quiet down.

Retreating from the bathroom into the bedroom, I approached the window. Torrents of rain battered the panes fiercely and without mercy. Ominous dark clouds shrouded the entire sky, blotting out any glimpse of the sun. The city below seemed drained of color, bleak and monotonous in gray tones.

"Damn," I grumbled.

Ideal conditions for hunkering down indoors and letting the day waste away.

Turning from the window, I left the bedroom and eased the door shut with a gentle click. A savory food scent assaulted my senses instantly. Minne positioned herself at the kitchen counter, back turned to me, intent on her chore. She chopped cucumbers with precision, every slice uniform and tidy. The living room TV droned on with a weather broadcast, volume cranked up to dominate the room.

Mik lay splayed across the lone couch, utterly motionless. Eyes sealed shut, tail curled snug against her body, she showed no sign of stirring anytime soon. Her meal tray rested nearby, fully emptied. Tessa's rigorous diet regime was obviously taking hold. Frankly, it was proving effective. Mik appeared... healthier. Far from a waddling mass, more akin to a real beast now. Progress for her.

"Morning, Minne."

She startled a touch, shoulders twitching as she whirled around. "Oh! Sorry, you startled me, Master. Good morning!"

"Didn’t mean to," I replied while heading toward the couches, flicking a quick look at the TV before tuning it out. "What are you making?"

"Chicken salad," she said, facing the counter once more. "Mrs. Tessa wanted it, Master."

"Of course she did," I muttered.