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"Completely."
"Fuck."
Indeed, Luka mused, having recalled the time he had first realized his feelings and how it tied with his weakness. "There is, of course, the slimmest possibility that your case is different than mine—-"
"How slim?" Etienne interrupted right away. At this point, he was more than willing to grasp straws, since the other alternative was too complicated to even contemplate.
"About..." Luka paused for a few moments to make the necessary calculations. ".005."
Etienne's expression tightened. "In other words...I'm fucked."
The way the old blood had chosen to describe his situation caused Luka's lips to press together in a stern effort to contain his smile and avoid showing disrespect. Etienne's next words, however, proved to be his undoing.
"Is there a cure—-"
Luka laughed.
Etienne swore.
"For what it's worth..." Luka's tone was half-apologetic, half-amused. "There is no known cure, unless...you would rather turn into a vampire than stay fucked?"
Etienne's mood remained black even after his meeting with Luka, and it turned even blacker when a glance at his watch revealed that it was already ten in the evening. Fuck. He called her right away while nodding his thanks as a valet handed him the keys to his sports car.
Half a day wasted on pointless sangferia experiments, he thought broodingly, when all he should have done was gone straight to the source and ask for the truth. Then again, if he had an inkling of what Luka would be revealing, maybe he would have foregone consulting the race's future Advisor. Ignorance, in rare cases, was indeed bliss—-
"Hello." Spencer answered his call just after the second ring, and the tone of her voice was...odd.
"Is everything alright?" Etienne switched the call to loudspeaker as he took the wheel.
"It...depends?"
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Do you know I have a Facebook account?"
"Obviously." He even had to bribe the brat with a fucking Christmas bonus, just to get her to accept his request to become friends on the damn site.
"Well, you should check it first. Then call - no, come see me. At your place."
Click.
Etienne stared at his phone in disbelief. What the hell? Did the brat just hang up on him?
SPENCER SCROLLED DOGGEDLY through her newsfeed on Facebook while trying not to drive herself crazy by second-guessing Etienne's next move. Just as Kiernan advised, she had done what she could to make it up to the billionaire, and as to what would happen afterwards...
An accidental tap on the screen brought her back to her profile and her most recent post, which was two weeks ago. She had shared a news article that suggested a positive correlation between a woman's temper and intellect, and the first one to comment had been none other than Etienne himself.
Could be true, but you're most likely the exception.
Spencer couldn't help burst into laughter. What. A. Troll. And as she went through her older posts, she was surprised to realize that the billionaire had commented on all of them...
How was it that she had never realized this?
She had never really seen Etienne spend that much time on social media, and if she remembered correctly, he only had less than a hundred friends on Facebook. She also knew firsthand how busy he was at work, and to top that off, he also had Caro matters to attend to as one of the more prominent members of the old bloods. So for him to always take the time to, well, diss on her post—-
A notification suddenly popped up on her screen, and Spencer literally jumped in her seat. Oh God. It was a Facebook alert, and she didn't quite know what to feel or do as she stared at her phone. Etienne had accepted the change in their relationship, and they were now Facebook official.
For better or for worse.
