Noble of the Night: Blood Oath

Chapter 13

"No, no! Ali, please don't do this. Mondan and I truly love each other. We genuinely want to spend our lives together," a woman's voice pleaded.

"Han Yin, I’m doing this for your own good. Marrying that poor boy won’t bring you happiness."

"No... No..."

The scene faded into darkness, and the emotional dialogue was swallowed by silence.

"Hmph, I don't get it. What’s so appealing about these corny soap operas? Every single one of them has a mob of women glued to the screen, desperate to watch these trashy dramas," Clyce commented with disdain, casually holding the remote as he lounged on the leather sofa, his handsome face full of scorn.

"That’s the most popular primetime show in London right now. Apparently, the ratings are through the roof," Howard shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t interested in romantic dramas either, and he couldn't fathom why they were so popular. Who actually enjoyed watching such cheesy nonsense?

Clyce took a sip from the coffee on the table. "Any updates on Ethan?"

"A few days ago, the clan sent word. He’s been safely transported back to the clan and is awaiting trial," Howard answered respectfully.

"Oh, is that so?" Clyce set the cup back down on the table, but a faint noise outside the window caught his attention. His lips curled into a slight smile, one different from his usual mocking grin. This time, there was a hint of excitement and anticipation.

Howard glanced outside as well and had to bite his lip to stop from laughing out loud. Recognizing the situation, he wisely made his way toward the door.

Clyce walked over to the window, opened it, and carefully picked up a small bat that had been nearly stuck to the glass.

"I always thought only birds were dumb enough to crash into transparent glass. Today I learned that even vampires can be just as foolish," Clyce remarked, his usually cold and haughty demeanor replaced with a rare, gentle smile.

"Shut up! Don’t laugh at me. It was just an accident," the little bat suddenly spoke, struggling in his grasp, trying to escape.

It was all his fault! Who told him to keep his windows so clean that she didn’t even realize they were there? The crash was entirely on him. No matter how she spun it, this was definitely his fault!

Clyce placed the bat gently on the sofa. In moments, the small creature transformed into a young woman, Isabella, who was now sprawled out, weakly gasping for air.

"That really hurt..." Isabella moaned, clutching her forehead in pain. "First I crash into a pillar, now I smack into a window. One more hit and my forehead's going to swell like Su Xiaomei's!"

Clyce tossed her a bottle of ointment, his eyebrow raised at her words. "Like Su Xiaomei? I doubt it. You’d have to crash another dozen times to reach that level."

Isabella snatched the bottle from him and began applying the ointment to her forehead. "Damn it. Every time I come here, I end up with a bump on my head. Next time, I swear, I’m never coming back."

Clyce bent down and gently massaged her swollen forehead with his large hand. "You better start liking it here. Unless you’re willing to return with me to England, this is the only place you’ll have to stay while you’re in London." Clearly, it was her own fault for being clumsy, crashing into pillars and windows, yet she somehow blamed it all on the house. *This woman,* Clyce thought, *never admits her own mistakes.*

Isabella’s eyes snapped up to glare at him, anger suddenly flaring. She finally remembered why she had come here in the first place. It wasn’t to crash into his windows—it was to demand justice!

"How dare you move my things without my permission?!" she snapped. In the past couple of days, while she had been avoiding him, he had moved all her belongings out of her apartment. His behavior was as bad as a bandit!

Clyce raised an eyebrow, continuing to rub her forehead with his large hand. "You already agreed to move in. Have you forgotten?"

Isabella was left momentarily speechless. "Well, yes, I did agree... but..." But she had only agreed under his threats and pressure! Surely, that didn’t count?

Clyce, still gently massaging her forehead, paid no attention to her protests. His behavior, in stark contrast to his usual cold demeanor, was surprisingly tender. He didn’t bother with her excuses—she had agreed, and that was that. There was no turning back now. Once he felt he’d done enough, he handed her the bottle of ointment. "Rub this in morning and night, and it should heal in two or three days. Your room is at the end of the hallway on the right. All your things are there. Once you’re done, go to sleep early." With that, he turned to leave.

"Wait! Stop!" Isabella quickly called after him. "Why do you think I’ll stay here?!" His presumptuous attitude made her want to punch him.

"I’ve already terminated the lease on your old apartment. Your deposit, rent refund, bank passbook, and debit card are all with me. In other words, you’re broke."

With a sharp "bang," the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Isabella alone in the living room. For a moment, she sat in stunned silence before grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door. "Clyce Morgan, you vampire bastard! I curse you to hit your head on every pillar and lamp post! Damn it! How could you do this to me?"

Although she cursed him bitterly, Isabella knew one thing for sure—she had no choice but to stay here now.

In a distinctive black mansion, a tense atmosphere filled the air, completely at odds with the usual calm of a Sunday morning.

With a scowl on her face, Isabella reluctantly made her way to the dining room.

Despite being practically forced to live here, she had resolved to maintain her dignity by refusing to engage with anyone in the house. But her "resolve" had crumbled the moment the rich aroma of coffee from the kitchen reached her. With her stomach rumbling, she couldn’t help but be lured toward the dining room.

*Defeated by hunger,* she thought bitterly. Today, her pride lost to her growling stomach.

"Good morning, Isabella," Howard greeted her with a friendly smile as soon as she walked in.

The smell of Howard’s coffee was intoxicating, the kind of aroma that could make anyone’s mouth water. Just from the smell, she could tell it would taste amazing.

Isabella glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to appear. *Where’s that annoying guy?* she wondered. How come he wasn’t here first thing in the morning?

"Howard, where’s Clyce?" she asked without realizing how naturally the question came to her.

"You mean the master?" Howard smoothly poured the hot coffee into a mug and handed it to her. "He had surgery this morning, so he won’t be back until the afternoon."

*He’s gone?*

Isabella pouted in disappointment, her mood sinking for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

*What’s wrong with me?* Why was she thinking about that irritating vampire? The further away he was, the happier she should be. Forget it! Breakfast was more important right now.

Forcing herself to focus on her meal, Isabella tried to push the annoying thoughts out of her mind.

"Here, your scrambled eggs," Howard said, placing the dish in front of her before sitting down across the table.

As he watched her enjoy the breakfast he had made, he found himself swallowing hard. Today, with the master out of the house, he could finally have a serious talk with her.

"Um... Isabella," Howard started nervously.

Munching on a big piece of toast, Isabella glanced up at him. "What? You want some too?" she asked, cutting her breakfast in half and offering him a portion.

Howard glanced at the food in front of him. "No, no. I’m not hungry. It’s just... Isabella, do you hate the master?"

Last night, he had overheard Isabella shouting angrily, clearly upset with the master. He knew it was because Clyce had forced her to move in, and that had triggered her anger, leading to her outburst.

To anyone else, it would seem like Clyce was in the wrong. Who wouldn’t be mad at being forced to do something against their will? But Howard, who had served Clyce for nearly two decades, knew that while the master was cold and arrogant, he would only go out of his way to bring someone into his home if he truly cared about them.

But Clyce was also infuriating. Why couldn’t he just admit his feelings to Isabella and tell her he was worried about her living alone? That would have solved everything, instead of pushing her to the point of rebellion.

Isabella blinked in surprise. "What did you just ask me?"

"I... I asked if you really hate the master," Howard repeated, bracing himself for her answer.