Chapter 445
Alaricka Huston scoffed inwardly but said evenly: “I only want what’s mine. I’m possessive—won’t take anything others touched. This piano’s fine, Mr. Argent, just not for me.”
She was hinting at something.
She knew Kieran Argent would catch her drift.
Alaricka Huston met his eyes with a thin smile: “Besides, whatever I want, my boyfriend buys if I don’t. Keep this piano for Mrs. Argent. Heard she’s touring globally next month—might catch a show.”
Every word was airtight.
Kieran Argent slowly raised his gaze, eyes dark and heavy.
Alaricka Huston still couldn’t read his expression, same as years before.
Kieran Argent stayed silent.
Alaricka Huston said flatly: “Mr. Argent, if we’re done, can we discuss Black–White Rabbit’s copyright?”
“You promised.”
Kieran Argent seemed to recall then, fingers gliding over piano keys, drawing out a cheerful melody.
Suddenly, he slammed a key—the note thudded dully.
Alaricka Huston waited quietly for his answer.
What came was one abrupt, disconnected sentence.
“Five years abroad—you’ve really grown up.”
Kieran Argent’s voice was low and cold.
Alaricka Huston smiled faintly, deflecting: “Everyone grows. Your child must be nearly five? When’s the birthday? I’ll send a gift.”
Kieran Argent looked up: “That child fears you.”
Alaricka Huston understood, arching a brow: “I’ve done nothing to him.”
Kieran Argent watched her.
That look…
Irritation flared in Alaricka Huston, but her voice stayed icy calm: “What, Mr. Argent, suspecting me again?”
Kieran Argent turned, walking a few steps while saying: “No need for gifts.”
Alaricka Huston opened her mouth to protest when he leaned against the wall, arms folded, nodding toward the piano.
“Play a piece for me.”
Alaricka maintained her smile. “Mr. Argent, I haven’t practiced piano in five years, and I already declined earlier.”
Kieran Argent nodded solemnly, waiting for her to finish before speaking. “Play one piece, and I’ll discuss the Black–White Rabbit game rights with you.”
Alaricka nearly rolled her eyes, barely restraining herself. “Mr. Argent, I recall you said that if I attended your wedding anniversary party, you’d consider selling me the rights.”
Kieran listened patiently, his voice cool. “So, will you play or not?”
Changing terms last minute—utterly shameless!
Alaricka wanted to punch Kieran’s face.
Silence hung in the room for several seconds. Kieran seemed certain she’d comply, his composed demeanor fueling Alaricka’s irritation.
She clicked her tongue mentally. “Mr. Argent, just to confirm—if I play, you’ll sell me the rights?”
Kieran answered succinctly. “Play.”
Alaricka: How are you not dead from all that arrogance?
Furious, yet forced to bow to necessity—she had employees relying on her for salaries and bonuses.
Clenching her fists, Alaricka walked over and sat at the piano.
Truthfully, she’d lied earlier. She’d never stopped practicing piano these years.
When she first arrived in the capital, broke with no piano, nearly every cent went into her startup. Struggling to make ends meet and swamped with work, piano became a distant thought.
Later, as her company stabilized and income grew steady, she immediately bought a piano for her home. Whenever possible, she played to nourish her spirit.
Five years later, her skills had refined considerably, never neglected.
Alaricka’s fingers lightly touched the keys, pressing down with gentle force. As her fingers danced, light, melodious notes flowed—leisurely in rhythm, tender in tone.
She played an ordinary piece, devoid of special meaning.
Perfect for her and Kieran.
Alaricka lost herself in the music, slender pale fingers leaping expertly across the keys like sprites dancing upon ivory.
Harsh room lights bathed the woman, casting a halo around her. Her skirt rippled like water, framing her graceful, proportionate figure—utterly captivating.
From Kieran’s perspective, the scene resembled a professionally shot movie frame.