True Alpha's Chosen Mate-Chapter 297: Paris

Just like any other day of this damn life, I used my sweet little nighttime to cope up with the sadness that embraced me. It had always been like that. People said I have everything I could have in life: title, wealth, talents, and influence. Being born as a Highmore was a bonus, a plus, a perk, which made this life perfect.

The reality of that oh-so-perfect image was saddening and maddening. It made me sick.

I had no one.

What I meant by that was I would give this life everyone was so envious of in a heartbeat if I could. Although I had Lisha, whom I trusted the most, I couldn’t confide in her. Not because I knew she wouldn’t listen or because of anything of the sort.

I just knew what she would say after I vent out my frustrations. I knew she didn’t mean it, but her lectures, although out of the goodness of her heart, pressured me. All I wanted was for someone to be there and listen because I already knew what I needed to do. The reason I was used to coping up alone, keeping all these ’petty whinings’ all to myself, and then moving on to live this life.

"I really don’t like Lisha." I was brought back from my trance as I turned to my side and then smiled mildly at Paris, my little brother walking beside me. "I told her I will join you in your room last night, but she dares threaten me."

"Lisha is simply following my orders. Had I known you’d want to have some company, I would’ve made an exception."

"You don’t mean that." Paris glanced at me and pouted, throwing his hands behind his head, strutting through the hallway leading to the dining hall where we were summoned to dine with the duke.

The side of my lips curled up, arching a brow as I shrugged. Paris, with his shining slanted golden eyes, peered at me as if I betrayed him. His short tousled ebony hair was like how it always was with a few strands sticking out, a result of his constant ruffling. His arrogant personality matched his arrogant features. Even so, I must admit he was charming in his own way, albeit one would mistake him as a young ruffian.

I mentally laughed at the thought. Wasn’t the Highmore clan a family of scoundrels who happened to live luxuriously?

"Paris, I adore you, but I enjoy my quality time alone." I chuckled whilst shaking my head, gazing up ahead. "Silence had more value than gold — it’s priceless."

I once again cast him a knowing look and smirked. "Stop pouting, Paris. We spend time almost every single day. Haven’t you gotten tired of staring at this face?"

"Damn..." he breathed out, kicking the air as he stomped his feet. "I just want to spend more time with you before Lucien returns. I’ll be busy trying to kill him, so I don’t have to put up with his insufferable existence!"

I laughed and shook my head once again. "The feeling is mutual. He should’ve just died in his last conquest."

"He’d regret not dying. I’ll make sure of that."

There was a moment of silence after the mention of Lucien filling the hallway with the sound of our footsteps. As we did so, I could not help but glance at Paris. This little brother of mine was one of the very few people who were bearable to indulge with.

He wasn’t kind, obviously. Paris was the territorial type. He was good to me, but he was most of the time overprotective and possessive. He disliked Lucien for that very reason: he didn’t want to share his sister. Well, he already hated Lucien before because there was nothing to like about that person. His dislike only amplified when we had grown close because of our hatred of the same person.

"Careful." I glanced at him once again, watching him cast me an indifferent side-eye. "I know you’re capable, but Lucien is persistent. You might put yourself in danger if you push him too far. I’m just worried about you."

Paris studied my smile before he grinned until his eyes squinted. "Really? You’re worried?"

"Haha... of course. I’m still your big sister, whether or not you like it." I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He didn’t take everything I said and knowing him, I was one hundred ten percent sure he was stuck in that ’I’m just worried’ part.

I couldn’t blame Paris, though. Aside from having a lunatic of a father who never had filial emotions toward his children, his birth mother died when he was just a child. So not only did he see me as his sister but also as some sort of mother figure.

We headed to the dining hall, and it took us some time since we’d been chatting about anything that wasn’t about Lucien. We’re both tired of that person and it was proven not healthy for our blood to mention him ever again. We took our precious time until we finally reached the grandiose dining hall that had a magnificent chandelier at the top, giving a sparkle in the hall.

As expected, the duke hadn’t arrived yet. This was why we didn’t hasten, knowing we would wait here forever. We were already used to his tardiness. So, Paris and I took our respected seats according to our ranking.

In the House of Highmore, there was a hierarchy.

So, although the duke had many children, only those whom he deemed exceptional or useful were able to join him for a meal. Being able to step foot in this very dining hall was an achievement in itself. For those who never stepped foot in this place... they’d either died somewhere or were used as tools to gain whatever the duke would gain from them just by bearing the name Highmore.

"He’s taking his time today." Paris tossed his head back, almost reclining in his chair next to mine, which was one chair away from the host seat. "Why can’t he even arrive on time?"

"Because he’s important?" I humored, chuckling when he blew his lips and rolled his eyes. "Why? Do you want to see His Grace so bad? Is that why you’re disappointed he’s running late than usual?"

"As if." Paris cocked his head in my direction. "I just want to end this meal quickly."

"Well, it doesn’t mean that if the dinner started early, it will also end ear... ly." I trailed off when the door suddenly flung open, revealing a dashing man in his uniform with a thick cape dangling over his shoulder, strutting inside.

"I’m sorry, kids. There was an interesting encounter. I made you wait," he said, eyes darting between Paris and me.

This man, who appeared to be just around my age, was my father. The Duke of Southcross, Octavian Highmore.