“I always suspected you of being a perv,” I said with a smirk.

My statement made him burst out laughing. Grant lay down on the floor and put his hands under his head. “Oh, you have no idea how much. I eat noodles with bread, brush my teeth three times at once, pet animals only when classical music is playing, and talk to girls by imagining them in vegetable costumes.”

“You don't seem to understand the meaning of this word.”

He argued back with the most serious look he could muster, “Perversity comes in many forms. Everyone does it. Only to the extent of their depravity, maturity and education.”

“You sound like an old man with nine lives behind him.”

“Siri, you have no idea how wise I am sometimes.”

I snorted and then laughed. Grant was so smug as he bragged. How could I be mad at him, how could I hate that guy with that mischievous smile?

‘But I must ignore him. Heart, please remain indifferent, don't get attached, don't respond to his charms…’

His excessive naivety in some matters alternated with cruelty and diabolical malevolence, making my every moment with Circul full of ambiguity and intrigue.

“By the way, I still don't know how old you are.”

“I'm nineteen,” he said, his eyes filled with pride that made me want to laugh even more.

“You're so young. Juvenile,” I reached out and, without thinking of the consequences, let my fingers sink into his thick black hair. I ruffled the strands, disturbing any semblance of order on his head.

Grant's eyes widened, but he immediately controlled his emotions. In a sarcastic tone he said, “I thought we had a rule not to touch each other.”

“I'm sorry, I couldn't resist,” I raised my arms and crawled a few metres away. “You can shave my head in return.”

“Cut the crap, Siri. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I don't have enough fun looking at you all day, and if you went bald, I'd have nightmares too.”

“Forget it then,” I relaxed, knowing that revenge wouldn't catch up with me any time soon. “I promise this will be the first and last time. I'll never touch your hair again.”

Circul pulled himself off the carpet, then sat up with a devilish grin, folded his fingers into a lock and drew them forward, cracking his knuckles. “I forgive you, of course, but don't think you'll escape punishment so easily.”

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And he jumped on me, threw me to the floor and tickled me.

I shrieked as Grant's fingers raked over my stomach and ribs, leaving no chance of rescue. No matter how much I struggled, no matter how much I scratched, he smirked at my attempts to free myself and explored my most sensitive places with even more fervour.

I decided to fight fire with fire and grabbed the guy's chest. He hovered over me, watching mockingly as I tried to elicit the slightest reaction to the tickle.

“You're wasting your energy, I can't feel anything.”

“You're a monster. How can you not be afraid of tickling?”

Grant didn't answer, just snorted insultingly and reached for a second round.

“Okay, okay, I give up!” I push the guy aside and crawl towards the door, hoping that the corridor would be truce territory.

The chain was immediately pulled sharply, preventing me from escaping.

“I am not finished yet,” his warm breath burned my ear, his fingers tugged violently at my hair, causing me to throw my head back. “Never. Touch. My hair. Again. Do you understand me?”

I nodded as best I could. On the one hand, his question sounded like a challenge, my hands itching to feel the silky softness of that black hair again, but on the other, a thought flashed through my mind.

Could it be that he treated his hair like Lan Wangji treated the Gusu Lan Clan's forehead ribbon? Then I'd be in big trouble.

But I wasn't allowed to think about this amusing idea. A shot rang out across the corridor from Grant's official bedroom. Then another, and another.

I flinched, but Grant's strong embrace immediately brought me back to my senses.

“Shh,” Circul whispered. He helped me to my feet, silently wrapped the chain around his wrist and looked out into the corridor.

After a few seconds, he relaxed and walked out of the guest bedroom, leading me in. A dim light shone from Grant's room onto the carpet and a tall figure stood in the doorway. The man stepped towards us and nodded in greeting. “Young master.”

“Lias, what happened?” Grant was as cool as ever as he strode into his bedroom and stopped beside the black-clad man lying there. A pool of blood was spreading from beneath the leather-gloved hand.

I clung to the doorjamb, trying to keep my knees from shaking, refusing to go any further.

“We managed to kill nine of them on the border of the manor, three broke through from the other side,” green-eyed Lias reported into Circul Junior's ear. “This one snuck into your bedroom, luckily you weren't here when we found him.”

I swallowed, fighting back the nausea, the smell of blood wafting more and more into the room, making me dizzy. The four guards were wiping the fresh scarlet splatters from the bed and wardrobe, talking quietly.

Grant had a phone call with his father, and it was the first time I'd ever seen him look so serious. Lias was comforting Midi, who came running in, clutching her heart and wailing over the poor ruined carpet.

I leaned against the doorjamb and stared at the body of the man who had tried to kill my enemy. I didn't feel sorry for him, but I couldn't blame him for wanting to wipe out what the head of the country valued most – what he had even made a deal with me for.

The realisation came quietly. I watched from a distance as the bodyguards carried the body out, wrapped in a sheet. Now I understood why my neck was clenched by the bomb, why the chain glittered on the other man's wrist. It was him – Grant.

The target of these villains was president Circul. They decided to threaten his son in order to intimidate him. Or maybe it's an act of subtle revenge – that's also possible. There have always been plenty of nutters.

And one thing was clear to me that night. If I wanted to kill Rizor Circul myself, if I wanted to take my revenge, I had to endure the three-month term. I had to keep Grant Circul alive.

He had to live so that my sole purpose could be fulfilled. He had to live so that I could kill his father and finally kill myself.

He had to live.