Enchanted By His Charm



In the evening, Joseph responded to Irish's call in the courtyard. She was explaining her tardiness. Inquisitively, he asked for her reason, to which she cryptically replied that she would reveal it upon her return when nightfall arrived. Joseph smiled, concluding the conversation, and went to prepare dinner, only to be interrupted by the doorbell sound.

He suddenly realized that Irish just teased him, and he opened the door without asking.

It took a long time to hear the noise, someone gasping.

Joseph suddenly realized something was wrong and rushed to the living room but was stunned. And then he stared with wide eyes.

There was a man sitting at the door, looking very weak. He looked up at him, feebly saying, "Joseph." 

Joseph stood in place and forgot to move.

It was Roy!

It should be Roy.

Yes, it was Roy, who had long been listed as a dead man.

The night outside the window gradually became deep. The light in the living room was very dark enough to cover people under a dark shadow and blur the sight.

But Joseph's eyes were sharp, like a black dove.

He sat on the sofa, staring at the man sitting on the other end with a slight frown and an extremely harsh look.

The man opposite him was Roy, right? But looked very embarrassed. He was wearing a hoodie and a cap that Joseph didn't know where he got from. He would not consider him to be Roy if he was unfamiliar with him.

Roy was gobbling up noodles. 

It was the third bowl that Joseph offered him.

With a few mouthfuls, he saw the empty bowl. Joseph asked him, "Need more?"

Roy shook his head and drank all the noodle soup in the bowl, then put down the bowl and burped.

Joseph sighed. How long had he been so hungry? At ordinary times, Roy was the same as Irish, who did not like eating noodles. They were really brother and sister.

After eating the noodles, he stared at the bowl, and his eyes did not move. The whole person was like opening the static mode, motionless.

Joseph was sitting opposite, suspiciously looking at him.

The hock had faded, and then he was full of questions.

But he quickly caught a glimpse of a large wet area on the knee of Roy.

Was it blood?

"You're hurt?" Joseph asked.

Roy had a reaction and put his big hand on his knee, and then he raised his hand, whose slender fingers were all red.

Joseph got up to take the medicine box.

"Joseph!" Roy stopped him.

Joseph stopped, looking back at him.

"I have been dead once. I don't care about that little injury." Roy's voice was very depressed, along with his cheeks, cold and frightening.

Joseph heard it and then sat back on the sofa.

There was silence.

The clock on the wall is beating.

In the huge mirror was the figure of Roy.

The figure in the cap was almost hidden in the dark.

Joseph reached out to adjust the lights but listened to Roy, who hurriedly said, "It's okay."

His hands then stopped.

"I'm used to the darkness," Roy said slowly.

Joseph frowned again.

He did not ask him what had happened but silently observed him. And Roy appeared tired and desolate. After a long time, he opened his mouth again, and his voice was hoarse.

"Did you ever think to kill me?" 

Joseph did not expect him to say that, slightly stunned, "What do you mean?"

"You suspect me that I want to kill you?" Joseph lightly asked.

Roy stared at his face, "I don't believe anyone now!"

"Then why did you come to me?" Joseph's voice became cold.

Roy did not take back his eyes. His eyes made him like a blood-red trapped beast in the dark light, vaguely hiding unknown vigilance and fear. He said, "Joseph, I finally understand what you mean. You often tell me that business is like a battlefield, and people can kill others for their interests. I never believed that before, but now I do."

"What the hell happened?" Joseph asked.

Roy bowed his head, thought momentarily,  and asked, "Do you have a cigar?"

Joseph retrieved a cigarette from the pack, discarding the box towards Roy. Roy caught the cigar case, extracting a cigar and placing it between his lips. His gaze landed on the coffee table, where he located a lighter, igniting it and lighting his cigar.

The green and white smoke made his cheeks vague. 

Roy took a puff of his cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and remarked, "It's my uncle." He opened up the topic, expecting a reaction.

On the other hand, Joseph remained relatively unfazed, displaying little surprise.

He did not speak, just quietly smoking, waiting for Roy to continue.

Roy saw Joseph's expression and bitterly smiled, "You are so calm; either you have doubted him for so long, or you cooperated with him."

Joseph was not angry, and his tone and eyes were also serene.

"In your mind, you prefer the former."

"Yes, because I have no one to trust. "Roy gnashed his teeth."

Joseph leaned on the sofa, gently spitting out smoke. His words were calm and clear, "Your uncle and me, we are different."

Roy looked at him through the smoke and said, "So, you must help me. Now, only you can help me."

Joseph looked at him, silent.

"My uncle wants to kill me." Roy smoked the cigar hard, spitting out, and the other hand had already clenched into a fist.

He spoke slowly about what had happened that night.

Roy came out of the company to go directly to a friend's party that night. Before his unmarried life, he would stay all night at this kind of party, but he was married now, and Cassie was still pregnant, so he refused his friends to stay longer and left the party place under friends' ridicule.

The parking lot was far away from the party, and there was only a very dark path. He was a little drunk then and, in the corner of his eye, caught a glimpse of a figure sneaking away.

Roy did not overthink then, thinking he was mistaken or the man may be a thief or something. In short, it had nothing to do with him.

He just wanted to get home to see Cassie.

Roy was a captain; usually, for him, the most important thing was safety. So he would not be drunk driving. On the way to the parking lot, he called a designated driver.

The designated driver was on the way.

Roy drove his car out of the parking lot. The road there was quiet. There were few people at night, so Roy could still drive his car to the street. He stopped in one place where there were more people.

The driver soon arrived, and he just knocked at the car window.

Roy hadn't thought that the driver was so young. He was also tall, wearing a pleasant smile.

Roy gave his seat to him.