Daughter of oblivion: Claimed by four alpha(s)

Chapter 241 - 240: Bloodsucker{II}

Laila tilted her head, studying him. "You look like the curious type."

Alaric forced a smile.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she held his gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him wonder if she was about to say something dangerous. Alaric shifted slightly in his seat, eyes narrowing with interest.

Then she suddenly burst into laughter. "C’mon, chill," she said, waving a hand. "I was just joking."

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, lips twitching. "You have a strange sense of humor."

She grinned. "Keeps things interesting."

Alaric shook his head, amusement finally breaking through his caution. "That it does."

"So what do you do?" Laila asked casually, resting her chin on her hand. "Like... side hustle?"

"I’ve got a gaming website," Alaric replied.

Her eyes widened immediately. "What? Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugged like it was nothing, but there was quiet confidence in the way he spoke. "I started it a while back. At first it was just reviews and walkthroughs, stuff I actually cared about. Then it grew."

"Grew how?" she asked, clearly interested.

"Community forums, tournaments, live streams," he explained. "I host indie developers too, give them a platform to test their games and get real feedback. Ads came later, then partnerships. Now it kind of runs itself... mostly."

"That’s actually really impressive," Laila said, smiling. "You don’t look like the ’sits-behind-a-screen-all-day’ type."

He smirked. "I don’t. I just know how to build things and let them work for me."

She nodded slowly, eyes bright. "Okay, that just made you cooler."

Alaric chuckled. "Careful. You’re inflating my ego."

She laughed. "Too late."

"How do you manage it?" Laila asked, genuinely curious now. "You know, school and all that."

"I don’t do it alone," Alaric said easily. "I’ve got someone helping me manage it."

"Oh?" She lifted a brow. "A partner?"

"More like a co-manager," he corrected. "He handles the technical side when I’m busy, servers, updates, security. I focus on content, deals, and the community. We split the workload so nothing slips."

"That’s smart," Laila said, nodding. "Most people try to do everything themselves and burn out."

He smiled faintly. "Yeah. I learned early that control doesn’t mean doing everything. It means knowing when to delegate."

She studied him for a moment, clearly impressed. "You’re full of surprises, Alaric."

He glanced at her. "You say that like it’s a good thing."

"It is," she replied, without hesitation.

"Tell me," Laila said, leaning forward slightly, "what’s the name of the game?"

Alaric chuckled. "You mean games?"

Her brows lifted. "Plural?"

"Yeah," he said. "It’s not just one. The site hosts a bunch of them, mostly strategy and RPGs. I’m big on story-driven games, ones where choices actually matter. Some are indie, some are originals we’re still developing."

"That’s... actually really cool," she said, eyes lighting up. "So you’re basically building worlds."

He shrugged, but there was pride there. "Something like that. Gives people a place to escape. Or lose themselves for a while."

Laila smiled softly. "I get that."

The waiter returned shortly, carefully placing their plates in front of them.

Laila’s eyes lit up at the sight. "Wow... this looks amazing," she said, glancing at the creamy mushroom pasta and then at the steak.

As they ate, their conversation drifted naturally toward work.

"So you manage all those games, forums, tournaments... and still keep up with school?" Laila asked, leaning back slightly, twirling her fork. "You really know how to handle a lot at once."

Alaric shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It’s not too bad when you enjoy what you do. And having someone to handle the tech side helps a lot."

Laila nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. My restaurant in Paris was like that,.managing people, menus, events... it’s fun, but it’s constant work."

She tilted her head, watching his reaction. "I didn’t think someone like you would understand the thrill of it, but... I can tell you do."

Alaric raised an eyebrow, impressed. "A restaurant in Paris? That’s... seriously impressive."

She shrugged modestly, though her eyes sparkled. "It’s been a dream. I wanted something that’s mine. Something I can build and make people happy with."

"I like that," he said, his voice even but approving. "Ambition suits you."

Laila smirked, leaning slightly closer. "Careful, or I’ll start thinking you’re into me because I’m impressive."

Alaric’s lips curved into a restrained smile. "I’m just acknowledging talent... though I admit, it’s hard not to notice the owner herself."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re... confident. I like that."

The rest of the meal passed with playful banter and shared stories of work and life. Despite the subtle tension between them, there was a warmth growing, a mutual curiosity that neither could ignore.

They finished eating, plates cleared, and Laila reached for her glass of wine, lifting it with a playful smile.

But before she could take a sip, the wine tipped too far, spilling all over her hoodie.

"Oh, great," she muttered, looking down at the red stain spreading across the fabric.

Alaric’s eyes widened slightly. "Uh... ," he said, reaching out instinctively, but he didn’t touch her.

"I need to clean this," she said, frowning. "Could you... help me in the restroom?"

Alaric froze for a moment, caught off guard. Help her? In the restroom? He hesitated, considering the situation carefully. But finally, he nodded, his tone calm but careful. "Alright... come on."

She grabbed her hoodie and led the way, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Thanks. I promise I won’t get you in trouble."

He followed, watching her carefully, making sure to give her space.

The quiet tension between them was almost tangible as they walked toward the restroom together.

On getting to the restroom, Laila stepped in and looked at him. "You too," she said and he walked in and she closed the door.

Worry appeared on his face the moment Laila shut the door. What if someone comes in and misunderstood.