Chapter 153: The innocent Betrayal
Azazel had barely pulled the chair closer to the dining table when Ava slipped into the seat beside him.
Her presence was soft yet lively, the faint scent of her jasmine-scented hair brushing against his senses as she settled down gracefully.
"Azazel," she called gently, tilting her head toward him, her voice carrying a warmth that brushed against his ear like a feather.
"Yes," Azazel responded, his tone calm, almost absentminded, though the subtle upward curve of his lips revealed he had heard her fully.
Ava’s heart lifted at that simple reply, her smile blooming across her face as she glanced up to study his profile.
His features, sharp yet composed, caught the light in a way that made his dark eyes glimmer faintly.
She had something to say, something resting on the tip of her tongue, but before her courage could catch up with her words, the atmosphere shifted.
The quiet rhythm of the dining hall broke with the sudden creak of a door swinging open from the left.
The hinges groaned faintly, and Ava instinctively turned her head, her brows knitting together.
Through the doorway stepped Cassandra.
For a fleeting second, the air seemed to pause. Cassandra’s eyes, wide and searching, locked immediately onto the figure of Azazel seated at the table.
Her breath caught audibly, and the stillness of her reaction was louder than any exclamation.
Ava blinked in surprise, watching closely, but before she could fully grasp the weight of Cassandra’s expression, movement burst into the room.
Like a flash of light, Cassandra’s small figure darted across the floor.
The swish of her dress brushed against the polished tiles, and Ava sat frozen, her eyes widening as Cassandra closed the distance with startling speed.
"Azazel—" Ava began, her words swallowed mid-breath as Cassandra stopped right before him.
With both hands, small and delicate yet trembling with force, Cassandra grasped Azazel’s shoulders tightly.
The motion jolted him, his steady composure momentarily disrupted. His brows arched, his body stiffened, and the faintest flicker of surprise crossed his face.
Ava, still sitting at his side, could only stare, her lips parted as though to ask what in the world Cassandra was doing.
Before Azazel could protest—or even fully react—Cassandra lifted herself, balancing on his shoulders with surprising ease and determination.
The motion was fluid, almost desperate, and within a heartbeat, she had perched herself upon his lap. Ava’s breath caught sharply in her throat.
Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, her knuckles pale as her mind tried to comprehend what her eyes were seeing.
And yet Cassandra was not finished.
With a small but determined movement, she leaned forward, her slender arms snaking around his neck.
The press of her embrace was tight, almost possessive, her cheek burying itself against his shoulder. The faint tremble in her form betrayed both longing and relief.
The soft scent of her perfume—sweet and innocent like powdered roses—rose between them, filling the air with a fragile sweetness.
Azazel’s body went rigid beneath her sudden weight.
His dark gaze flickered down at the crown of her head, his lips parting slightly as if caught between words and silence.
His usually unreadable mask had cracked; his surprise was laid bare.
But it was not only him. Ava’s shock mirrored his, her eyes wide, her lips pressed tight to contain the storm of questions flooding her chest.
She had not expected this, not from Cassandra.
"Brother Azazel," Cassandra’s voice broke through, muffled yet tender, her pout brushing against the side of his neck.
Her tone was laced with a childish sweetness, but beneath it, a tremor of raw emotion quivered, as though she feared letting him go would cause him to vanish before her eyes.
Her arms tightened around him, her fragile frame pressing against his with unexpected strength.
Ava could only watch, her breath shallow, her thoughts scattered, as the sudden embrace turned the quiet dining hall into a stage of silence, surprise, and an emotion she could not yet name.
---
"Hm, Cassy," Azazel hummed softly, his deep voice carrying a question laced with gentleness.
Almost instinctively, his arm rose and wrapped around her small back, steadying her against him.
The warmth of his hand pressed lightly through the fabric of her dress, grounding her as if to say he was present, he was listening.
Slowly, Cassandra leaned back, just enough to tilt her face up toward him.
Her lips were drawn into a soft pout, her cheeks faintly flushed as though she had been holding something in for far too long.
Her wide eyes glistened, searching his expression, and with a little sigh she let her words tumble out.
"Why didn’t you come back since your last visit? I was waiting for you to come back."
Her voice trembled on the edge of innocence and disappointment, the confession slipping from her like a secret she hadn’t meant to reveal.
At that moment, both Azazel and Ava reacted in unison.
Azazel’s brows lifted, his lips parting slightly as her words settled in.
Ava, sitting stiffly beside them, raised her own brow in disbelief, her head snapping lightly toward Cassandra as if to confirm she had heard correctly.
"Oh my..." Azazel exhaled, the sound half a sigh, half a startled chuckle. His dark eyes softened as they rested on her, pity washing over his expression.
The sight of her small, pouting face pulled something gentle out of him that even Ava hadn’t seen before.
He looked at her not with irritation or confusion, but with something deeper—something careful.
"I’m sorry, dear," he said at last, his tone hushed and filled with remorse. His head dipped lower, his voice brushing against the edge of sincerity.
Even Ava, watching from the side, could hear the weight of his apology. It wasn’t just a phrase—it was an embrace in words.
Cassandra blinked at him, her pout quivering before breaking into a faint, forgiving smile.
"No... please, don’t have that look on your face," she whispered, her tiny hand brushing lightly against his jaw as though to soothe him. "It’s okay. I forgive you."
The confession was simple, but the way she said it carried the quiet ache of someone who had longed for something in silence.
She didn’t admit how many days she had counted, nor how often she had looked toward the door, waiting.
She only gave him her forgiveness, small but whole.
"Now that you’re back, everything is alright," she continued, her voice growing softer, almost musical.
"We can play, and even sis is alright too." Her head tilted to one side in a delicate angle, the smile she offered fragile yet sincere, like sunlight after rain.
Azazel’s lips curved faintly, his eyes narrowing as he caught the weight behind her words. Gently, he asked, "Oh? Was she not alright when I wasn’t here?"
The question rolled off his tongue lightly, as though casual, but a subtle glimmer of amusement sparked in his gaze.
His shoulders shifted faintly, his chest lifting with a suppressed chuckle he tried to bury.
He turned his head ever so slightly—toward Ava.
And there it was, the expression on her face. Ava’s eyes had widened, her lashes fluttering rapidly as disbelief twisted across her features.
She looked from Cassandra back to Azazel, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Her chest rose and fell sharply, and in her mind, the question thundered:
Is he really... is he really trying to fish information about me from her sister?
Her heart jolted against her ribs, the mixture of shock and annoyance burning through her like fire.
The air felt tighter around her, the closeness between Azazel and Cassandra far too vivid, and yet it wasn’t the embrace that unsettled her most. It was his words.
His subtle, probing tone. His sharpness hiding behind that softened smile.
Azazel, meanwhile, allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upward, enjoying the flicker of disbelief painted so openly across Ava’s face.
He held Cassandra close still, yet his gaze lingered briefly on Ava, as if teasing her with the thought: I see you. I know.
And the dining room, for that fragile moment, brimmed with tension—innocence, mischief, and the unspoken weight of secrets hovering between them.
Cassandra hadn’t told him everything in detail at first, but Ava knew her sister too well.
The moment anyone asked Cassandra a direct question, she always ended up spilling far more than intended.
It was simply her way—innocent, earnest, unable to hold anything back.
And as expected, Cassandra’s face softened into a little frown, her lips trembling before they curved into a pout.
Slowly, she shook her head, her hair brushing lightly against Azazel’s chest as she leaned back to look at him.
"Brother... I heard everything that happened," she said, her voice small but certain. "I know it wasn’t your fault, but... you hurt my love Avy." Her cheeks puffed out in indignation, making her look like a child scolding someone far older.
Azazel’s body grew tense. His hand, still resting against her back, stiffened slightly as her words landed heavier than expected.
He didn’t speak, his expression carefully masked, though his silence betrayed his unease.
Beside him, Ava had been watching, her lips pressed in a thin line.
But as Cassandra’s pout deepened and those words of defense for her slipped free, Ava’s face warmed.
Her chest fluttered with something unshakable—a tender smile rose unbidden, softening her features with gratitude.
Cassandra noticed, and as though encouraged by Ava’s reaction, she continued.
"Since you left, Brother, my sister no longer smiled," Cassandra whispered, her small voice quivering.
"Even when I tried to act silly, or say something funny, she didn’t laugh anymore. She just stayed quiet." Her tone carried the ache of someone who had watched too closely, too long.
Her little hands clutched at Azazel’s shirt as she leaned forward, her eyes wide, pleading for him to understand.
"But look at her today," she said with sudden brightness, pointing toward Ava with her tiny finger. "Without me even doing anything, she’s smiling."
Azazel blinked, his gaze slipping toward Ava.
Indeed, there she was—her smile tender, her lashes lowered in a way that revealed more than she perhaps realized.
Something stirred in his chest, though his face remained still.
"Oh? Is that so, Cassy?" he asked at last, his tone deceptively light.
"Yes!" Cassandra answered instantly, nodding so hard her hair bounced around her face.
She looked completely certain, her pout vanishing into a triumphant grin.
"She was so sad that she would just sit at the dining table, or hide in her room every day, doing nothing."
The little girl lifted her hands, flailing them about to demonstrate Ava’s gloom.
She hunched her shoulders, drooped her head, and mimicked a lifeless figure sitting with folded arms.
Ava’s cheeks burned crimson. She leaned forward quickly, her hand darting out to cover Cassandra’s.
"Hehe, stop it, okay? Your brother has heard enough." Her voice wavered with embarrassment, her attempt at laughter falling flat as she tried to silence her sister’s detail-ridden honesty.
But Cassandra only pouted again, tugging her hand away. "But sis, Brother Azazel didn’t say he doesn’t want to hear it. In fact—" she turned her head, her wide eyes shining as she looked up at him. "He asked for it. Right, Brother?"
The question hung in the air like bait, her childish certainty impossible to ignore.
Azazel didn’t hesitate. Slowly, his lips curved upward into a smile—broad, confident, and undeniably amused.
His eyes glimmered as he gave a deliberate nod. "That’s right, Cassy."
Ava froze.
Cassandra clapped her little hands in satisfaction, but it was Azazel’s next move that sent Ava’s heart racing.
He shifted slightly in his chair, his arm tightening protectively around Cassandra as he turned his head toward Ava.
Their eyes met.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, sharp and knowing, his gaze piercing through her composure.
It was the kind of smirk that said far more than words, that teased her silently: You see, I wanted to hear this. I wanted to know everything. And now I do.
Heat rushed into Ava’s cheeks, her heart stuttering wildly in her chest.
Her smile wavered, caught somewhere between irritation and flustered disbelief.
Azazel only leaned back, that smirk never leaving his lips.