?Chapter 912:


    Dn stayed calm. He dipped a cotton swab into the balm and pulled Robin’s hand back. But this time, when he rubbed it in, he pressed harder.


    “Agh—damn it!” Robin flinched, his face twisting in pain. “What the hell, Dn? You trying to snap my fingers off?”


    Robin tried to yank his hand away, but Dn didn’t let go. “Sorry, I miscalcted the pressure. I’ll be gentler.”


    There was the faintest twitch at the corner of Dn’s lips, but no one caught it.


    Robin wasn’t wrong—Dn had done it on purpose.


    “You liar!” Robin gritted out. “You’re doing this on purpose!”


    “I swear I’m not,” Dn replied smoothly, looking at Christina with wide, innocent eyes. “I’ve never done this before. Must’ve gotten the pressure wrong.” That look—half sheepish, half sweet—was eerily familiar. Christina blinked. It reminded her of Chloe’s puppy-dog face when she wanted something.


    Robin’s eyes darted between the two of them, his jaw tightening. “You’re hurting me. Apologize to me, not flirt with her!” he snapped. How had cold, indifferent Dn learned to feign innocence like that?


    “It’s fine. You didn’t do it on purpose…” Christina said, hesitating as she reached toward Robin’s hand. “Maybe I should—”


    Dn instantly moved Robin’s hand out of her reach. “No need. I learn fast.”


    “This! Isn’t! Something! You! Learn!” Robin gritted out, each word sharper than thest.


    Dn didn’t even flinch. His lips curved ever so slightly as he calmly applied more balm, this time with just enough pressure. Then, meeting Robin’s furious gaze, he asked coolly, “How’s this pressure?”


    “Not bad, just so-so.” Robin refused to admit that the pressure was perfect. Eyes half-closed, he looked like a cat basking in the sun. Having Dn—Lorbridge’s golden boy—at his service was a rare luxury. Even the matriarchs of those influential families never received such privilege.<fn6347> For original chapters go to fι?dnοvel</fn6347>


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    Just as Robin was savoring the moment, Dn’s hands pressed harder.


    “Ah! Ouch!” Robin sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting in pain. “What the hell, Dn! You’re secretly getting back at me again!”


    A flicker of calcted sheepishness crossed Dn’s otherwise cool, unreadable face. “Sorry. Guess I got… a little distracted.”


    Then, Dn nced—ever so innocently—at Christina. That nce alone made Robin’s temper spike.


    “Don’t tell me you’re buying his crap?” Robin stared at Christina, daring her to say she actually believed Dn’s excuse. Only an idiot would buy thatme exnation.


    “Well, Dn has no reason to mess with you,” Christina said gently. “Maybe he really was distracted. He’ll be careful. Besides, it’s almost done.”


    Christina meant it. If Dn wanted revenge, he wouldn’t waste time with little tricks. He’d go straight for the jugr, either through business or something far more decisive. Subtle, petty payback? That was Robin’s style.


    “You silly woman!” Robin ground out each word, his voice tight with frustration. Before he could recover, Dn’s hands pressed even harder, forcing another grimace out of him.


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