Chapter 83 He placed a hand on her sweaty hair...

54.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then Binga's voice, resigned to his fate, came through: "Alright, got it. I'll help you check. Tell me, who are you looking for?"

As he spoke, his voice changed from one of compromise to one of gloating. "Who on earth is it that's worthy of you asking me to investigate? Could it be some guy? Are you tired of playing with gin? I support you in trying something different."

I held the phone and fell silent.

After a long pause, I whispered, "Brandy."

"What?" Binga seemed not to hear clearly.

"Brandy. She should be from the organization, but I don't know if she's a man or a woman, or if she's still alive."

Binga was stunned for a moment before speaking, "I don't remember there being such a person in the organization. Haven't you been with the organization longer than I have? Don't you know?"

I pursed my lips: "I don't know, I want to know."

"Then why didn't you ask..." Binga's voice suddenly paused. After realizing something, his tone became strangely excited. He murmured, "Interesting. Yes, brandy. Why is there no brandy..."

Well, while Binga joined the Black Organization voluntarily, he didn't do so out of admiration or yearning for the organization. He simply wanted to become stronger. Just like his constant desire to defeat Gin and take his current position, it wasn't for the so-called power to speak, but to prove he was powerful enough, even more powerful than the renowned Top Killer.

So, in fact, his loyalty to the Black Organization is far less than that of Gin, or even Vermouth.

This is also the primary reason why I asked Binga to find me to investigate brandy.

The reason they went to Binga was naturally because of his intelligence-gathering ability. Needless to say, he was also proficient in computer technology. Even if he didn't have the authority to investigate the dusty files of the Black Organization, he might be able to find out something by hacking into the backend.

After all, while the Black Organization casts a wide net to recruit computer talent, such as Taku Itakura, whom Vermouth is in charge of contacting, how many truly capable geniuses are there, and how many can be utilized by the Black Organization? Binga is a leader in this area, otherwise he wouldn't have been assigned to Interpol as a technician and would have gone on to kill so many people in future theatrical releases.

But the most important thing is——

He will be interested in the "secrets" of the Black Organization, he will help me, but he won't ask me why, and it won't have any impact.

Of course, I could ask Gin or Vodka—forget Vodka, he might not know. I could also ask Vermouth. They probably wouldn't even need to investigate, and they'd know everything more comprehensively and easily than Binga, who needed to investigate.

But I can't ask.

If Brandy is indeed one of my biological parents, as I think, then they must have their reasons for keeping it a secret from me. This might be like Pandora's box. If I open it, what bad news will it bring?

For example, they hid it from me because I was too useless to inherit the code name "Brandy", but the fact that I was aware of the existence of "Brandy" meant that this piece of mud like me could still try harder and see if I could climb up the wall?

Oh no, that's horrible.

This kind of thing is absolutely not allowed!!!

Binga's voice interrupted my wandering thoughts, with a professional calmness and a hint of excitement: "Don't worry, I will be careful and will not expose myself, let alone expose you."

Binga's promise does sound touching, but...

"I'm not important. You're the important one. You must be absolutely careful. It doesn't matter if you can't find out." I said worriedly, "I don't really need to know the answer."

It's not that I'm moved by Binga's loyalty, although that's certainly true, but mainly...

If Brandy really had something to do with me, then when the Black Organization discovered Binga was investigating Brandy, they would definitely think it was my idea! After all, who in the Black Organization didn't know that the only person who could get along with Binga was me, the lively, kind, beautiful, lovely, generous, considerate, and gentle one?

55.

Then someone may ask, if I don’t want Gin to know that I am investigating Brandy, how could I dare to call Binga at Gin’s house and ask him to investigate Brandy?

Drink, of course, because Gin himself is not at home at the moment!

After hanging up the phone, I opened the chat page with Gin again.

I had almost recovered today, so Gin went out... not to do a mission, but I asked him to go out and buy the small cake I wanted to eat.

Worried that he would come back before Binga and I finished our conversation, I asked him to go in another direction to buy me some hot cocoa that had gone cold because I hadn't finished it the day we had our snowball fight.

[My only brother: I just want to drink this when I’m sick? ]

I replied with an emoji of a kitten with tears in its eyes and acting like a spoiled brat.

I thought Gin would treat it coldly like before, reading my message but not replying, but he replied with a period.

Just like the "right" he said last night before I fell into a deep sleep.

When did Gin become so willing to respond to my every request?

Last night's statement was not a tacit agreement that left him no room for denial.

But it’s true…

"The food has arrived, go to the kitchen." Gin pushed open the door and met my stunned eyes that I subconsciously raised from the phone screen.

Seeing that I hadn't reacted, Gin still had his black windbreaker on and seemed to be carrying the chill of the outdoors as he walked. He walked towards me and stretched out his hand to me who was still lying on the bed.

"Can you walk?"

Logically, I should be able to walk, but are you kidding? Gin asked me this, how can I still walk?

The package cannot.

I opened my arms, pierced my eyes and said, "I have no strength left~"

Gin lowered his eyes and looked at me, his eyebrows slightly raised, but he did not expose me. Instead, he leaned down indulgently and gave me a princess hug easily.

He held me in his arms and walked steadily towards the dining room. After putting me on the dining chair, he turned around and got a paper bag, from which he took out beautifully packaged small cakes and hot cocoa.

He opened the cake box for me, and inside was a strawberry cream cake that looked great. The red strawberries were bright and juicy, and the cream icing was delicate and tempting.

The considerate and kind (?) Gin then inserted the straw and pushed the hot cocoa in front of me.

"Eat." He sat down opposite me, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were still on me.

This greedy girl naturally couldn't wait to start eating and drinking, but as she started eating, her heartbeat inexplicably started to accelerate again.

The sweet aroma of the cake and the rich fragrance of the hot cocoa, coupled with Gin looking at me quietly...it all feels so warm that it seems unreal.

"Formation." I mustered my courage and couldn't help but want to confirm, "When you said 'right' yesterday... was it what I thought it meant...?"

Gin didn't answer immediately. He leaned back in his chair and looked at me with a deep gaze, as if he was examining me, as if he was confirming something.

After a few seconds, he spoke, his voice low but clear: "What do you think?"

This is the way of throwing the problem back again!

"I think so." I looked him straight in the eyes and said word by word, "You like me a lot, even...right?"

In the end, I still didn't dare to continue to talk about the comparison between me and the Black Organization.

It’s so annoying. Why does it feel like there’s always a mystery between Gin and me?

It's Gin's problem. He never speaks directly. His affection for me won't make him reject me, but he won't fall in love with someone like other ordinary people, even me, especially me?

Or is it my problem? I am too greedy. I want his love but don’t want him to like me completely. I don’t dare to give my true heart to him?

Sorry, I regret it, I regret it again.

I will definitely not play snowball fights next time. Being sick really affects my smart brain.

Gin looked at me silently, his gaze seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, pressing me so hard that I could hardly breathe. Just when I was about to give up and wanted to look away, he suddenly stood up.

Instead of coming around to me, he leaned over, put his hands on the dining table, and moved his upper body over the table, approaching me.

The distance between us was instantly shortened, so close that I could clearly see his long, distinct eyelashes and the small, nervous self in his eyes.

"It seems that after being ill for a while," he said with a hint of teasing, "I have become more honest and won't run away anymore."

His eyes dropped to my lips, then slowly moved up to lock with mine again.

"Yes." He stared at me. "That's what I mean."

Be honest...don't run away...

He, he found out?

However, before I could react, his face moved closer, his eyes fixed on the little trace of white cream that I had gotten from my fork due to my nervous movements.

"It's dirty." He said, then lowered his head and covered the cream with his warm lips accurately.

Not an eager kiss, but one with a slow, measured...almost savoring quality.

The tip of his tongue gently brushed across the corner of my lips, sweeping away the sweetness.

The movements were gentle, yet carried a strong sense of aggression and possessiveness.

My mind went blank in an instant, and I could only feel the softness and warmth of his lips... and that heart-pounding touch.

He didn't go deeper, just lingering for a moment, as if confirming his territory. Then, he stepped back slightly, his nose almost touching mine, his dark green eyes bottomless, filled with emotion.

He brushed the tip of his thumb across my lower lip, his voice a little hoarse: "That's what you've been asking."

"W-what?" Am I still sick? Why can't I understand what Gin is saying?

He seemed to chuckle, so softly that it was almost inaudible.

Then, he lowered his head again, and this time, the kiss fell on my lips, no longer just a light taste, but a deep kiss to confirm ownership.

The muscles in his arms as he supported himself on the dining table were tense, his long silver hair hanging down and tangling with my black hair, forming a private, narrow space that was completely isolated from the outside world.

After a long time, he stepped back slightly, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes filled with dark desire and a bit of struggling rationality.

"you……"

"I can." The arm around his neck tightened, and I raised my head and pressed my lips against his again, "Don't run away."

Did you stop after you seduced me? So what if you haven't recovered yet?

"Zhen..." I took advantage of the gap when he kissed my neck and whispered in his ear, panting. My voice was filled with a charm and temptation that was unfamiliar to myself, "Hold me... to the bedroom... not here..."

…

The clothes became a hindrance, the buttons were broken, the fabric rustled, and the cool air touched the skin briefly, then was covered by his even hotter body temperature.

"You, you like me." I tried hard to finish my words. "W-won't you ask me?"

He raised his head from where it had been buried in my chest. His silver hair was disheveled, his breathing was heavy, and beads of sweat even formed on his forehead. Under the dim light, he looked at me, still lost in thought and asking questions, his eyes as dark as indissoluble ink.

He leaned over and kissed my lips again, swallowing all my whimpers, and then, his movements were slow and firm.

…

In the end, I felt like I had turned into a piece of melted butter.

His body was covered in sweat, and his lower body was wet.

At first, Gin was considerate of my recent recovery and didn't toss me around as much as usual, even though the intensity of the process was no less. And then...

So fierce, as if he really wanted to pierce me.

Especially when I asked him why he didn't ask me.

56.

Gin could feel Yingzi's breath brushing against his chest.

Rapid.

Faint.

Warm.

...sweet.

She no longer had the strength to lift a finger, perhaps not even the strength to think.

Gin's hand on her smooth back tightened slightly, his fingertips sinking into the soft texture, leaving barely noticeable red marks. At this moment, she curled up so docilely, as if she was born to be in his arms.

Her trembling, her whimpering, the blush blooming on her skin, and even her completely dependent posture after being exhausted...all of this was ignited, shaped, and completely controlled by him personally.

And he, too.

In the darkness, his voice rang out, hoarse after lovemaking and with an unquestionable declaration.

Like the whispers of a ghost.

"You really have no chance of escaping."

"but."

"You've never had the chance before."

This is a statement that coldly reveals the ending that was destined from the beginning.

No matter how proactive or retreating she was, from the moment she appeared before him, the rope of fate had already tied her firmly in his hands.

He placed a kiss on her sweaty hair.

"Go to sleep."

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The author has something to say: Why does it feel like the eldest brother was written as a damp male ghost (kneeling down)? Actually, I wrote it, deleted it, and wrote it again. Never mind, let’s just write it like this.

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