Just then, Michael's voice snapped her back to reality.
"I thought you'd forgotten about me, June Lucius!" he teased, his voice tinged with annoyance.
A wicked smile spread across June's face.
"Oh, Michael... How could I ever forget you?" she purred, her tone dripping with false sweetness.
"Are you ready to do me a little favor?"
"You know, Silva's still pretending to be pregnant," June sneered, pacing by the window. "We still have a chance to make her yours. So why not visit her and claim your child?"
A sly grin crept onto her face as more ideas flooded her mind.
"And if she turns out to be... unwilling, why not take her to court?" June's gaze glinted with a wicked smile.
Meanwhile, Michael leaned back in his room, chewing on a straw as his lips curled into a smirk.
"Of course. Leave her to me," he drawled, his tone disturbingly casual.
"But I have to say, I'm quite pleased you're so willing to help, June," he added, his eyes darkening with a twisted smile.
A shiver ran down June's spine, and she forced a tight-lipped smile despite the disgust clawing at her.
"Of course. You're the right one for her," she replied smoothly. "Besides, your love seems... genuine."
"Freak," June thought, suppressing a shudder. Memories of Michael's obsession flashed through her mind—how he used to ask for everything Silva had touched, and how she once caught him gathering Silva's trash, sealing it in a ziplock bag labeled with her name.
The disturbing sight still haunted her, but she pushed the memory aside and focused on manipulating him.
"As long as you play your part, you'll get what you want," she thought, her expression hardening.
"Since I'm still unable to support you physically, rest assured I still have leverage over my father and other allies out there," June said, keeping her tone confident. "And once she's yours, she's yours forever."
"Alright then, June. I'll be more than happy to see that," Michael replied, his voice disturbingly calm.
June hung up, her expression hardening.
"Well, he's useful despite his creepy behavior," she thought, setting her phone down.
Meanwhile, in his room, Michael glanced at a door next to his closet, a strange blush tinting his cheeks.
"Oh, my dear Silva..." he whispered, his eyes fixed on the collage of photos on his wall—all of Silva, from candid shots to old high school pictures.
"To think these lips actually touched this straw," he murmured, pulling the straw from his mouth and stroking it with his fingers.
His gaze turned dark, jealousy simmering beneath his twisted smile.
"But I'm truly saddened. How cruel of you to marry another man while I'm still alive!"
With a sudden, violent motion, he swung open the door to a small, hidden room cluttered with Silva's belongings—everything he had collected through June or back in high school. He lifted a pair of her underwear to his face, inhaling deeply, a low moan slipping from his lips.
Turning toward the window, his grip tightened around the fabric.
"I'll either have you... or die trying!" he vowed, his eyes glinting with a sinister obsession.
"My ethereal doll!"
He added grabbing a Silva personal made doll.