MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

As Elena laid eyes on Blake, she leaped out of her SUV, her concern palpable and her composure slipping in the face of his unannounced excursion.

Blake could discern the depth of her worry, recognizing the trouble he had caused her with his impromptu stroll.

"Blake, there you are! What are you doing out here...all alone?" she inquired, attempting to mask her immense concern, though her facade faltered beneath the weight of her emotions.

"Just taking a walk, trying to acquaint myself with the surroundings. The house is becoming a bit monotonous," Blake responded, his gaze locked onto Elena, searching for any signs of vulnerability in her demeanor.

"Monotonous? Am I boring you?" Elena's tone shifted slightly, a hint of insecurity creeping into her voice.

"You? Nah, just needed some fresh air and a taste of the wild," Blake reassured her, his eyes conveying sincerity as he sought to assuage her concerns.

Meanwhile, Drake remained a silent observer, his presence looming in the background as the exchange unfolded.

"But there's nothing out here except for trees and... more trees. Is there?" Elena questioned, her curiosity piqued by Blake's cryptic explanation.

"Yeah, plus some locals who were speaking ill about you," Blake replied casually, his words hanging in the air as Elena's curiosity surged, her eyes scanning the surroundings in search of any potential intruders.

"You've met one of them?" she inquired, her curiosity tinged with a hint of apprehension as she awaited his response.

"Yes, a lady. I tried explaining to her how good you are, but she was adamant in her beliefs and unwilling to change," Blake added, recounting his encounter with the mysterious woman to Elena.

Elena sighed, exchanging a brief glance with Drake before refocusing her attention on Blake.

"You know, poverty clouds judgment and hunger fuels desperation," she began, her voice tinged without pity.

"Let them talk, but maintain your distance from them. They are the bad guys, yet they've already lost to the poverty that consumes them. How pathetic."

Blake nodded in understanding, a wry smile playing on his lips as he mulled over Elena's words and the encounter with the enigmatic woman.

The conflicting perspectives left him grappling with uncertainty, torn between trusting a stranger's judgment and standing by his benefactor's side.

As Elena gestured towards the waiting car, signaling for Blake to join them, Drake interjected with a solution to alleviate Blake's boredom.

"You mentioned being bored at home. Do you watch football?" Drake inquired, offering a potential diversion from the monotony of mansion life.

"Uhh... Yeah, I do," Blake replied, a flicker of familiarity stirring within him at the mention of the sport.

Though he couldn't recall watching football, there was an inexplicable sense of connection to the game, prompting him to entertain the possibility of exploring this newfound interest.

"Then you're at the very wrong place, mate. You're missing out on one of the greatest matches there is," Drake announced enthusiastically as they settled into the car.

Taking his place in the passenger seat, Blake eagerly awaited clarification on the ongoing football action.

"Which teams are playing at the moment?" he asked, eager to catch up on the excitement.

"We've got the great Manchester Derby: Manchester United against Manchester City. And don't forget about the London Derby: Arsenal against Chelsea. Plus, there's El Clásico: Real Madrid against Barcelona. You wouldn't want to miss any of that, would you?" Drake replied, turning back to gauge Blake's reaction.

As the names of the teams washed over him, Blake felt a stirring of strong attachment with one of the clubs, though he couldn't quite pinpoint which one it was.

"That sounds like a blast to watch," Blake replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of diving back into the world of football.

Though he hadn't watched a match since waking up, the passion remained ingrained within him, an indelible part of his identity that transcended memory loss.

A true football fan's passion never fades, even in the face of adversity.

As they journeyed back home, Drake and Blake eagerly delved into discussions about the potential outcomes of the matches and the players who might emerge as the heroes of the day.

Elena, however, remained silent and detached, her mind seemingly preoccupied with thoughts far removed from the excitement of the football match.

It was evident that her attention was elsewhere, likely consumed by the implications of Blake's recent discoveries.

Upon their return home, Drake promptly activated three of the four televisions in the sitting room, tuning them to the sports channel broadcasting the live matches.

With the games already underway and no goals scored in the first five minutes, anticipation hung thick in the air as the two settled in to watch, Elena moved up to her room.

Before Drake could even take his seat to enjoy the match alongside Blake, Elena summoned him for a private conversation.

Obliging her request, Drake left Blake alone in front of the blaring televisions, the volume drowning out any semblance of their conversation.

Positioned on the stairs, Blake could only observe the shadows cast by their figures, their interactions resembling that of an instructor and a student. Elena's gestures conveyed a sense of authority and frustration, suggesting a stern lecture rather than a casual conversation.

Blake's curiosity peaked as he watched Elena's hand movements, noting a particular gesture that seemed ominous, almost threatening in nature. Unable to tear his gaze away, he found himself more intrigued by their exchange than by the unfolding football match.

But by the time Blake noticed Drake's shadow descending the stairs, the conversation had already concluded.

Drake returned with a newfound excitement, his grin betraying the positive outcome of his discussion with Elena.

"This match is heating up," Blake remarked, attempting to feign interest in the game.

"As always," Drake replied simply, his demeanor shifting as he made his way towards the door leading outside.

"Don't you want to watch the game with me?" Blake inquired, curious about Drake's sudden change of plans. He knew Drake had initially intended to enjoy the match.

"I have some work to attend to. I'll try to wrap it up quickly, but it depends on my client's cooperation," Drake explained before vanishing from sight, leaving Blake pondering over the nature of his excitement.

As Blake continued to watch the match, the excitement of the game captivated him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Drake's mysterious demeanor.

What could possibly be more thrilling than the match itself?

As the match neared its conclusion, Blake heard the familiar sound of Drake's car returning.

However, when Drake reappeared, his expression was blank, and he made a beeline for his room without uttering a word to Blake.

"Hey, the match is almost over," Blake called out, but Drake's response was curt: "Yes, I know."

As Drake walked away, Blake noticed a faint trail of blood on the back of his shirt, sparking concern and curiosity. Yet, he knew better than to pry into Drake's affairs without invitation, so he kept his thoughts to himself.