?<strong>Chapter 127:</strong>


    He extended his arms in a warm wee as he looked at Belinda.


    Belinda’s response was a radiant smile as she moved into his embrace.


    Their connection was immediate and heartfelt, reflected in the joyful curl of Johnson’s lips—a smile that radiated theforting warmth of sunlight.


    After they ended the hug, Belinda, buoyed by his presence, inquired, “How long do you n to stay this time?”


    Johnson’s reply came with a reassuring firmness, “I’m not leaving this time.”


    The simplicity of his statement brought a delighted surprise to Belinda’s face. “That’s wonderful!” she eximed, her own decision mirroring his. “I’ve also decided not to return to Chixdon.”


    Johnson’s gentle smile widened. “I know,” he said, his voice soft.


    “Let’s grab lunch together,” Belinda suggested, eager to chat with Johnson.


    Johnson nodded in agreement, but just as he was about to say something, his phone rang.


    “Hold on a moment,” he quickly said, fishing the device from his pocket.


    He answered the call, saying, “Hi, Vincent.”


    Belinda’s curiosity was piqued at the mention of that name, her brows lifting subtly as she tried to gauge the nature of the conversation.


    Johnson’s expression shifted to amusement at whatever Vincent was saying on the other end of the line.


    “Yes, I justnded. I already have ns for lunch, but let’s meet for dinner,” Johnson said, his tone firm and direct.


    He nced at Belinda before speaking into the phone, “Alright, we’ll talk more tonight. See you then.” With that, he quickly ended the call.


    Belinda’s soft chuckle lightened the air as shemented, “Vincent always has impable timing, doesn’t he?”


    Johnson’s smile deepened in agreement. “You are absolutely right,” he responded, putting his phone away. “Now, where are you nning to take me for lunch?”


    “Any particr cravings?” Belinda asked, ready to cater to his preferences.


    Johnson shook his head, his demeanor rxed. “I trust your choice entirely,” he said to Belinda.


    “Follow me, then,” Belinda said with a yful note in her voice, leading the way to Happer Restaurant—a ce Johnson had always enjoyed.


    As Belinda and Johnson entered the familiar restaurant, she said, “It’s been a while since yourst visit here. Let’s see if the dishes still live up to your memories.”


    Settling into his seat, Johnson passed a set of tableware to Belinda.


    The small gesture was a reminder of his gentlemanly nature.


    Oncefortable, he turned the conversation to a more personal topic, probing gently, “So, how are things going with you and Lucas now? Have you two gone through the divorce?”


    Johnson had known both Vincent and Lucas for years, his friendship with them rooted in the shared experiences and status that came with being part of Owathe’s elite circle.


    As the heir to the Hoffman family, the second most powerful among the city’s eight prominent families, Johnson had always been an influential figure.


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