?Chapter 100:
Dn’s breath grew heavier, a little quicker, as he struggled to rein in the storm inside him. His lips inched toward Christina’s, instinctively drawn to the warmth between them.
But just as Dn thought their lips would meet, Christina pulled away. He froze, caught off guard, his brows knitting ever so slightly in annoyance.
Before he could speak, Christina slipped out of his arms and kicked off her heels without warning.
rmed, Dn stretched his long legs and caught her hand just in time, fearing she might bolt toward the street. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, husky—tinged with worry and resignation.
“I’m proving I’m not drunk!” Christina dered with a tiny hup.
“And how exactly do you n on doing that?” he asked, his tone softening.
“Let’s race. I bet I can outrun you,” she said, eyes bright with yful confidence.
Dn stared at the pink flush on her cheeks for a moment, and then, without a word, swept her off her feet.
“Hey! We didn’t even start running yet. Are you cheating?” Christina frowned.
Dn chuckled under his breath. “It’s toote now. The race is postponed till tomorrow.”
When he didn’t get a response, he looked down and met her unwavering gaze. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing. I just think you have a really nice smile. You should show it more,” she said with a gentle smile.
He didn’t reply, but a brief, quiet smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he carried her forward, pausing only to pick up her abandoned heels. Whenever Christina drank, she carried a certain childlike charm—unguarded, free.
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He ced her gently in the passenger seat. As he reached over to fasten her seatbelt, her fingers suddenly curled around his tie.
He frowned slightly and reached to pull it free, but before he could, she tugged sharply, drawing him close.
His body was pulled forward, and he braced himself against the seat to keep from crashing into her. Their faces hovered just inches apart.
At that moment, the world around them fell quiet. Only the sound of their breath and the thudding of their hearts filled the silence. It felt like time had stopped.
“Why aren’t you smiling?” she asked softly, her brow creased with mild frustration.
Dn hesitated and then forced a smile—but it came out stiff and unsure. He wasn’t someone who smiled easily.
“That’s better,” Christina said with a satisfied grin. “You look even more handsome when you smile.” She let go of his tie and settled back in the seat.
“Get some rest. We’ll be there soon,” Dn said quietly.
“Alright.” She closed her eyes without protest. Within seconds, her breathing evened out, and she drifted to sleep.
By the time Dn arrived at her home, she was sound asleep. “Mr. Scott,” Aylin greeted with a respectful bow, nked by a few household staff.
Dn gave a slight frown and waved them off. They took the hint and quietly stepped away.
Not wanting to wake Christina, Dn gently lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs. He ced her carefully on the bed, pulling the covers over her sleeping form.
As he looked down at her peaceful face, something stirred in his chest. A strange heat. He swallowed hard and tugged at his tie, trying topose himself.
He allowed himself onest nce—then quietly turned and slipped out, closing the door behind him.
Back in his own ce, Dn opened his wardrobe. His eyesnded on a white shirt hanging neatly inside, marked faintly with a lipstick stain. The moment in the car shed across his mind—their closeness, their breath mingling in the silence. He could still feel the ghost of her lips against his. His thoughts spiraled, tangled and loud.
He reached for the white shirt, hesitated, and hung it back again. Then, without a word, he headed into the bathroom. After washing up, he stood at the sink, gripping its edges, staring at his own reflection. His sharp features were unreadable, but his eyes burned with something unspoken. And then her voice echoed in his mind—soft, tipsy, and filled withughter.
.
.
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