?Chapter 959:


    She turned and found the tip of a dagger kissing her neck, its icy gleam catching the light.


    “Don’t move!” The voice was steeped in arrogance,ced with possessiveness,manding yet edged with yful malice.


    Christina recognized it instantly. It was Terrence—the madman himself. She met his stare, his dark eyes carrying a glimmer of a smile, and asked in a tone as cold as steel, “Did youe here just to kill me?”


    “No, no, no—why would I kill my future wife?” Terrence’sugh was a low, sinister rumble. The vivid purple of his suit only sharpened the lethal allure of his presence.


    “Then what is your purpose?” Christina’s gaze turned frostier still.


    Terrence’s lips curved into a smirk. “No grand reason—only that you refused me a dance. That left me rather displeased. If you agree to dance with me now, I’ll let it go.” As he spoke, he lifted her chin with the edge of the de.


    Christina arched an eyebrow, feeling the icy bite of steel against her skin.


    “Here? You can’t be serious.” A faint crease appeared between Christina’s brows, now certain that Terrence was unwell in the head.


    The de tilted her chin upward, baring the elegant curve of her neck like a jewel on disy.


    “Yes. Right here.” Terrence’s gaze, dark and consuming, slid over her frame, lingering on the delicate ridge of her corbone. Even without moving, she held his full attention.


    “Fine,” she murmured, pretending toply. In the next instant, her eyes hardened, and she took a sharp step back.


    But Terrence was faster. Having anticipated her move, he slipped behind her in one smooth motion.


    Before she could snatch the dagger from his hand, his arm locked firmly around her waist from behind. Her slender form was drawn flush against his solid, heat-radiating chest. The scent of him—rich and potent—closed in from all sides.<fnf319> For more chapters visit fin?novel</fnf319>


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    The de remained near her throat, a silent promise of what might happen if she resisted.


    “My darling, you really do enjoy testing me.” A rough edge crept into Terrence’s voice, the sound colored with a teasing sort of indulgence as his mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile.


    Lowering her gaze, Christina let the chill in her eyes settle like ice over still water. Clearly, this deranged man had learned to read her better—he had already anticipated her next move before she even made it.


    Without warning, his arm cinched tighter around her waist, pulling her into him until there was no space left between them. His breath fanned against her skin as he buried his face in the slope of her neck, drawing in a deep inhale. Her unique scent clung to him, delicate yet intoxicating.


    Something darker stirred inside him—desire sharp enough to blot out reason. What he wanted went far beyond a dance; he wanted to drown in her softness, never caring if he surfaced again.


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