?Chapter 1288:


    As she scooped food onto his te, Dn felt a warm rush of happiness settle over him.


    The more time he spent with her, the harder it became to picture leaving this city. He silently hoped she’d return to him soon.


    “Eat up,” Dn said, cing her favorite food onto her te. “If I’m not around and you’re craving something, just head to Morfort. Tell them to make it just for you.”


    Christina smiled softly. “Careful, I might end up eating you broke.”


    “I’ll just earn more,” Dn said with a cocky grin.


    “You really are impressive,” Christina said, her tone full of genuine admiration.


    Normally, she’d think someone was just showing off by saying those words. But Dn wasn’t like that.


    He had a rare gift for business and a sharp instinct for making money.


    Even if he lost it all, she knew he’d rebuild from the ground up without breaking a sweat.


    Her simplepliment made Dn grin without even realizing it.


    “What part of me is so impressive, huh?” Dn teased, clearly fishing for more praise.


    He knew once he went back to Dorfield, he’d be on his own again. So he held onto these sweet moments like they were gold.


    “Everything about you,” Christina said with a smile, gently feeding him a piece of braised pork.


    “Take your cooking, for example. I really think it’s the best. No one else’s food evenes close. Your dishes are amazing… just knowing I’ll get to eat your cooking for the rest of my life makes me so happy,” Christina said sincerely.


    Her tone was so genuine that Dn couldn’t help but feel deeply pleased.


    Dnughed softly. “Whatever you want, I’ll cook it. I’ll be your personal chef for life.”


    Christina smiled shyly, her eyes meeting his with quiet happiness.


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    Their rtionship wasn’t wild or dramatic. Some might even say it was ordinary. But to her, it felt perfect.


    Sometimes she pictured them growing old together, wondering if they’d still be this happy.


    In a vast luxury estate in Violetford, a grand mansion towered like a castle, majestic and intimidating.


    Inside a dimly lit room, the furniture faded into the shadows. Terrence walked in and saw a shadowed figure sitting silently in a wheelchair.


    “Have you made your decision?” a raspy old voice asked, followed by a harsh cough.


    “Can you let her go?” Terrence asked quietly, his voice tight.


    “If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll have someone else handle it,” the man replied coldly, his tone firm andmanding.


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