?Chapter 1724:
Gillian didn’t catch on right away, but when the realization hit, heat rushed to her face and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Reacting on instinct, she snapped, “Shameless!”
Alban’s grip locked her wrists in ce, and no matter how fiercely she fought, she couldn’t wrench herself free.
“Let me go.” She shot him a furious look, her chest tight with fear.
A chilling thought took hold of her—what if Alban truly meant to kill her? The moment she realized she had no strength to resist him, hopelessness swallowed her whole. If only someone would burst through that door right now and pull her out of his clutches.
“Don’t move.” Alban’s brows knit together, his face dark and severe. This woman had an uncanny ability to awaken the rawest impulses buried deep within him.
Terrified by the intensity in his expression, Gillian frozepletely, scarcely daring to breathe.
The suffocating tension shattered the instant Alban caught her reaction and let out a softugh.
“What are youughing at?” Gillian scowled, clearly annoyed.
Alban released her wrists and leaned back, propping himself halfway against the bed. “Are you certain you don’t want to take a shower?” he asked.
Gillian couldn’t make sense of his words. She hugged the nket tightly to her chest and watched him with guarded eyes.
He only lifted a brow, a teasing curve touching his lips. “Aren’t the Jones family supposed toe get you? The event should be just about finished.” He nced at his watch, speaking in an unhurried tone.
Only then did the truth dawn on her. She moved to rise, but the weight of Alban’s stare made her pause. Her fingers clenched around the nket.
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“You… close your eyes,” she murmured.
“Alright.” This time, Albanplied without protest. Not only did he shut his eyes, but he reclined fully onto the bed.
Gillian was momentarily stunned—she hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. His cooperation was soplete that she began to suspect he was plotting something behind the scenes.
Moving carefully, she slipped off the bed, gathered the clothes strewn across the floor, and rushed into the bathroom.
Just by listening to her hurried footsteps, Alban could easily picture her flustered, frantic state, and the corners of his mouth lifted despite himself. He slowly opened his eyes, a glint of amusement flickering within them. His spirits were inexplicably light, an unfamiliar warmth lingering in his chest.
Before long, the smile faded from his face, his features cooling degree by degree. He would uncover the truth about whoever had dared to scheme against him.
With that, Alban rose abruptly and began pulling on his clothes. After dressing, he cast onest lingering look at the tightly shut bathroom door before leaving.
When Gillian finally stepped out, Alban was nowhere to be seen.
Her gaze fell on the disheveled bed, and a dull ache spread through her chest, leaving her hollow inside. She lifted her hands and lightly tapped her own cheeks, forcing herself back toposure.
They belonged to entirely separate worlds—there had never been any chance for them, not in this lifetime. She had to keep reminding herself not to indulge in foolish longing for people or things forever beyond her reach. No matter what had passed between them, to Alban she would amount to nothing more than a joke—not even worth remembering as a fleeting stranger.
Gillian struggled to steady herself and tried to coax a smile onto her face, but it simply wouldn’te. Her lips felt just as heavy as the weight pressing on her heart.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sudden knocking made her jump.
She knew better than to hope, yet irrational expectations crept in all the same. Could it be Alban, returning for her?
She hastened toward the door, the heaviness at her lips easing slightly as she carefully slowed her breathing. She swung it open at once—and the tentative smile on her face froze.
The instant she saw who stood there, the warmth in her chest vanished, reced by crushing disappointment.
So… it really wasn’t him.
.
.
.