Chapter 1803:


    Gillian was pretending to be asleep, though it was growing increasingly difficult to stay still and keep her eyes closed. She was locked in a silent debate — should she finally “wake up,” or keep up the pretense a little longer?


    Even without looking at him, she could feel the weight of his gaze fixed on her, steady and intent. The car had been parked for some time, yet he simply sat there, unmoving. His stillness unsettled her. A sudden fear crept in — what if Alban changed his mind and ordered the driver to take her and Adide to the Martel house instead?


    Just as she resolved to pretend to stir, Alban leaned in and whispered close to her ear.


    “Gillian, we’re here,” he said softly. His voice carried an unusual warmth that sent an unexpected tremor through her.


    “Oh?” Gillian acted as though she had only just opened her eyes, turning her head toward him in a slow, drowsy way.


    She was not prepared for how close he was. Their noses were nearly touching. She flinched instinctively, eyes going wide, as the realization struck her — if either of them moved even slightly, their lips would meet.


    Her ears burned. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and her heart lurched into a rapid, unsteady rhythm. She noticed Alban’s breathing had grown deeper, and the awareness of it made her own breath catch. Not wanting him to see how flustered she was, she quickly pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back, creating some distance between them.


    “I’m sorry about that,” Gillian said at once, the words tumbling out before she could think.


    Alban blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “It’s alright. We’ve reached the Jones estate,” he replied.


    “Right. I’ll go speak to the guards so they let the car through,” Gillian said, and stepped out of the vehicle.


    Fо???????? ???? о?? ??a??no????????.с????


    She reached for Adide, intending to carry her inside, but Alban drew the child gently away before she could.


    “Let me carry her in,” he said, concern evident in his expression — he could see the exhaustion written across Gillian’s face.


    “No, I’ll take her,” Gillian insisted. “The Jones family doesn’t allow unfamiliar visitors inside without prior permission.”


    The reminder brought Alban back to reality. Their two families were still maintaining the appearance of hostility. He said nothing more and quietly transferred the sleeping girl into Gillian’s arms.


    “Watch your step,” he said with a slight frown, the urge to offer more help barely contained.


    “Don’t worry, I can manage,” Gillian replied.


    Her arms ached under Adide’s weight, but she knew the estate’s car would be waiting just inside the entrance to collect them.


    She walked toward the gate, then paused and turned to look at Alban onest time.


    “You should head home and get some rest,” she said, doing her best to keep the ache out of her voice.


    Then she turned and walked away with Adide held close, her steps steady and deliberate. She did not look back.


    Alban stood watching until she had disappearedpletely from view, a sharp pressure settling in his chest — the feeling of something precious slipping away, something he had no right to hold onto.


    .


    .


    .