Chapter 189
The car soon arrived at a quiet residential area and stopped in front of a villa nestled at the far end of the complex. The villa wasn’t particularly large, but it exuded charm. Inside, a small garden flourished with a variety of flowers and plants trailing down from the second-floor balcony. White tiles adorned the paths, while the red brick walls and wooden fences created a rustic charm. A small pond sat at one corner of the garden, with a cherry tree standing beside it, giving the whole scene a peaceful, idyllic atmosphere.
As Tony’s car pulled to a stop, a caretaker rushed forward to collect the keys. After Tony handed them over, the man opened the garage door to the first floor. Tony’s voice, calm yet authoritative, followed. “Close the garage door behind you.”
The caretaker nodded quickly and left, locking the door as he went.
Myra, who had been quietly watching the exchange, immediately felt a twinge of caution. She made a move to exit the car, but before she could, Tony’s long hand shot out, locking the car doors with a soft click. Her pulse quickened as she felt the heat of his touch around her wrist, his eyes, dark with intent, never leaving her face.
“Tony, we haven’t had lunch yet—” she began, trying to steer the moment back to normality. Her gaze inadvertently flickered down to his lower body. The unmistakable stir of his arousal was all too evident.
She could only think to herself, I seriously hate how energetic he is. Then, a more pressing thought hit her. She’d been dying to ask him a question during their drive but hadn’t yet received an answer.
Before she could push the thought away and move on, Tony was already pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers with an intensity she couldn’t ignore.
“Didn’t you promise to spend the afternoon with me?” His low, hoarse voice was too close to her ear. A shiver ran down her spine at the sensation of his warm breath, and she stiffened instinctively.
“Yes, but not the way you have in mind!” Myra retorted, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and humor.
He laughed softly, that infuriatingly alluring chuckle of his, and his hands slid down her sides, sending heat rushing to her cheeks.
“Then, why don’t you tell me… what ‘way’ do I have in mind?” His fingers moved toward the hem of her blouse, and she flushed, biting her lip as her body involuntarily tensed.
Realizing where this was headed, Myra quickly shifted her thoughts. “That woman who called you earlier…” she started, though the mention of the phone call from earlier made her pause. The voice on the other end had sounded familiar, and now, as the memory clicked, she recalled who it was—Gemma Walton.
The realization hit her like a punch in the stomach. That voice… It was her! She felt a strange rush of humiliation and frustration flood her. Had she been jealous for no reason?
Tony seemed to notice the change in her expression. His lips curved in a satisfied smirk as he lowered his head to kiss her. “I like seeing you jealous,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of desire.
Her cheeks burned, but before she could respond, his kiss deepened, overwhelming her. Her mind scattered, lost in the heat of the moment. Outside the villa, a black Lamborghini sat under the sun, seemingly unaffected by the heat. Moments later, a red sports car rolled up, stopping beside it.
Kris quickly got out of the car and took note of the man inside the sports car next to her, her surprise evident in her eyes. She moved toward the car, her steps purposeful and confident, before knocking on the window.
When it rolled down, she was greeted with the cold, handsome face of Sean.
“Director Chase,” Kris said with a practiced smile, her tone airy but with an edge of curiosity. “What a coincidence. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”
Her gaze flicked to the villa behind them. She knew Tony owned it, and the word around the neighborhood was that both Tony and Myra were there. She couldn’t help but wonder—was Sean here for Tony or Myra? The thought gnawed at her, and her envy began to simmer beneath her otherwise calm exterior.
Though Kris had always found Sean attractive, she’d never pursued him, preferring to stay out of his disinterested orbit. But now, seeing him again, there was an undeniable curiosity, even if she had no real interest in him. It was just that feeling of wanting to be the center of attention that made her draw closer to him.
However, Sean’s indifference was as sharp as ever. Without a word, he merely glanced at her before rolling the window back up, signaling his disinterest. The sports car quickly turned and sped off.
Kris was left standing in stunned silence, her face flushing with frustration. She muttered under her breath, “He’s nothing but a divorced man. Did he really think I was interested in him?”
Fuming, she turned toward the villa, determined to leave her thoughts of Sean behind.
Just as she reached the gates, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom screeched to a halt in front of the entrance. Kris’s heart raced as she recognized the car. The door opened, and an elderly man stepped out. Though he appeared to be in his eighties, his presence was commanding, and he moved with an energy that belied his age. The man, stern and serious, adjusted his beard slightly as he stood in front of the villa.
Kris’s pulse quickened as she realized who it was: Sebastian Hart, Tony’s grandfather, the patriarch of the Hart family.
Her father’s words echoed in her mind: The two elders of the Hart Family like well-behaved girls. Kris had intended to meet the Hart elders today, but the information about Tony’s location had thrown her plans off course.
“Excuse me, sir…” Kris spoke quickly, her voice changing to one of courteous attention as she approached the old man. “Are you here to see Director Hart too?”