NovelOnlineChapter 1180: Nate's hand trailed down to her waist, kneading the sore muscles with just the right amount of pressure. "It's still early. Do you want to rest a little longer?" "Yes." Corrine nodded lazily in response.
Before she could even set her feet on the ground, Nate effortlessly scooped her into his arms, cradling her as he stepped out of the car.
She made no move to resist, simply draping an arm around his neck, nestling into the warmth of his embrace.
As her gaze wandered, she caught sight of Rosalie again. The other woman's eyes flickered, betraying the briefest moment of dazed longing before she quickly masked it.
But Corrine noticed. A woman's intuition was rarely wrong.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtEven though Rosalie kept her emotions carefully in check, Corrine could sense them-silent yet telling. That quiet admiration, that lingering fondness for Nate, was written in the way she looked at him.
A young girl's infatuation, laid bare in the glimmer of her eyes.
Not that Corrine could blher. She had never once denied that Nate was an exceptional man.
Back in the bedroom, she lay in the dim quiet, unable to sleep.
Memories of their passionate night flickered through her mind, her breath hitching as the intensity of it all played out like a fevered reel.
Frustrated by her restless thoughts, she grabbed her phone, scrolling through the onslaught of messages waiting on WhatsApp.
Over twenty unread notifications glared back at her, but one in particular caught her attention—a link from Natasha.
Curious, she tapped the screen. The headline that blared at her was nothing short of startling. Bruce, the CEO of Ashton Group, had won the old town redevelopment project.
Read more at gvlnovom The news clike a splash of cold water, unexpected and disorienting. She didn't waste a moment and dialed Natasha.
Nate descended the stairs, his footsteps drawing the attention of everyone already lounging in groups on the plush sofas.
Conversations lulled, curious eyes turning to watch him.
He settled into an armchair with deliberate calm, fingers working the buttons of his shirt collar until it lay open, hinting at something untamed beneath his usual composed demeanor.
The most striking detail, however, was the fresh hickey on his Adam's apple.
The mark spoke volumes. It needed no explanation.
Awareness flickered through the room, subtle, amused glances m exchanged between Moses and the others.
But Rosalie's gaze was anything but.
It was locked on Nate Le ate with a ferocity she couldn't conceal.
Her fingers curled around her cup, knuckles turning pale as she wrestled with her own storm of emotions.
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