Chapter 6

TRAVIS MOORE

Behind the bakeshop stood the pastry lady's house—a small but cozy space. It wasn’t fancy, just a few appliances, but it was neat and had a warm feel. Furthermore, the white walls and wooden decor created a welcoming atmosphere.

"You have a nice place," I complimented, glancing around the living room.

"Thank you. Please, have a seat," she offered, lighting a scented candle near some picture frames.

"Do you live here alone?"

Even though she had her back to me, I could still see how she froze before she answered yes. It took her a few seconds to move again, flipping the picture frame face down.

From the quick glimpse I caught, it seemed to be a family photo. I couldn't see their faces clearly because of the distance and she was blocking it.

It felt… odd. Like she didn’t want me to see it. Or maybe I was just overthinking. Perhaps she only moved it to keep it away from the candle.

"Anyway, do you like a drink?" she asked, blowing the match.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe when she turned to face me. It was as if the world around us dimmed, drawing me into a space where nothing else existed but her.

Her expression was unreadable and blank, yet I felt this strange pull toward her—an urge to close the gap between us.

Any other woman would’ve already melted under my gaze, but not her. She didn’t even seem interested. No admiration in her eyes at all. And that bruised my ego—badly.

"No need," I said, leaning back in my chair, trying to regain control.

"Alright. Then, I’ll just get an ointment."

"Okay."

She went into her bedroom. And few minutes later, she emerged with a first-aid kit.

When she sat beside me, I breathed in her alluring scent, igniting the fire in my body. It was soft, sweet and subtle—something far from a luxury brands. But it made her even more irresistible.

God help me. I might lose control.

She gently dabbed ointment on the side of my lips. It was so light that it felt like butterfly wings brushing against my skin.

I shouldn’t stare—afraid that I might do something I shouldn’t—but my gaze had a mind of its own, drifting down to her lips. They were as red as an apple. Tempting. Too damn tempting.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"H-huh?"

"You just let out a deep sigh."

Did I? I hadn’t even noticed. Damn, was I really this distracted?

"Nothing. Just thinking," I said casually, trying to sound unaffected. I straightened my posture as I spoke again. "I think I don't need to introduce myself because you know me. Now can I have your name lady?"

"What makes you think that I know you?"

"I know you are that beautiful masquerade lady on Kitty's birthday."

"Bianca," she said, not bothering for a handshake.

"Now, I finally got your name."

I felt an odd sense of disappointment. Most women lit up when they realized they were speaking to a billionaire. But her? Nothing.

"By the way, thanks again for helping me," she said, standing up.

She excused herself and went to the kitchen.

Only a small bookshelf separated the kitchen from the living room. So, I could still hear her as she continued to speak.

"If you had not shown up, they might have done something horrible to me."

"Did I really help, though?" I smirked.

She chuckled. "Yes, at least you distracted them."

I leaned forward, intrigued. "Do you know martial arts? How did you throw those two guys like that?"

"Yeah. I did taekwondo in high school."

"I see."

"Here, have some drink," she offered, returning with a glass of orange juice.

She was about to hand it to me when her foot caught on the carpet. In a last-second attempt to avoid spilling it on me, she twisted her body—and ended up drenching herself instead.

"Are you okay?" I rushed to her side, offering my handkerchief.

"Yeah, I’m fine," she muttered, brushing at her damp clothes.

"You need to—" My words got caught in my throat when I realized something.

The juice had completely soaked her dress. Then thin fabric clinging to every curve of her body. Worse—her undergarments were now slightly visible beneath the wet material.

I swallowed hard.

With her porcelain skin, her perfect figure… Damn.

I had no idea how long I stood frozen. My trance only broke when she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"Y-yeah. I think I need to go," I stammered, forcing myself to act normal.

Yes, I needed to leave. Immediately!

I never expected her to affect me this much by doing nothing. Was she bewitching me?

Women were the ones who got flustered around me—not the other way around. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way!

'Don’t forget—your best friend likes her, Travis!' I reminded myself.

She followed me to the door as I hurried out.

"Take care. And thanks again for saving me," she said.

"You're welcome. Now go back inside before you catch a cold," I responded, keeping my gaze averted.

If I looked at her again, I might lose control and push her against the door, kissing her senselessly.

"Wait, I’ll just change. I’ll walk you to the bus stop."

"No need. I remember the way. It’s only a few blocks from here."

"Alright. Take care, then."

"You too."

I hesitated for a moment before finally walking away.

Oddly enough, there was this strange feeling of reluctance. A part of me didn’t want to leave.

But if I stayed, I might end up doing something reckless. And I didn’t want that to happen.

A few turns later, I finally reached the main road. I headed straight for my car. Luckily, I had forgotten to call my assistant earlier to pick it up.

The traffic had eased up now that the earlier congestion had been cleared. Fortunately, my car was parked at the side, so it hadn’t caused any obstructions.

The heat in my body still hadn’t died down. I needed to release it. More than that, I needed to erase the image of Bianca’s perfect face and body from my mind. So, I sped all the way to Zarina’s condo.