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CHAPTER 65

Author: ari noana
last update Last Updated: 2024-12-10 09:06:21

Agatha POV:

The penthouse apartment shimmered, a testament to Charles's impeccable taste and extravagant wealth.

Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sleek, modern furniture, the abstract art that adorned the walls, the breathtaking view of the city sprawling beneath us.

It was a world away from the sterile white walls of the hospital, the hushed whispers, the constant fear that had clung to me like a second skin.

But even in this luxurious sanctuary, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach, a constant reminder of the weight I carried, the decisions I had to make, the tangled mess of my heart that I couldn't seem to unravel.

Charles poured me a glass of champagne, the bubbles rising like tiny, effervescent hopes in the crystal flute.

He handed it to me, his touch lingering on mine, a possessive gesture that both thrilled and unsettled me.

"To new beginnings," he said, his voice a warm caress, his blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of admiration and…
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    Agatha POV:“Jasmine,” I said, my voice a carefully controlled whisper, my gaze fixed on her, trying to decipher the emotions hidden beneath her usual calm demeanor. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Charles?”Her gaze flickered, a brief flash of something – anxiety? – before her face settled back into a mask of polite professionalism.“No, Ms. De Rossi,” she said, her voice measured, almost clinical. “Nothing has happened to Charles, not physically. It is… another kind of matter entirely.”I leaned back in my chair. The air in the office felt charged with unspoken tension, the silence a heavy weight that pressed down on me.“What do you mean, Jasmine?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my fingers tightening around my pen. “What’s going on?”She hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting to the window, the city lights a distant, indifferent backdrop to the drama unfolding within these sterile walls. When she looked back, her eyes, usually so cold and calculating, wer

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    Agatha POV:His lips were warm, soft, a sensation I'd been fighting for weeks. The kiss unfolded slowly, hinting at something deeper than our usual interactions.A hunger I hadn't acknowledged flared within me, a longing that had been under my careful composure. I was losing myself in him, the sounds around us dissolving. For once, strategy didn't matter, control wasn't the goal. It was just… Charles.He broke the kiss, his eyes dark and intense as they searched my face. There was desire there, yes, but also a surprising rawness. It was a rare glimpse behind the charming facade. My carefully constructed walls had crumbled, leaving me feeling exposed.My heart hammered against my ribs, was this genuine? Was Charles a flawed man willing to reveal himself?“Charles,” I breathed, my voice soft against his lips, my fingers instinctively tracing the sharp angle of his jaw.He leaned closer, his breath warm on my skin. “Yes, Agatha?”“What… what was that?” I asked, my tone a blend of diso

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    Agatha POV:I woke slowly, my senses gradually coming alive.The faint scent of coffee, the distant hum of city traffic, and the solid, reassuring weight of Charles’s arm draped across my waist.He was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, his dark hair tousled against the pillow, a lock falling across his forehead, giving him a vulnerability that was at odds with the ruthless, controlling man I knew he could be.My body remembered the feel of his skin against mine, the way he’d whispered my name, a mix of desire and a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified me.But my mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days – Nathan’s tearful confession, James’s cryptic warnings, Camille’s unexpected departure, my father's illness, and the weight of NexGen on my shoulders.And Charles’s confession, his raw vulnerability as he spoke about his mother, his childhood, his pain. It had moved me, shaken me, made me question everything I thought I knew about him.He stirr

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    Charles POV:The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off my view of Agatha. Her hurried escape, the almost frantic way she’d jabbed the button, left a sour taste in my mouth. She was hiding something."Errands?" I muttered under my breath, turning away from the closed doors. "In the Obstetrics and Gynecology wing? Unlikely."My mind raced. Pale. Tired. Nauseous, maybe? She'd brushed off my concern, blamed it on stress, on her father's illness. Plausible excuses, easily accepted if I hadn't seen the flicker of panic in her eyes, the way her hand had instinctively, almost imperceptibly, drifted towards her stomach.Something was wrong. Something she didn't want me to know.I found a quiet alcove down the hall, away from the sparse foot traffic.

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