Anathea didn’t quite catch what Gregory said. She only saw him reject Edward’s call using one hand. Then, he gently lifted her chin and kissed her lips again.
Anathea felt as though a weight had lifted off her chest as she responded to his kiss.
Maybe… this would be the last time. Once everything settled, they’d go their separate ways.
She wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, as if saying goodbye to the chaos of the one–sided love she once had. Gregory didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he looked at her soft and serene face as it slowly flushed with a faint blush. He noticed a single tear hanging from her lashes as she closed her eyes, and the corners of his own eyes turned red.
Back when Anathea loved him, he’d locked himself inside his hatred and refused to feel a thing. It wasn’t until he’d truly lost her that he was filled with regret.
Now that he liked Anathea–in fact, he believed it might be more than just liking–he wanted to tell her that he probably loved her. But unfortunately, he struggled even to express that he liked her, let alone loved her.
Still, he wanted to try. Even if trying meant he would fall into ruin, he was still drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
Anathea was like fireworks—she’d once burned so brightly, but now, that side of her had faded into the cold night sky On the other hand, Gregory had found new life–blossoming in a place that had once known only emptiness.
She’d once loved him; he wanted to love her now.
Their hearts were in completely different places. Yet, in that moment, they connected.
In the instant they met, even the pure release of desire became lingering and tender.
From the study to the bedroom, Gregory fully experienced her gentleness, and Anathea felt the depth and passion of his love.
The last glow of sunset disappeared beyond the horizon, and stars began to flicker in the night sky.
Gregory lit a candle. The fragrance drifted up, coating the air.
Anathea sat up, wrapped in the blanket, and caught a whiff of the scent. “What scent is that? It smells nice.”
“Whisper of Pear Silk,” Gregory replied in a calm tone.
Anathea blinked. The name stirred something in her. She remembered an almost–forgotten line from a book or a poem, Just for a moment, her expression shifted slightly.
Gregory noticed that and smiled. “It’s an old blend. It was created centuries ago by a king for the woman he loved. The scent was meant to linger on her robes and bedding–pear blossom, sandalwood, and a touch of osmanthus. It’s subtle but unmistakable.”
“I know,” Anathea murmured, her cheeks flushing with color.
She remembered the verses that had made her heart ache the first time she read them.
They were from a long–deceased poet, full of veiled intimacy and quiet passion. The fragranc thousand whispered confessions and glances beneath the bed curtains in those stories.
Whisper of Pear Silk was a scent made for love.
Gregory noticed her slightly awkward expression.
been the backdrop to a
“I just thought this scent calms the mind and helps with appetite and sleep. Maybe it might help you rest better.”
So, that was it.
Anathea quietly pulled the blanket higher to hide her flushed face and let out a yawn she couldn’t hold back.
Chapter 335
Gregory climbed into bed and pulled her into his arms. “Sleep. I’ll have Jenny bring you something to eat later”
+25 BONUS
“Okay.” Anathea curled into his chest. Maybe it was the candle, but she really did feel sleepy. Gregory gently stroked the back of her head.
Just then, his phone lit up with a message from Edward.
“Mr. Sinclair, I haven’t been able to reach you. We don’t dare make any decisions on our own, but please be informed that after tonight, Adam will be re–sentenced to a suspended term due to lack of evidence. If you want him locked away again, we need your confirmation now.”
They were the best legal team in the country. And this was Castene–beating a lawyer who’d trained abroad and lacked deep local connections wouldn’t be too difficult.
Everything depended on Gregory’s decision now. After all, he’d spent six months in hiding, tirelessly working for this revenge. Gregory looked down at Anathea, who was sleeping in his arms, and exhaled. “If this is what it takes for you to be happy…”
He opened the message and began typing his reply.
A while later, Anathea’s phone dinged–it was the special alert shed set for messages from Giselle. They’d agreed that if their mission failed, Giselle would call. If it succeeded, she would text.
Hearing that sound, Anathea slowly opened her eyes, and her eyes gradually filled with tears.
