Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

“Is she pretty

Had he not seen women prettier than her?

Good–natured?

What a joke! He never knew a woman who could have such a foul temper.

Kind?

Bullcrap. He had never met anyone more malicious or deceitful than her,

And yet, why did he, Tyrone, do such irrational things for her? He actually helped her commit murdert

Tyrone glared at Quintessa. When people are sleep, they usually lower their defenses, and maybe become less irritating.

But she was different. Even in sleep, she still had her fists clenched, her brows furrowed, and her lips pursed; her face always carried a guard against the world.

It seemed like anyone who got close would be bitten to

th the

xt second.

After he stared at her for a good half hour, his calm exterior grew Increasingly agitated. Abruptly, he turned and grabbed his phone, stepping outside.

Tyrone dialed a number: “Hey, it’s me. Erase all the surveillance footage from the hospital tonight.”

“Why?” asked the voice on the other end.

Tyrone’s thin lips twisted into a cold smirk. “Why? It’s my family’s hospital. I want it gone. Got a problem with that?”

After hanging up, Tyrone felt him unable to suppress the rage boiling inside him, so he tossed the phone aside and stormed back into the bedroom.

He grabbed Quintessa’s slender ankle, “Get out. This is my bedroom.”

Awakened again, Quintessa murmured, “Don’t bother me.”

Tyrone gritted his teeth, “My bed!”

Quintessa gave a lazy kick, “I’ve slept with you. What’s a bed to me?”

Tyrone was speechless.

The next second, Tyrone lay in bed and pulled the entire blanket over himself.

He thought Quintessa would leave once she got cold enough, but she curled up on the edge, looking like she might fall off at any moment, and continued to sleep soundly. It seemed as though the harsh conditions didn’t affect her at all.

She didn’t even seek warmth like others would; she just lay, there, still.

Tyrone exhaled a defeated breath. After all that fuss, he was the one who ended up shortchanged.

He raised his foot; a simple nudge would send Quintessa toppling off.

But after a few seconds, he retracted his foot and turned away, ignoring her.

ༀ དེ ཚ ཆ ེཇ ཅེ� ◌ྂ

Tyrone figured he’d be too angry to sleep, but to his surprise, he dozed off quickly.

Quintessa woke up, feeling chilled to the bone. Sitting up, she saw Tyrone under the covers on the other side, with more than a meter between them, like an uncrossable chasm.

Being expressionless, Quintessa got out of bed, got dressed, grabbed her shoes, and left the room barefoot.

And then.

The moment Quintessa stepped out of the bedroom, the front door swung open from outside.

In walked a matronly woman.

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Both were momentarily stunned.

The woman quickly recovered, and her expression was exaggerated as she pointed at Quintessa, “Who are you? What are you doing in my son’s house?”

Quintessa understood immediately. This lady, dressed so lavishly, was clearly a woman of leisure. She slowly put on her clothes and said indifferently, “What else? I came to sleep with your son. What else could it be?”