Tangled in His Obsession

Chapter 12

Seraphina sat on the sofa, patiently waiting for Leandro to ask his questions.

However, Leandro was far from anxious. Only after Valerio’s figure disappeared up the stairs did he take out a cigarette from his pack, lit it leisurely, took a puff, and then turned to Seraphina. He didn’t say a word, just furrowed his brows, creating an overwhelming sense of pressure.

Sat on the sofa, Seraphina quickly played along and explained with a smile, “Mr. Reynolds, you’ve got it all wrong. I actually lost something and came here looking for it. I think I left my stuff in your car. You don’t mind if I look for it, do you?”

She was about to get up when Leandro’s voice followed, “This?”

Seraphina turned around to see a silver voice recorder in Leandro’s hand- exactly what she had been missing!

“That’s it!” Seraphina walked towards him with a laugh, “So it really was here! I’ve been looking for it for so long!”

She went over to take the voice recorder, but Leandro’s hand suddenly closed, his slender fingers gripping the recorder tightly.

Seraphina looked up at him, “Mr. Reynolds, what’s the deal?”

“You left a voice recorder in my car.” Leandro looked at her, “I should be asking you, what’s the deal?” Seraphina burst into laughter, “You know I was drunk last night and don’t remember anything. How could I intentionally leave a voice recorder in your car?”

Leandro stared at her deeply, obviously not accepting her explanation.

“Do you have anything I should be investigating? Is it…” Seraphina gestured upstairs, implying Valerio, but she quickly ruled out this answer, “If I really wanted to investigate you, I could just go back to the Reynolds family and ask your Grandpa or your father, couldn’t I?”

“If you’re not investigating me.” Leandro’s eyes were deep, “Then who are you investigating? Balch?”

Seraphina kept smiling, but her eyes gradually became serious, quietly looking at Leandro.

This man was too smart. He saw through her so easily and quickly.

Maybe she was too on guard against other things, so she easily exposed herself on the matter of Balch. Seraphina felt a little annoyed. She rarely made such mistakes, but this time, things were unusually difficult. “Yes, I am investigating Balch.” At this point, Seraphina no longer resisted futilely and openly admitted. Leandro took a puff of his cigarette, but his voice was still clear, “What are you investigating him for?” “Someone reported that his company is involved in illegal transactions.” Seraphina stated bluntly.

Leandro looked at her again when he heard this, “What gives you the right to investigate this?”

“I’m a journalist.” Seraphina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at him squarely, “I find these things interesting, so I looked into it.”

“A journalist?” Leandro slowly exhaled a ring of smoke, his eyes blurry, “How did you, who once wanted to be a painter, become a journalist?”

Seraphina didn’t expect him to bring up the past.

Painting was a very important part of her adolescent years.

Her father, who was already deceased, was a painter, so she started learning to paint from a very young age. After being adopted by the Reynolds family, Conway Reynolds and Bruce gave her the

opportunity to continue studying painting.

The Reynolds family’s old house had a beautiful environment, an Ideal place for painting. During her few years living with the Reynolds family, Seraphina painted many pictures, but didn’t take any of them when she left.

Not long after leaving the Reynolds family, she gave up painting. Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

Time flew by and seven years had passed. To Seraphina, all the past events seemed to have happened a long, long time ago.

She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes sparkling, and her smile bright, “I’ve forgotten about the past myself. I didn’t expect you to still remember… Have you been remembering me all these seven years?”

After saying this, she stood up, walked to the couch where Leandro was sitting, sat down on the carpet, leaned against the armrest of the couch, and looked up at the man on the couch, “How should I thank you for your

attention?”

She looked at him, her eyes innocent, yet enchanting.

Seeing that Leandro had no reaction, Seraphina reached out her hand gently stroked his trousers and then slowly moved upward.

Her fingers slowly glided up and down his trouser leg, from his calf, past his knee, and slowly to his thigh… Her movements were getting slower and slower, yet they were increasingly irresistible.