Chapter 361: Chapter 359: Why Have We Become Like This? (1)
As Annabelle Linton watched him hurry over, her expression faltering as a misty haze clouded her eyes.
’Did he rush over because the call was disconnected?’
"Annabelle."
Aaron Wyatt ran to her side, looking her over and asking with concern, "Why did you hang up in the middle of our conversation? You had me worried sick."
He had also heard a loud bang just before, but the call disconnected before he could ask about it. He had been terrified, thinking something had happened to her.
Annabelle Linton stared at his worried expression, momentarily dazed. She answered automatically, "I’m fine..."
Seeing her pale face, Aaron Wyatt’s heart lurched. His brow furrowed, and thinking she had a fever, he stepped forward and placed a hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
He let out a sigh of relief when he found her temperature was normal.
He kept his eyes on her as he asked with concern, "Annabelle, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? How are your injuries? Why do you look so pale?"
Glancing at the old mansion behind her, a cold glint flashed in his eyes. "Did someone bully you?" he asked sharply. "Tell me. I’ll make them pay."
Seeing his worried expression and how much he cared for her, Annabelle Linton felt a bittersweet ache in her heart.
’For over twenty years in her past life, she had always been alone, foolish and fumbling her way through.’
’Even now, countless people wanted to harm her because of who she was.’
’She never had a single happy day, nor a single moment of peace.’
’But now, someone was willing to look after her, to care for her. Even if she didn’t need him to do anything, the sentiment itself was incredibly moving.’
Annabelle Linton curved her lips into a small smile and shook her head faintly. "Really, I’m fine."
Aaron Wyatt saw that she was clearly forcing a smile, and his heart clenched.
’His Annabelle. He didn’t even have to think to know she’d been wronged.’
He sighed, his heart aching for her. He gently placed a hand on her cheek, turning her face to meet his gaze, and asked earnestly, "Annabelle, what’s really wrong? You really can’t tell me?"
Annabelle Linton looked at him.
Aaron Wyatt had gone to Corinthia to discuss a partnership. His colleagues weren’t due back until tomorrow, but he had wanted to see Annabelle Linton as soon as possible, so he’d taken a flight back to Lynton that very evening.
He had just gotten home and seen the note Annabelle Linton had left for him. He’d called her, only for the line to go dead mid-conversation.
He’d rushed straight here without even taking the time to change.
He stood there now, his tall, lean frame clad in a bespoke suit from Savile Row. He was impossibly handsome—charming without being flashy, reserved yet full of charisma. His good looks were on another level entirely.
If Leona Grant possessed a cold, severe beauty, then Aaron Wyatt had the dashing good looks of a refined gentleman.
The difference between them was one of coldness, the other of warmth.
Under the streetlight, his gaze was gentle. The dim light outlined the deep-set contours of his eyes, and a tremor went through Annabelle Linton’s heart.
She gently hugged him, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and pressing her face against his chest. Her senses filled with his soft, floral scent as she whispered, "I’m really okay. Don’t worry."
Aaron Wyatt froze.
He looked down at the top of her head in disbelief. It wasn’t until he caught her familiar scent of gardenias that he knew this wasn’t a dream.
This was the first time Annabelle had ever hugged him of her own accord.
The corners of Aaron Wyatt’s mouth lifted as he wrapped his arms around her in return. He kissed her forehead, stroking her hair with his other hand. "What is it? Did something happen to upset you today?"
"If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t ask. But I’ll always be here with you, to take care of you, you know?"
"Annabelle, I would never hurt you, no matter what. If something happens, you have to tell me, okay?"
Annabelle Linton gave a muffled "mhm," and he kissed her forehead again.
Leona Grant stood behind them.
Her chilling gaze was fixed on the pair. Her eyes were like a fathomless, frozen abyss, holding a sharp, icy glint that promised to extinguish all hope of life with effortless cruelty.
Her gaze promised utter ruin.
