Watching Anna leave, it wasnât long before Aliceâs car pulled up in front of Ryan.
Ryan had wanted to properly say goodbye to Mia. Even though their day at the amusement park had been cut short by Aliceâs sudden check-in, leaving a lot of regrets, it was still his first time going to a place like that, and it held some sentimental value.
Besides, if Mia knew he genuinely cared about her, would she be stronger in facing her illness?
But no one around him seemed to share his thoughts.
Alice and Bella were sitting in the back seat, gesturing for Ryan to get in through the still-closed window. Meanwhile, Mia was staring warily at Alice, her eyes fixed on the faint smile on the girlâs face.
âRyan, get in. Weâre going home.â
If Alice hadnât urged him, Ryan wasnât sure how long he wouldâve just stood there, frozen.
He glanced back at Mia, who was clearly not in a good state. She let out a long sigh, and when she looked at Ryan again, the hatred in her eyes had faded, replaced by something far more complicated.
It was a mix of reluctance to part with a friend and something deeper, more delicate, and ambiguousâsomething Ryan couldnât quite read.
âRyan, just get in the car. Iâll be fine.â
Miaâs words were forced. If she could, she wouldâve done everything to keep Ryan by her side, but she couldnât.
Her gaze was locked on Alice, who sat in the back seat, calm and composed. Miaâs small hands were clenched into fists behind her back, and it took all her strength not to let her anger show.
Why? What made Alice so special? Why did she get to have everything, while Mia was left to die alone?
It was clear nowâRyan didnât want to leave Alice. That much was certain. But this wasnât Ryanâs fault. It had to be something Alice had done to him.
Mia wouldnât hurt Ryan, at least not for now. So, her target could only be Alice.
Soon⦠it would all be over soon. Once that thing was done, everything would fall into place.
At first, Mia only wanted Aliceâs position as the head of the crime syndicate. But now she finally understoodâeven if Alice werenât the boss, Ryanâs feelings probably wouldnât change.
In that case⦠maybe Alice couldnât be allowed to stay.
Ryan could sense the tension in the air, but his attention wasnât on Alice or Mia. His eyes were drawn to the back seat of the car, and a growing sense of unease crept over him.
Alice and Mia exchanged glances, as if silently communicating something. Bella, who was out of their line of sight, waved at Ryan from her seat.
Ryan couldnât understand what Bellaâs wave meant, but the cold, terrifying feeling it gave him was all too real. For a moment, it felt like he was back in that dark, suffocating basement where heâd been held captive.
Mia left, and Ryan returned to Aliceâs side.
Once in the car, Alice didnât seem as lively as she had been on the phone earlier. Her sharp features were even more pronounced now, and there wasnât a trace of softness in her expression. She leaned back in her seat, eyes closed, resting.
The press conference had ended, and overall, it had gone relatively smoothly. But for Alice, it wasnât exactly a victory.
She and Bella were different. Bella was the third daughter of the Langston family, a legitimate figure in society. Alice, on the other hand, had a much more sensitive identity, even with all the disguises. Ideally, she wouldnât appear in the public eye at all.
Especially now, with Ryan in danger too. One wrong move, and they could both be dragged down, with no chance of clearing their names.
Ryan naturally sat next to Alice in the back seat. But what made him uncomfortable was that Alice wasnât the only one there.
âMiss Aliceâ¦â
âIâm tired. Letâs talk when we get home.â
Alice wasnât lying. She hadnât eaten all day, and after holding a press conference, she was exhausted. Before seeing Ryan, she had managed to hold it together, but now that he was here, there was no need to keep up the act.
Ryan was sitting a little too far from her for her liking. She frowned slightly and motioned for him to sit closer. Once he did, she rested her head on his shoulder, her breathing gradually becoming steady as she drifted off to sleep.
After seeing Ryan, Alice seemed to relax, but Ryan was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He had wanted to ask if he could sit in the front seat, but before he could even get the words out, Alice had already shut that idea down by resting her head on his shoulder. Now, he couldnât move an inch.
There was still the space of Alice between him and Bella, but Ryan couldnât shake the feeling that his face was itching, as if someone was staring at him intensely.
He didnât need to guess who it was. That burning gaze, so blatant in its desire, was unmistakable. It was just like the nightmare he had lived through four years ago.
Ryan swallowed hard. Every time he thought he had come to terms with Bella, that he had finally put the past behind him, his body would betray him with the most visceral reaction.
He was terrified of Bella. He had been four years ago, and even after she returned from abroad three years later, nothing had changed.
Trying to mimic Alice, Ryan closed his eyes. But losing his sight only heightened his other senses. What had been a faint itch on his cheek now felt like a scorching gaze, tracing every inch of him.
It was like a starving predator sizing up its prey, evaluating the tenderness of the meat, deciding how best to devour it.
If it had stopped there, Ryan might have been able to convince himself it was all in his head. Three years was a long time, and maybe Bella had moved on from those feelings.
But he was wrong. Again.
With Alice resting on his shoulder, the carâs music turned off, and the quiet atmosphere settling in, her breathing gradually slowed. She had fallen asleep.
Ryan wasnât the only one who noticed. Almost the moment Alice drifted off, his right hand was grabbed.
At first, Ryan thought it was Alice, moving unconsciously in her sleep. But when he felt the smooth skin slowly tracing the joints of his fingers, lingering over every ridge and line, he could no longer pretend to be calm.
It was like an artist meticulously sketching a detailed map, or a sculptor carefully crafting a masterpiece. Bellaâs fingers moved over his hand with deliberate precision.
Their hands overlapped, and her fingertips pressed curiously against his, before sliding inward to his palm, which was now slightly damp with sweat.
Ryanâs first instinct was to pull his hand away, but his wrist was already firmly held in place. If he tried to yank it free, he would definitely wake Alice. And if she saw what was happening, things would only get worse.
It felt like a branding iron was searing into his palm. Bella, emboldened, took advantage of every small opening, slipping her fingers between his, until their hands were fully intertwined.