Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Tyrone’s face went from zero to thundercloud in a split second after hearing those words,

Quintessa reached out, stroked his cheek with a casual touch, and licked her lips with at rogue’s grin, “I recall you weren’t so modest back in the day, Mr. York. You tore my dress off with such ease! Remember that swarm of paparazzi? You were quite the exhibitionist, clinging to me like we were two halves of a whole. And now you’re playing shy? That’s a

new one on me.”

Tyrone was speechless. He felt as though the tables had turned. Had his thunder been stolen?

For the first time, Tyrone felt a peculiar sense of suffocation, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Quintessa turned to grab her purse, ‘Alright, you’ve had your bit of fun, and I’ve got places to be. Play nice, will you?”

Her words tossed out like a parent bribing a tantrum–throwing toddler with a piece of candy. Tyrone wiped the lipstick from the corner of his mouth and suddenly burst into laughter.

He caught Quintessa as she was about to leave and slipped something into her embrace. She looked down to see a brand–new phone, its case a fiery red, just like the bold lipstick

she often wore.

Quintessa looked up at Tyrone, who was all cool detachment, “It’s got my number in it. Don’t call unless it’s important.” Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Though he said one thing, the message was clear: from now on, she’d better call him for anything.

The phone reminded Quintessa of her own device, which, to this day, Tyrone hadn’t confessed to pocketing that night. No matter. She had kept it in mind, and would settle that score eventually.

Quintessa scoffed, “What’s this? A trade–in? Since when did you become so petty, Tyrone York? Trying to woo a woman with a phone? It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

Tyrone gave a pointed look at her chest, a silent suggestion, “Whatever you want, earn it by taking good care of me.”

She tossed the phone into her bag and playfully tapped Tyrone’s chin, “Sure thing. You just wait and see. I’ll have you happily opening that wallet of yours!!!”

Three years ago, when their scandal broke, Quintessa told Tyrone his money was nothing to her. She wasn’t bluffing. If she wanted to, she could make any man willingly foot the

bill.

17:08

Anyway, I’ve got my own business to attend to, Mr. York. Not all of us can live without e financial worry In the world.”

Tyrone drawled lazily, “Come take care of me, and you’ll never worry about anything but having too much money.”

That comment made Quintessa want to slap him right there. Gritting her teeth and arching an eyebrow, she retorted, “That’s a job for the evening, not now.”

With a wave of her hand, she turned to leave. Tyrone watched her go without a backward glance and felt an urge to not let her off so easily. Otherwise, it felt like a wasted trip, hardly worth the effort.

Tyrone’s lips curved into a smile; he uttered from behind, “Tell me, do you think Matthew will pull through?”

Quintessa’s mocking smile chilled, and she paused without turning back, asking casually, “What?”

Tyrone eyed her silhouette, “Matthew had a car accident last night. Didn’t you hear?”

Quintessa burst out laughing, “Oh, really? That’s news to me. Thanks for the update. I’ll buy you dinner sometime.”

Tyrone crossed his arms, assessing Quintessa’s figure from behind. So nonchalant?

He prodded again, “Last night around 11 PM, I happened to pass by Central Plaza. Guess who I saw?”