Horace remained silent, the sound of Cassandra’s crying and fear over the phone tightening around him like invisible ropes, making it hard for him to breathe.
That sense of responsibility for the past, like a mark etched into his very bones, ultimately outweighed the unfamiliar flutter in his heart.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the usual calm had returned to his beneath that calm, unseen undercurrents churned–currents even he was unaware of
gaze. Yet
“Cassic.” he spoke into the phone, his voice steady, carrying that familiar strength that always put people at ease. “Don’t be afraid. Lock the door. I’ll be back right away.”
After he finished speaking, he hung up decisively and turned to his assistant, his tone leaving no room for argument: “Book the earliest direct flight back home.”
Mr. Dunn.” The assistant was not surprised at all and immediately set about the task.
temples.
on the way to the airport, Horace leaned back against the seat, rubbing his throbbing
Outside the car window, the Icelandic landscape sped by–desolate volcanoes, snow–covered plains–mirroring the state of his heart.
He took out his phone, the screen paused on the encrypted album his assistant had sent him-
It was a photo taken from a distance by his people, capturing Lorelei’s figure by the glacial lake.
She wore a white down jacket and a red scarf, standing before a massive blue iceberg. her head tilted back to gaze at the sky. Her profile, set against the ice and snow, radiated a breathtaking purity and… freedom.
His fingertip hovered over the call button, but in the end, he let his hand fall in defeat
For the sake of the company, for Cassandra, he had once again abandoned her without hesitation.
This realization was like a thorn, piercing his heart and bringing a subtle yet persistent ache
For the first time, he felt a flicker of doubl–and even weariness–toward the unwavering sense of duty he had always followed.
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12:22
Chapter 15
After returning home, Horace first held a meeting to finalize the project, then dealt with Cassandra’s situation with decisive force.
He simply leveraged the Dunn Group’s vast network of influence to completely wipe out the negative online rumors about her, tracked down a few of the main instigators and sent them legal notices, and upgraded her residence with the highest level of security–bodyguards on duty around the clock.
Yet as he looked at Cassandra’s still–frightened face, now showing a dependent smile again, Horace felt no relief at all.
He offered a few perfimctory words of comfort, then used business at the Group as an excuse to leave Cassandra’s apartment.
The driver took the car back to Tanglewood.
The new villa sat halfway up the mountain, offering a wide view. The decor was modern and minimalist, every detail exuding luxurious taste, yet it was so cold that there was not a trace of
hatevery Warmth.
There was no trace of Lorelei left here no shawl carelessly tossed on the sofa, no collection of
e–flavored liquors in the wine cabinet, no half–alive plants on the balcony that always 1 careful tending.
It was tidy and empty, like an incredibly luxurious hotel suite that no one had ever stayed in.
Horace took off his suit jacket and, out of habit, headed toward the master bedroom at eleven o’clock at night.
The moment he opened the door, he instinctively looked at the center of the bed–there was no one there, only the smooth, cold gray sheets. He stood there for a moment, realizing what he had been hoping for.
Was he hoping for the warmth of the one who, even in sleep, would unconsciously roll over to his side, wrapping him up with arms and legs?
For the first time, in this fortress he had so carefully built, he found himself unable to sleep.
He got up and walked to the study.
On black walnut desk, the documents were arranged with meticulous precision, and the
the
computer screen was dark.
There were no crumbs from her snacks here, no crumpled–up sketches she had doodled and tossed aside, no colorful sticky notes with reminders and playful messages stuck everywhere.
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12:221
Chapter 15
The whole space was so quiet that he could hear only his own breathing and heartbeat, a suffocating emptiness enveloping him.
A few days later, Celeste came again, still unwilling to give up.
This time, she was clearly dressed with care, wearing a dress from a niche brand that Lorelei often wore, and even sprayed on Lorelei’s favorite perfume, with its cool white tea and rose undertones.
She carried a delicate food box, standing at the villa door with a charming smile. “Mr. Dunn, my mother made some soup and asked me to bring you some. Lori isn’t here, but you still need to take care of yourself.”
Horace opened the door and caught a whiff of that familiar perfume, momentarily dazed as if he saw that vibrant, flamboyant figure. But when he saw Celeste’s face–somewhat similar to Lorelei’s, yet deliberately imitative and affected–his gaze instantly turned cold.
“Ms. Celeste,” his voice was utterly devoid of warmth, “I’ve told you, don’t come here again.”
Celeste mustered her courage, taking a step forward and trying to show a gentleness different
Lorelei’s. “Mr. Dunn, Lori… she’s wild and doesn’t know how to appreciate your kindness.
She lowered her lashes suggestively. “I’ve always admired you. If you are willing…”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
