Chapter 4

Raven-black eyebrows framed his deep-set, piercing eyes, and his lips and nose. proportioned as if sculpted with meticulous care by a renowned artist. His jawline was perfectly defined.

She had first been utterly stunned by his presence at the cemetery, and up close, he was even more breathtaking. It was hard to imagine anyone in the entertainment industry who could surpass his allure.-

Unfortunately, he always wore a cold expression, and his aura was chilling, almost devil-like. Coupled with the outrageous rumors circulating in the news, it was no wonder people were wary of him.

“Ms. Nightshade, where are you headed?”

Ms. Nightshade? Such a formal address. Weren’t they on a first-name basis at the cemetery?

“Back to my room, thank you.”

Xanthea, worried she might fall, instinctively snuggled closer to him. She felt him pause as if shocked by electric contact. Curious, she looked up just in time to see a faint crescent-shaped scar on the left side of his neck.

That scar looked familiar. Could it be she was the one who left it?

Three years ago, when the Martinez family first made a name for themselves through a collaboration with the Nightshade family in Crestwood, Matthew was cornered by a group of so-called elite heirs. They taunted him, throwing stones and mocking his father for being a social climber, and Matthew as nothing but a lapdog to the Nightshade’s

heiress.

Overhearing this, she had angrily thrown stones back at them. When the leader, a blond punk, charged at her, she raised a sharp-edged stone in defense.

and begged for mercy, but she couldn’t stop the stone in her hand, which heavily struck the neck of a young man, leaving a crescent-shaped wound and blood gushing out. At that moment, she was only thinking of Matthew and didn’t even

away.

when thinking about that young man, she couldn’t even remember his face. and name. And soon, she totally

who

him by calling him “crazy” but had

14:55

much as a thank you.

why, despite all the annoying things she had done,

why, after her supposed death, had he

sting in her nose, Xanthea raised her

a moment, and

held in the main hall – no chance of getting

arms, a muscular chest, and that protective embrace at the cemetery holding a bouquet of irises toward her grave passed

who had saved her from the pond just now? Xanthea about to tug at his shirt, eager to see if there was an iris

you doing

was

as he came closer, “Just felt

she could easily cut all ties with Matthew to avoid repeating her past tragedies. But

to experience the

you, Mr. Lockwood, for your help. I’ll take her

“Mr. Lockwood, thank you.”

Orion had already set her down and

hadn’t even gotten a chance to see if there

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