The CEO’s Hidden Love Midnight Temptations and Deep Desires

Chapter 519

Dorothy slipped back into the hospital room, finding Everett engrossed in a video call with the company’s shareholders.

She didn’t interrupt. Instead, she gave him a little wave, signaling that he should keep at it and not mind her.

Listening to Everett converse in smooth, fluent Spanish, Dorothy found a quiet corner to sit and watch him work.

Her mind wandered back to Everett as a middle school student, who always clad in his crisp, clean uniform, sitting silently while working on problems with his refined, scholarly look. He’d furrow his brow in concentration and occasionally flipped through textbooks and jotted down notes.

Back then, her impression of her deskmate was simple: he liked his space clean, wasn’t much for chit–chat, and had a string of admirers. His family was loaded, too. Every day after school, a sleek black sedan would be waiting to whisk him away.

The make and model of the car were beyond her knowledge then, not to mention what a luxury car even was. All she knew was that it was the most impressive car she’d ever seen–the kind she figured she’d never get to ride in.

As she watched him now, Dorothy couldn’t help but pull out her phone and snap a picture of Everett in deep thought.

She scrutinized the photo from every angle, marveling at how there seemed to be no dead angle to his face. His features were sharply defined, his jawline chiseled, and his oceanic eyes were as deep as a serene pool. When his gaze dropped, the delicate fold of his eyelids became visible, and below that, his lashes fanned out like the feathers on a quill.

hesitated for a few seconds before deciding whether to

on her lower lip, her fingers finally moved to create a new album in

as if Everett’s youthful spirit was contagious–she

mood? It was pretty

with our photos together and

from the bed. He

intentionally, “What are you doing up again? Dr. Quincy said you need to

picture from the “0825” album and creating a new one named “Family,”

are you

to see lots of

to be alone in that album.

with me, you could’ve just asked! Beating around the bush isn’t your style, Mr. Lopez.”

“Fine, I want a photo with

me think about it,” she teased, then relented, “Alright, I’ll

on tiptoes, phone in hand, switching to the