There was no doubt about it—those two had done it on purpose. They had absolutely intended to leave her alone with Bert.
Catherine lifted her eyes toward him. He was already looking at her.
Under the streetlights, his aura was distant and cool, his features deep and unreadable.
She stood there stubbornly, refusing to move. In the end, it was Bert who spoke first.
"I’m not going to eat you. Co here."
Catherine snorted inwardly. Wasn’t he perfectly capable of eating her? Considering how things nearly went yesterday at his place—he had practically almost eaten her alive.
The mont the mory hit her—him kissing her twice—her ears ward. She stayed rooted in place and announced again, firmly,
"I already told you—we’re not suitable. Why are you still acting like this?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"Acting like what? I’m simply sending my sister’s friend ho, that’s all."
He conveniently pushed all his intentions onto Lilian, as if he were truly innocent. But Catherine was certain everything today had been arranged by him—Lilian inviting her out, Lilian suggesting dinner, and then Morrison suddenly showing up to pick Lilian up.
All of it.
Arranged by him.
And now they were the only two left. He was such a sly old fox, and he still had the gall to pretend he had nothing to do with it. She had no way to argue back.
Just as Catherine was growing irritated, Bert suddenly started walking toward her. His steps were calm, his expression composed. Before she could even process what he planned to do, he bent down and scooped her straight into his arms.
Catherine was startled beyond belief. She struggled frantically.
"What are you doing?! Put down!"
But her slight strength was no match for Bert’s. Holding her securely against his chest, he turned and headed toward his car.
"Bert!"
Catherine was so furious she practically shouted his na. A few pedestrians passing by glanced at them, seeing the way Bert carried her in his arms and assuming they were just a quarreling couple. Embarrassed, Catherine hurriedly buried her face against his chest to hide from their curious looks.
His scent filled her lungs—clean, warm, unmistakably his. His strong arms held her firmly, securely, in the protective way a man shelters a woman, as if once held like this, all storms outside would never again be sothing she had to fear.
Bert carried her straight to his car, placed her into the passenger seat, then got in himself.
Catherine burst out in protest, fuming.
"You’re going too far!"
Bert started the engine and replied calmly,
"I’ve already wasted this much ti on you. And now you think you’re the one who’s right?"
"How did I waste your ti?"
Catherine gritted her teeth.
He answered lightly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world,
"I told you to get in the car, and you just stood there glaring at . If that’s not wasting my ti, what is?"
Catherine: "..."
She didn’t ask him to send her ho.
She never said she wanted to sit in his car.
He was the one who insisted on standing there and getting tangled up with her—and now he dared to claim she was wasting his ti. He could turn black into white without blinking!
She couldn’t win against him in a verbal fight, so she turned her face toward the window in silent frustration.
Bert didn’t add anything more and simply drove her ho.
Not long after the car pulled away from the curb, Catherine’s phone rang. It was Riley.
Catherine answered, and Riley’s excited voice blasted through the speaker,
"Cici! I just found an insanely handso male model for you—amazing body, amazing vibe. I’ll introduce you two when I get back!"
"Listen, this guy isn’t just so regular model. He only models for fun. His family background is amazing—like, seriously not lacking money at all!"
Riley’s voice was naturally loud, and with her excitent it was even louder—loud enough that Bert, sitting right beside Catherine, heard every single word.
He had originally had a decent impression of Riley.
But now?
His favorability instantly plumted to zero.
Actually—negative.
Catherine hadn’t expected Riley to call just to introduce her to a potential boyfriend. The other day when Riley heard Catherine say that Bert had soone he liked, she’d joked about introducing Catherine to soone new. Catherine had taken it as nothing more than a joke—who would’ve thought Riley would actually follow through?
And she hadn’t even had the chance to tell Riley about Bert’s confession last night. In fact, she thought it was better notto tell her at all. Riley already spent every day trying to push her and Bert together; if she found out Bert had openly said he liked her, she’d probably try even harder to shove them into each other’s arms.
But now that Riley had stopped pushing her toward Bert, she was pushing her toward soone else instead.
Catherine didn’t know how to react for a mont. As soon as Riley finished speaking, she quickly said,
"Riley, I told you—I’m not thinking about that kind of thing right now..."
"What do you an not thinking about it? That’s only because you haven’t t soone you actually like. When it’s soone you really like, you won’t be able to help falling in love. You won’t get to choose."
Riley pressed on,
"Anyway, I already promised him. When I’m back in a few days, I’ll introduce you two."
Catherine really didn’t want to continue this topic—not in this environnt. She could practically feel the air pressure in the car dropping by the second.
"I’ve got sothing else to take care of—talk later. I’ll call you back."
She ended the call quickly and cautiously glanced at Bert beside her.
He didn’t react much. He continued driving, eyes fixed on the road ahead. But the line of his jaw had tightened, and the steel watch on his wrist caught the light in a cold gleam—enough to make Catherine’s heart skip uneasily.
They rode in silence all the way to Catherine’s building. As usual, she politely thanked him and reached for the door—when a hand closed around her wrist.
Startled, she turned back quickly.
"What are you doing?"
He released her slowly, unhurried, then reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt. Leaning in, he closed the distance between them, his cool, clean scent brushing over her face.
"You like male models with good bodies and handso faces?"
Catherine’s cheeks reddened at his sudden closeness. She shrank back instinctively to put distance between them—but he leaned in again, silently, insistently. His cold, authoritative gaze lood over hers.
Pressed against the car door with nowhere to escape, she rembered how he had carried her into the car earlier—almost recklessly. Irritated, she lifted her chin and t his eyes defiantly.
"So what if I do?"
His lips curved faintly. His left hand rose, brushing along her cheek, then her earlobe. His voice fell warm and soft by her ear—yet carried a chilling undertone.
"If you don’t want those n to disappear from the modeling industry forever...
If you don’t want innocent people to suffer because of you...
Then you’d better stay away from them."
Such gentle features—and such cold, threatening words.
Catherine flared instantly.
"What is that supposed to an? Just because I turned you down, I can’t interact with other n?"
This was a naked, unmistakable threat.
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