"I..." She instinctively looked down at her phone, then raised her eyes to look at the man. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the phones on the bedside table.
To be precise, there were two phones.
One of them was Christopher’s—she recognized it.
And the other...
It looked new.
"Oh, this is my work phone. I went ho this morning to get it," she quickly explained, suddenly understanding sothing. Then she asked, "Did you... ask soone to buy a new phone?"
Christopher, with an unreadable expression, averted his gaze and said coldly, "No, you’re overthinking."
She had a phone she could use but didn’t bother to tell him, leaving him unable to reach her the entire day. Clearly, she didn’t think he mattered at all.
Overthinking?
Alia caught his awkward expression, and a light bulb went off in her head. She picked up the phone and dialed her own number.
No surprises—
The other new phone on the bedside table rang.
Christopher jumped in shock and turned his head.
This woman! Smart as hell! She guessed he had soone buy the phone and even arranged to have her number transferred.
Alia, however, was already smiling. She confidently stepped forward and grabbed the new phone without hesitation. Her eyes sparkled with delight. "This phone already has my number—still deny it’s for ? The latest model, about ten thousand bucks, isn’t it? Thanks!"
She shook the new phone proudly and kept it with satisfaction.
Christopher’s handso face grew even more awkward—a typical example of soone doing a kind deed yet refusing to leave their na, with an air of smugness.
Alia glanced at him once, feeling secretly triumphant.
So pretentious.
He bought the phone but wouldn’t admit it.
Knowing his way of handling things, since he bought the phone, he certainly figured out how to transfer her old number back as well.
Good, saved her the trouble.
Excitedly, she powered up the new phone—only to be startled by the wallpaper.
The wallpaper...
At first glance, she thought it was a default magazine model. But upon closer inspection, that face—compared to the frosty expression of the man lying in bed—her eyes widened in astonishnt as she turned the phone screen around. "Is this... you?"
Christopher had been too busy being awkward and proud to rember what he’d done earlier in the day.
When she asked, he turned his head and saw the "glam shot" on the phone screen. His face flushed, his eyes instantly panicking.
At the ti, he hadn’t thought much of it—just felt that if his own phone had her photo as the wallpaper, then logically, her new phone should have his photo as the wallpaper.
This way, every ti she opened her phone, she’d see him.
Seeing him repeatedly, he didn’t believe she’d feel nothing for him deep down.
But now that she had discovered it, he realized how stupid his action was!
How ridiculously childish!
Turns out his mory regressed to his teenage years, even his actions beca immature!
"This... you’re mistaken." How could he admit to such a laughable matter? He imdiately denied it.
"Mistaken?" Alia chuckled as she studied the photo further. "My vision isn’t failing. This is obviously you."
"..."
"But when did you ever take such a formal photo? It looks like sothing for a poster..."
"..." Mr. Hart remained silent.
He couldn’t recall when he’d taken such a formal picture; after all, he had lost his mory for so many years.
This was sothing he found by chance while browsing his phone after regaining his eyesight.
Given his current identity as the seal-cloud corporation’s executive president and a famous figure in the business world, the photo was probably taken during so dia or magazine interview.
Suited up, impeccably grood hair, sharp and authoritative features, his aura distant and commanding.
No need for vanity—next to him, no entertainer or celebrity could match his charisma.
Based on Alia’s reaction, she didn’t seem to dislike it?
She was probably falling for him, wasn’t she?
After all, back when she was just a young girl, she had said more than once—Brother Christopher, how do you manage to look so good?
Alia tore through his excuses and didn’t forget to complain. "Such childish behavior—who else could do this besides you?"
Mr. Hart finally flushed red with anger, extending his hand: "If you don’t want it, give it back! I didn’t force you to keep it."
Alia sneered and shook her head, continuing to joke. "Tsk tsk, look at you getting all worked up again. You’re really sothing. A grown man constantly either jealous or angry, your heart’s probably too small to thread a needle."
"..." Mr. Hart let his hand drop and unconsciously clenched the bedding.
This girl, taking advantage yet playing coy!
If only his legs weren’t immobile—otherwise, he’d climb out of bed, grab her, pin her down properly, and teach her to behave! She wouldn’t dare provoke him again!
Seeing his anger flare to the point that his jawline tightened sharply, Alia sighed with feigned pity and changed the subject: "Have you had dinner? When did Noah and the others leave?"
Soone ignored her.
"I’m talking to you, cat got your tongue?"
"Yes, I’ve eaten."
"But I haven’t, I’m starving. Work was piled up at the office—I was so busy I didn’t even have ti to drink water, and I rushed straight to the hospital afterward."
She explained deliberately why she had co so late.
Christopher’s expression eased slightly, but he still said in exasperation, "You really think being a boss is easy? With your life, you could just enjoy it, yet you choose to suffer."
"I am enjoying life right now." Alia set her phone down, went to the bathroom to wash her hands, then returned to continue, "Having my own career and working hard for it is the purest enjoynt—it makes feel secure and fulfilled."
Christopher understood her aning—relying on oneself is better than relying on others.
This woman truly had changed.
She was no longer the indecisive little girl who once followed behind him but rather soone who could walk side by side with him and even guide him forward.
While it was gratifying, it also made his heart ache.
Forced growth always cos with incredible hardship.
After Alia finished speaking, she noticed he had fallen silent again. Yet a pair of deep and srizing eyes stared at her intently, as if lost in thought.
She suddenly felt awkward.
"Why are you staring at ?"
"Nothing. Didn’t you say you haven’t eaten? Then go out and eat."
She sat tiredly, slumping into the chair. Her voice lacked energy as she spoke, "Too exhausted to walk, I’ll order delivery."
With that, she picked up her phone to browse food options.
Christopher stared at her again, and that strange, peculiar feeling surged up.
This woman had changed...
Her attitude towards him was visibly different now.
In front of him, she seed more relaxed.
No longer guarded, tense, or repellent like before—she was casual, even comfortable.
He wanted to ask her about it but feared the answer would drive him mad.
anwhile, Alia stared at the screen, though her mind drifted elsewhere.
Was she acting too much?
Had he noticed sothing?
Snow Fitch had so eagerly anticipated Christopher’s reaction upon realizing her feelings, but now Alia felt slightly panicky.
Not panic out of fear—rather, because of their prolonged distance and detachnt. Suddenly changing the dynamics between them left her feeling uncertain and uneasy, terrified of any blunder.
Sigh...
Being in love really is troubleso—you worry about how you appear in their eyes and in their heart.
You have to consider their feelings, take their pride into account.
You want closeness, but not overly indulgently so.
She thought about the jumble of issues until, sohow, she ended up clicking on an exceptionally spicy dish: Sichuan-style boiled fish.
After just two bites, she was gulping down water and fanning her tongue frantically.
From his hospital bed, Christopher, the poor patient, could already sll the pungent aroma stinging his nose. He sneezed twice, causing the pressure in his abdon to jolt his wound, leaving his face pale with pain.
"What on earth are you eating? Since when do you like spicy food this much?" Mr. Hart barked angrily after the pain finally subsided.
Alia wiped her nose, tearfully lanting, "I didn’t expect it to be this spicy—I probably picked the wrong option."
But she couldn’t deny it—the intense spice was oddly delicious, making her appetite soar.
Noticing Christopher’s gaze, she picked up a piece of fish and teasingly held it out towards him. "Wanna try? It’s pretty good."
Christopher glared at her, disbelief all over his face: "Do you think I can eat that?"
"Oh... right. Then you can just watch eat."
"..."
But why did her eating have to be so dramatic?
Between the gasping "hisses," the tongue-fanning, the frantic water drinking, and the sweating.
This isn’t sumr—it’s winter. Why so ’hot’?
Yet Alia was genuinely hot.
Hot enough for sweat to bead down her back.
Hot enough to remove her coat and scarf, leaving herself in a fitted V-neck knit sweater that perfectly showcased her graceful, alluring figure.
Alone with her like this—tongue out for air and dressed provocatively!
Did she not realize what that ant in a man’s eyes?
Christopher stared at her angrily, his body surging with an undeniable blood rush.
This woman—was she doing it on purpose?!
At this instant, he half-wished his eyes hadn’t healed—blindness would’ve spared him the tornt of being stirred up and losing all composure.
"Alia Garcia, are you a dog?" Finally, he snapped.
"What?" The woman enthusiastically enjoying her al looked up. "Who are you cursing at?"
"..." Christopher fixed his gaze on her.
Staring intensely, his eyes couldn’t help but trace the line of her elegant neck downward.
She was slim, her collarbone delicate and sharp, with even the hollow indents tempting seduction.
Below...
Christopher hastily averted his gaze, scolding himself for being immobile—unable to turn away completely.
Right now, he felt precisely like Monk Don trapped inside Silk Cave—beauty in front of him, yet all he could do was flee desperately.
"Get out and eat sowhere else!" Finally, he turned his head away, leaving only a chiseled jawline behind as he growled through clenched teeth.
"What?" Alia raised her voice, hearing him tell her to "get out," and her inner warmth instantly turned into fiery irritation. "What’s wrong with you? You’re the one who insisted I co to this ward, and now you’re kicking out! What did I ever do to you?"
"Who insisted? You can co and go as you please!"
Insisted?
Ha! Clearly, she was wronged, thinking he forced her to be here—didn’t even want to co, didn’t want to share a space with him. All clearly under duress.
In the past, when faced with this tone, Alia likely wouldn’t argue, would stand up and leave without saying another word, being distant and awkward for days.
But today...
Anger rose within her, yet after calming herself, she let go of her smile coldly. "Why should I co just because you say so, and leave because you command? Is that fair?"
This ti, she defiantly refused to leave.
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