Chapter 17 Chapter 17
She had saved his number a few days ago. Still, when she saw it flashing on the display, something inside her stirred.
“Hello,” she answered, trying to sound natural.
On the other end, Nicholas Wolf's deep, magnetic voice broke the silence.
“Are you still shopping?” he asked, with a calmness that hid authority.
“No...” she replied, pouting slightly. Her tone sounded more moody than she intended.
“Are you unhappy?” he asked again, directly, his voice low as a whisper.
“No...” she lied, looking down at the floor.
Nicholas paused briefly, and when he spoke again, his voice was cold, almost icy:
“It seems that the person in charge of the mall needs to be replaced. Watson is incompetent. If he can't keep you satisfied, there's no reason for him to remain head of the Store Department.”
Caroline's eyes widened.
President Watson?
The same man who had intervened to help her a few minutes ago?
“Wait... why do you want to replace President Watson?” she asked, surprised.
“Because he didn't do enough,” Nicholas replied curtly. "If he can't take care of something simple and lets my wife leave there in a bad mood, what's the point of keeping him?
Caroline swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks flush.
His voice, even though cold, carried a possessiveness that took her breath away.
“I-it has nothing to do with President Watson,” she said quickly. “He handled everything very well. I... I just wasn't feeling very well.”
“Then why are you unhappy?” he insisted.
“Maybe I'm... hungry,” she improvised, blushing.
On the other end of the line, she heard a low, hoarse laugh that made her heart race.
“I understand...” Nicholas murmured. “I worked too hard today. But in the future, I promise I'll try to come home early to have dinner with you.”
Caroline blinked in surprise.
She didn't mean that!
“I'm nearby,” he continued, his voice softer now. “Do you want me to come to you... or will you come to me?”
“I'll come to you,” she replied quickly. “I'll be right down.”
She hung up before he could say anything else.
Nicholas Wolf had a presence that was impossible to ignore.
And if he showed up there, in the middle of the mall, he would attract too much attention.
It was better to keep up appearances.
Minutes later, Caroline was crossing the underground parking lot. The echo of her heels sounded on the cold concrete.
A shiny black Bentley turned on its headlights in the distance.
As she approached, the door opened with a soft click.
Inside the car, the scene made her pause for a second.
Nicholas was there—impeccable.
A slim laptop rested in his hands, and the light from the dashboard outlined his austere features.
He looked up.
And the world seemed to stop.
His eyes—cold, intense, deep as a lake—held her in place.
For a moment, Caroline forgot how to breathe.
The light from the car was warm, golden, and softened the lines of his face, making even his natural coldness seem... dangerous.
Seductive.
His gaze slowly swept over her, as if undressing her without touching her.
And in that brief moment, Caroline Ford's heart leapt inside her chest—treacherous, alive, completely surrendered.
Nicholas watched her for a few seconds, his gaze steady and inscrutable.
Then he turned slightly, his deep voice breaking the silence of the parking lot:
“Why are you still standing there? Get in.”
Caroline took a deep breath, her heart racing. She lightly touched her cheek, which still burned under his gaze, and finally got into the car.
As soon as the door closed, the air seemed to change.
The space—luxurious, quiet, enveloped in a golden twilight—seemed to shrink.
A soft, discreet, sophisticated aroma hung in the air. It wasn't the usual smell of leather and men's cologne. It was something deeper, more personal... his scent.
Caroline's heart beat faster.
She could feel his gaze—firm, heavy, unmistakable—resting on her the moment she sat down.
Nicholas Wolf was not a man who hid his interest.
He simply looked at her.
Unhurried. Unabashed.
And that look... it was almost palpable.
Caroline looked away, uncomfortable, trying to hide her tension. But before she could say anything, his voice echoed beside her ear—low, velvety, and absurdly magnetic:
“Why didn't you buy anything?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get the card José gave you?”
“I did...” she replied, hesitantly.
When he mentioned the card, something inside her stirred.
She remembered what she had decided: she had to return it. The card. And also the watch—that expensive watch, which she would never have the courage to wear.
So she took a deep breath, opened her purse, and took out both items.
The metallic shine of the watch reflected the interior lights of the car.
She held them out to him with steady hands, though her heart was trembling.
“Mr. Wolf...” she said softly, forcing a smile. “I want to return these. They're too valuable. Neither I nor Sarinha can accept them.”
Nicholas's expression darkened instantly.
The air seemed to freeze.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on her, his jaw clenched.
“Caroline Ford,” he said in a low, cold, cutting voice, “what exactly do you mean by that?”
She blinked, startled.
His tone wasn't loud, but the force that emanated from it was almost physical.
A kind of authority that made her shrink without realizing it.
Caroline had never been a shy woman. But in front of Nicholas Wolf, the confidence she usually carried evaporated.
There was something about him—something dangerous, uncontrollable, that made her feel small and vulnerable.
Swallowing hard, she tried to explain:
“Nicholas... I just...” Her voice faltered. “Even though we're married, I still don't feel comfortable with... all of this. I need some time to adjust.”
She took a deep breath and continued, in a softer tone:
“I'm grateful for what you do for Sarinha.” Really. But this watch... it's too expensive. She wouldn't dare wear it. If you want to give her a gift, choose something simpler, something that suits her.
Caroline hesitated, lowering her gaze.
“As for this card...” she murmured, almost in a whisper, “I can earn my own money. I...”
She couldn't finish.
Nicholas interrupted her, his voice cold and irresistibly authoritative:
“I can take the watch back for now,” he said, with tense calm. “But only until the day she's ready to wear it.”
He leaned in closer, his gaze fixed on her.
“The card, however...” He paused, and the silence seemed to vibrate between them. “You will keep that.”
His tone brooked no argument.
Caroline stood motionless, her heart pounding in her chest.
Nicholas Wolf's gaze was too steady, too intense.
And for a moment, she felt that, no matter how much she wanted to fight it, she was already completely trapped—not by contract, not by convenience... but by him.