Chapter 461 Intimate Interaction: Sarah, You Are So Beautiful!
Sarah was painting in her gallery when her secretary knocked on the door.
"Ms. Miller, Mrs. Moore from last time is here to see you."
Sarah paused, looking toward the entrance. It was indeed Hestia, though she'd lost considerable weight since their last meeting. A trace of sorrow lingered in her expression, suggesting life hadn't been kind to her.
Sarah didn't want to see her, but knew Hestia wouldn't leave without a conversation. She finally agreed to meet at a nearby café.
The aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the air as the two elegant women sat across from each other—two lives that would never have intersected if not for Nicholas.
Hestia broke the silence first. "You look well. Life must be treating you kindly."
"It's manageable," Sarah replied coolly.
The atmosphere grew tense with Sarah's indifference.
Hestia stirred her coffee gently, her voice filled with resignation. "I've been thinking... only if you return to the Moore family will Nicholas truly settle down. He'll stop his wandering, and Verity and Isaac can have their father in their childhood."
She grabbed Sarah's hand. "Verity and Isaac are adorable—you'd love them. They share your bloodline, after all."
Hestia was clearly attempting to appeal to Sarah's emotions. She had calculated that Sarah's return wouldn't fundamentally change anything; Nicholas would come home, but couldn't truly do anything inappropriate, and Sarah wouldn't allow it anyway. As long as he returned home, Hestia was willing to overlook the rest.
Before Sarah could refuse, a strong male hand pulled her up and behind him.
It was Oliver.
He looked down at Hestia with contempt. "Have you lost your mind? You can't control your husband, so Sarah should do it for you? What does Sarah owe the Moore family? You're the ones living comfortably in the Moore mansion—shouldn't you expect to face the consequences of your choices?"
Hestia trembled with anger.
Oliver flashed his fist. "Or did you not get enough last time?"
Gasps erupted from nearby tables.
In the car, Sarah felt a flutter of pleasure despite her feigned disapproval. "You were too rough back there. Everyone was watching us."
Oliver flashed his perfect smile. "They're just jealous you found such a good man—handsome, strong, and capable of making you cry out in pleasure at night..."
Sarah blushed crimson at his audacity.
He leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, whispering, "Am I wrong? Every night you make those sweet, delicate sounds that drive me wild."
With a click, he secured her seatbelt and looked into her eyes. "You won't soften toward them, will you?"
Sarah shook her head. "Never."
Relieved, Oliver asked cheerfully, "Why choose me over the Moore family?"
"Must I answer?"
"Please, Sarah. I want to hear it."
Sarah stared straight ahead and boldly replied, "Unlike the Moores, you might be a bit rough around the edges, but you're honest—and I respect that."
Oliver's blue eyes studied her intently.
Sarah certainly had a way with words.
But Oliver held his tongue. He continued driving calmly, occasionally taking her hand, every bit the perfect, attentive husband.
When the black Cullinan reached their villa, instead of parking in the open area, he drove directly into the underground garage. The car descended sharply, and before Sarah realized what was happening, the garage door locked behind them, ensuring the household staff couldn't enter.
Sarah suspected nothing.
As she unfastened her seatbelt to exit, Oliver gently caught her wrist.
In the dim light, he caressed her delicate face, his voice hoarse with desire. "Sarah, I want you."
Sarah's cheeks flushed immediately.
Alone together, Sarah abandoned all restraint. Her long hair cascaded over her slender shoulders, giving her a fragile, classical beauty.
Oliver's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
He gazed at her, entranced. "Sarah, you're so beautiful."
That evening, Sarah dined in the bedroom.
When Oliver carried her upstairs, he kissed the corner of her mouth tenderly. "Rest a while. I'll bring dinner up."
Embarrassed at the thought of the staff seeing her, Sarah insisted on going downstairs.
Oliver stopped her. "The household staff are all older women. They won't gossip."
Besides, his strict management ensured their discretion.
Sarah finally relented and lay down.
That night, Oliver took care of the children while she enjoyed her husband's tender attention. You could see the effect of this loving life on her—her skin seemed to glow in the mirror, the very picture of a woman in love.
Early the next morning, he personally drove the children to school. Sarah reminded herself not to provoke him so easily next time. Somehow, she always ended up on the losing side—but it was a loss she rather enjoyed.
After dropping off Jacob, Oliver headed toward his office.
Thoroughly satisfied from the previous night, he was in excellent spirits, chatting with Sarah as he drove. But approaching an intersection, he discovered the brakes had failed.
Cold sweat broke out across his back.
The intersection was busy with traffic, including several large vehicles. One wrong move could be fatal.
A large truck approached.
Impact was mere seconds away.
Oliver gripped the steering wheel tightly. In that critical moment, he made his decision, sharply turning right and deliberately scraping against the wall.
The car body ground against the concrete, sending sparks flying in all directions.