Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Sarah's cruel words wrapped around Jessica's heart like a cold serpent, refusing to let go.

The freezing wind stung her face, yet it couldn’t clear the chaos in her mind.

She knew Sarah was lying, but those words,especially "homewrecker"hit the most vulnerable part of her.

Jessica lowered her lashes, an indescribable sense of guilt washing over her like a tide.

Yes, even though that relationship had been a misunderstanding from the start, Michael's forceful intrusion into her lifeand that flutter in her own heart she dared not acknowledgemade her feel as though she truly had become some shameless thief.

The vast chasm between their social classes, the tangled past,it was like an inescapable net closing in.

She couldn't go on like this. Now that she'd left the City Police Department, she needed to make a clean break. She had to stay far away from Michael.

Arriving back at her apartment building, the night wind grew even colder.

Jessica reached for her keys out of habit, only to find nothing in her pocket.

It hit her then,Michael had taken her spare key.

With a helpless sigh, she looked up, only to notice with surprise that her floor's window glowed with warm, inviting light.

Puzzled, Jessica climbed the stairs.

Just as she reached her door, she ran into her landlady Thora, who was heading downstairs with a trash bag.

Thora's eyes crinkled into crescent moons the moment she spotted her. Her voice carried obvious envy. "Oh, Jessica! Home from work? Not only is your boyfriend gorgeous, but he's so domestic too. Still in there cooking for you this late. You'd better hold onto that one, dear."

Jessica froze, about to explain, when the security door swung open from inside.

Michael's tall frame blocked most of the light from within.

He had shed that intimidating police uniform, wearing only a simple white dress shirt with sleeves casually rolled to his elbows. Around his waist,completely at odds with his austere demeanorhung a gray apron. He even held a spatula in one hand.

"You're home." Michael looked at her, his deep ice-blue eyes stripped of their usual commanding intensity, revealing instead a rare gentleness. He naturally stepped aside, making room. "It's cold out. Come in."

This strikingly domestic image left Jessica momentarily dazed.

She stiffly crossed the threshold. The apartment smelled of home-cooked food mingling with his faint crisp cedar scent, creating an inexplicable warmth.

The entire living room had been transformed. Warm lighting fell across the soft wool rug, completely banishing the winter night's chill.

Michael set down the spatula and reached out naturally, intending to take the canvas bag from her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Jessica jerked back as if electrocuted, her voice so sharp it startled even herself.

Michael's hand froze mid-air. The warmth in his eyes slowly sank, replaced by deep scrutiny.

"Michael, what exactly are you trying to do?" Jessica clutched her bag strap tightly, knuckles white with tension, eyes reddening from extreme restraint. "What do you think this place is? What do you think I am? Please, I'm begging you,leave my home."

Faced with her sharp rejection, Michael's jawline tensed.

He studied her for several seconds, neither losing his temper nor pulling rank as he usually did.

Instead, he silently withdrew his hand, turned, and walked into the kitchen. He plated the final dish and carried it to the dining table.

Three dishes and a soup, balanced and steaming.

He removed the apron, draped it over a chair back, and methodically rolled down his shirtsleeves while speaking in a low voice. "The food's on the table. Eat while it's hot. Your stomach's sensitive,stop skipping meals and staying up late. Tomorrow's supposed to get colder. Remember to layer up."

The calm composure and restrained care in his tone pierced Jessica's heart like a soft thorn.

It created an illusionas if they were an ordinary loving couple,threatening to completely demolish the psychological walls she'd worked so hard to build.

"How much did all this cost? The furniture, the renovation?" Jessica drew a deep breath, forcing herself to harden her heart. Her gaze fixed coldly on him. "Including tonight's dinner. I'll transfer the money. Then we're even. Forever."

Michael's hand paused mid-motion as he reached for his coat.

He glanced up at her, his expression inscrutable as a bottomless frozen lake, suppressing some turbulent emotion beneath the surface.

He didn't answer her question. Instead, he picked up his car keys from the console table, tossing out flatly. "You're exhausted today. Get some rest. We'll discuss money later."

The door closed, taking with it that crisp cedar scent.

The spacious apartment fell silent, leaving only Jessica.

All strength seemed to drain from her body. She slid slowly down the cold wall until she crouched on the floor.

Staring at those steaming home-cooked dishes on the dining table, her vision blurred. The tears she'd suppressed all evening finally broke free.

She didn't understand how things had come to this,why the only person offering her any warmth in this cold city was the very one she couldn't allow herself to approach.

Downstairs, the bitter wind howled.

Michael didn't leave immediately. He leaned against the black Bentley, a lit cigarette between his fingers, its crimson ember flickering in the darkness.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed intensely on that warmly lit second-floor window, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

Jessica's reaction tonight was too abnormal.

He knew her too well. Though stubborn, she would never raise her defenses so completely without reason, refusing even basic communication.

Michael dropped the half-smoked cigarette to the ground and crushed it viciously beneath his shoe.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Justin, his voice cold as an ice-forged blade, carrying unquestionable authority.

"Find out who Jessica met after work today. What was said. Don't miss a single detail. Report back immediately."

The night grew darker. The freezing wind swept dry leaves across the street.

The cigarette burned down to the filter, scorching his fingers before he finally snapped back to reality.