Chapter 733 Elliot, The Smoke Will Hurt You
Molly wanted something real, but Elliot had made it clear—his heart was only given once.
He had said it plainly. What they had now was nothing more than a mutually agreed transaction. If she could not handle it, she should walk away immediately.
Molly could not.
This conversation was rare, and she did not want to waste it. She turned her head, her eyes fixed on him. "Then... is there anything else you want?"
The black Range Rover moved through the night, casting streetlights behind them one after another.
In that steady rhythm of light and shadow, Elliot finally spoke, his voice low, "I told you. Between us, there will be nothing but sex."
"I know."
Her voice was small. She turned away, watching the city blur past the window. The car was quiet, yet something unspoken lingered in the air—something warm, dangerous, and impossible to name.
At a red light, the car slowed to a stop. Molly started to look ahead, but felt his hand close over hers.
Warm. Firm. And gone in an instant.
She could not move for a long moment.
When the light turned green, she finally whispered, her voice trembling, "Elliot?"
He did not answer. He pressed the accelerator, and the car slipped back into the darkness—like the kind of relationship that could never stand in the daylight.
And Molly... she did not dare ask again.
Half an hour later, Elliot pulled up in front of her apartment building. She thought this was where the night would end. But she did not expect to see Magnolia waiting downstairs in the cold, wrapped in a thick blanket, Madeline standing behind her wheelchair.
Magnolia could not see, but her sense of smell was sharp. The moment Molly stepped out of the car, she caught her scent.
"Molly's back."
Without even putting on her coat, Molly rushed to her side, crouching down to cup Magnolia's hands. "Why are you waiting outside at this hour? It's freezing."
Madeline answered for her. "She couldn't sleep. Kept saying you'd be home soon, insisted on waiting here."
Molly's throat tightened. "Let's go home. I'll push you."
"Put your coat on first," Madeline urged. "It's too cold for just that shirt."
Molly slipped it on quickly, ready to wheel Magnolia inside—until Madeline's sharp eyes caught sight of Elliot stepping out of the Range Rover.
The car was expensive, but it was Elliot's presence that drew the eye. Tall, sharply dressed, handsome in a way that made it obvious why Molly was so taken with him.
Not just Madeline—Magnolia noticed him too.
She lifted her head slightly, breathing in. She caught the faint trace of his scent mingled with Molly's. Her fingers tightened on the blanket. Her voice trembled, "You must be Elliot... Elliot's back?"
To Magnolia, Elliot was like another grandson. Her tone was warm, unguarded.
Molly's face went pale.
She could not bear to imagine what would happen if Magnolia knew the truth about her and Elliot. And she dreaded what Elliot might say in return.
The moonlight was cold. Molly felt as if she had been dropped into an ice bath.
Elliot's gaze met hers, dark and unreadable.
Then, to her shock, he bent slightly and said, "Yes, Mrs. Lavien. I'm back."
Her grandmother's name seemed to stir something in him—memories of the woman who had cared for him as a boy, of Oliver and Sarah's grief when she passed. Oliver had wept like a child for days.
In his mind, Molly was Molly. Her grandmother was her grandmother.
And to Magnolia, he was nothing but kind.
Magnolia reached for his hand, tracing up his arm to his face. Elliot allowed it, patient. Madeline watched, thinking how striking he was—tall, long-legged, every line of his face refined, his clothes immaculate.
Molly was lucky, Madeline thought. To have caught a man like this.
Magnolia's fingertips brushed his cheek. She smiled. "Just as Molly said. Handsome. Proper."
Her blind eyes seemed to hold an entire galaxy for a moment. She invited him inside.
Molly cut in quickly, "Grandma, he has things to do."
But Elliot surprised her again. He agreed—and even pushed Magnolia's wheelchair into the elevator himself.
Molly followed, uneasy. "Elliot, this isn't a good idea."
Magnolia answered for him. "What's not good about it? Elliot's family. Now that he's back, let's plan the wedding while I'm still alive."
Her words hung in the air. She tilted her head toward Elliot, brushing his arm lightly. She liked him instantly, just from his scent.
The elevator was small. Molly had nowhere to go. She kept her eyes down, unwilling to see his reaction.
Madeline chuckled. "I've seen it myself. You two are a perfect match."
Magnolia smiled again, certain her granddaughter's hardships were finally over.
The apartment was neat, though clearly rented—some furniture belonged to the landlord.
Elliot glanced around. "Why not buy a place?"
Molly's tone was casual. "I save everything I earn. I don't feel safe without money."
He didn't press. He stayed with Magnolia until she fell asleep, then found Molly in the kitchen, washing a mug.
He watched her for a moment, then slid the kitchen door shut.
The sound made her flinch. His voice came from behind, low and even. "Molly, why did you tell your grandmother we're getting married?"
Shame and humiliation burned through her.
After a long pause, she said quietly, "It was just a white lie. You don't have to take it seriously. You don't have to worry about me clinging to you. In three months, I'll leave on my own. You have nothing to fear."
"Is that so?" He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then I'm relieved."
The silence that followed was heavy. Then he left.
Molly kept scrubbing the mug.
It was his, from years ago. After their bitter breakup, it was the only thing of his she had left. In her darkest days, she had pressed a seed into its soil— a small, stubborn seed of hope.
She had once wished that when it sprouted, he would come back to her. But it never did.
Night settled over the city.
Elliot sat in his car, leaning back, a white cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled around his face, blurring it.
He was sharp. Magnolia's words had told him enough—Molly liked him.
But her betrayal had been real. She had ended his career. Their love had begun as a bet, with a million dollars on the table. And now he knew she still cared.
Could he forgive her?
Could he take her back, spend the rest of his life with her?
No.
Even knowing she cared, it was like tasting sweetness laced with poison. Even if he still felt something for her, feelings wither in time.
Once he had a wife and children, his time and energy would belong to them. Whatever hold Molly had on him would fade like smoke.
And yet... he was wavering.
A week later, Molly was shooting an ad for M&E Technology.
Blake was more professional and polite than she had expected. He kept his distance, likely following his agent's advice. Even so, Elliot thought they were too close.
The director was ready to lose his mind after countless retakes.
Did the CEO really need to supervise a single product shoot?
People were not naive. They guessed Elliot was there for Molly, and treated her far better than they would have otherwise.
What should have taken half a day stretched into the evening.
When it was over, Blake was courteous, acting as if they were nothing more than colleagues.
Elliot's voice was quiet when he spoke to her. "I'll be in the parking lot. Take off your makeup and come down. Don't take too long."
She knew he disliked her being around other men. She nodded.
After he left, Blake asked casually, "You knew him before?"
She was surprised by the question, but after a moment, she nodded.
Blake smiled faintly. "I thought so. Mr. Windsor isn't the type to think highly of people in this industry. If he treats you differently, you must be an old acquaintance. Make the most of it. A chance to step beyond your station comes only once in a lifetime."
Perhaps realizing he had said too much, he left soon after.
As Molly removed her makeup, she thought—if Elliot had not been born into wealth, if he were not the CEO of M&E Technology, maybe she would have been braver. Maybe she could have wrapped her arms around his neck, cried, and begged him to forgive her.
But reality was cruel. Elliot was the most eligible man in Evergreen City.
'Marrying him? Molly, don't even think about it,' she thought bitterly.
Rumors flew through the industry. By now, everyone knew Elliot was behind her. Her ten-million-dollar endorsement was enough to make even award-winning actresses turn green, and some sneered that warming the right bed paid better than playing the right role.
Molly ignored it.
Once she had saved enough, she would leave the industry. She had never cared for fame or fortune. All she wanted was to survive.
She had known that men were drawn to the softness of a woman's skin. Ever since she had been with Elliot, she had paid extra attention to her skincare. A woman dressed up for the man she loved — and in Molly, that truth had taken form.
In the parking lot, she spotted his car.
Elliot was smoking, one arm resting out the window, the line of his wrist and forearm effortlessly elegant. But Molly remembered—he had never smoked before.
She got in, daring to pluck the cigarette from his fingers.
"Smoking's bad for you," she said softly.