Chapter 475: Can You Bear It?

Chapter 475: Can You Bear It?

"How exactly do you want me to use my charm?"

"Well, obviously—work your magic!"

"Can you bear it?"

Emily was about to tease him when a sleek black Maybach pulled up at the intersection ahead. The window lowered, revealing Charles's handsome face. Without hesitation, he pulled the car directly in front of her.

Before Emily could react, Charles had already stridden forward and pulled her firmly into his embrace.

Emily's cheek pressed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat—steady, powerful, like a drumbeat reverberating through her, chasing away every trace of cold and exhaustion.

Nestled against him, Emily's voice came out soft and trembling, carrying a hint of dependence she couldn't quite hide. Her fingers instinctively clutched at his suit jacket, crumpling the fabric. "I can't. My Mr. Windsor belongs to me alone. How could I possibly let anyone else have him?"

Charles's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, then his arms tightened, holding her closer.

"Good. As long as you know that, Emily. As long as you know." His warm breath brushed against her ear, tickling slightly, his lips grazing the top of her head.

The next moment, he loosened his hold just enough to tilt her chin upward with his fingertips.

Before Emily could speak, he leaned down, his lips gently covering hers.

Emily closed her eyes, surrendering to the tenderness, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She felt the cool smoothness of his skin, and in that moment, all her anxiety, exhaustion, and scheming dissolved into nothing.

Charles felt her response, the emotion in his eyes deepening. The kiss grew more intense, their warm breaths mingling, creating a faint mist in the sunlight.

Charles traced her lower lip with his thumb, the touch feather-light and teasing. His voice came low and indulgent, still rough with emotion. "Get in. I'm taking you home."

Charles opened the car door for Emily, waiting until she was settled before circling around to the driver's seat. But he didn't start the engine right away.

One hand rested on the steering wheel as he turned to look at her, his gaze settling on the obsidian serpent ring at her throat. A shadow flickered across his eyes.

"Turning on the charm? Not a problem. But Anouk isn't a fool. She's survived this long under Miguel's thumb because her instincts are sharper than most people's."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"She's investigated us. She knows exactly how much I love you. If I suddenly start showing interest, she won't buy it. But if—" He paused. "If we had a falling out. If I became cold toward you. Indifferent. Even... disgusted."

Emily fell silent for a moment, then smiled. "So Mr. Windsor wants us to put on a show?"

Charles's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "More than that. I've already spoken to Great-Uncle Ollie. He'll play along. Starting tomorrow, everyone in the Windsor family will change how they treat you. You're going to have to endure some... unpleasantness."

He said it casually, but Emily noticed the rigid set of his jaw, as if he were forcibly suppressing something.

"Can you bear it?" she asked deliberately, echoing his earlier words.

Charles slammed on the brakes. The car jerked to a stop at the roadside. He turned to face her, raw emotion churning in his eyes, though his voice remained dangerously low. "No. I can't. But compared to putting you in danger, I'd rather you hate me for a while."

He reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the skin of her wrist where a faint scar remained.

"Emily, we have to make this performance so convincing that Anouk believes it completely. Believes it enough to... make a move against me."

 

Three days later, Ace hosted a charity gala.

Crystal chandeliers flooded the ballroom with light bright as daylight. Amid the perfume and rustling gowns, Charles stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in a black tuxedo, champagne flute in hand, his gaze resting on Anouk across the room. She was chatting and laughing with several socialites.

Tonight she wore a wine-red gown that made her skin look like porcelain. She was turned toward a distant Perez family cousin, smiling warmly, but her eyes kept drifting in Charles's direction.

Charles looked away and drained his glass in one motion, a carefully calibrated flash of irritation crossing his features.

Anouk appeared at his side, her voice soft with concern. "Mr. Windsor. Drinking alone?"

Charles glanced up at her, his gaze lingering on her face for just a moment before sliding away to the far side of the room. There, Emily stood while Ollie coldly reprimanded her. Whispers rippled through the nearby crowd, casting pitying or mocking glances her way.

"Mr. Windsor?" Anouk tried again.

Charles seemed to snap back to attention. He made a noncommittal sound but didn't respond further.

Anouk followed his line of sight, the corner of her mouth lifting before she quickly suppressed it, replacing her expression with one of concern. "Ms. Johnson... has she upset Mr. Ollie Windsor?"

Charles's fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles went white. His voice came out cold as ice. "A while back, when I was lying in that hospital bed, barely clinging to life, she disappeared. God knows where she ran off to."

That single sentence felt like opening a floodgate.

A spark lit in Anouk's eyes, though she quickly lowered her gaze, her tone growing even gentler. "Ms. Johnson is young and... impulsive. These things happen. Please don't take it too much to heart, Mr. Windsor."

Charles suddenly let out a bitter laugh and slammed his glass down hard on a passing waiter's tray. "Why should I? After all, we're already divorced. She's just an ex-wife. Why the hell should I care what she does?"