Chapter 76 What If We Got Married
The warm lighting cast a gentle glow over steaming dishes.
"Your arm still hasn't healed properly." Nicholas's voice carried a note of weariness. "Just let the housekeeper handle the cooking."
His mood was clearly somber.
Zoe took a few steps forward, rising on her tiptoes as her soft body pressed against him, her voice sweet and tender.
"That's different—I made this especially for you."
She nestled against his chest like a purring kitten.
"Nicholas, please try it."
Nicholas allowed her to guide him to the dining table. He sampled a bite—the food was actually quite good.
He nodded without expression. "It's delicious."
Zoe moved to his side, wrapping her arms tightly around his arm. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, her warm breath brushing his neck.
"Nicholas, if you like it, I could cook for you every day."
Her voice held expectant hope.
"What if we got married?"
Nicholas's spoon froze mid-air.
After several seconds of silence, he slowly set down the utensil.
"I have some company matters to handle. I'll be in my study."
He stood and walked directly toward his office.
The study remained unlit, with only faint moonlight filtering through the windows.
Nicholas sank into the large leather chair and closed his eyes.
In his mind, he saw Emma clutching his shirt, begging him not to leave.
Those eyes—usually so clear and defiant—had been filled with humble pleading.
He remembered feeling heartbroken in that moment.
If he hadn't disappointed her yet again, would she have been so cold to him today?
Unbidden images flashed through his mind.
At the estate, her clumsy fall in the bathroom, eyes rimmed red with tears.
At the horse riding grounds, her panicked tumble from the horse, his desperate leap to save her as they both plunged into the icy river water, her trembling body pressed against his as she cried out for help.
And her satisfied expression as she ate barbecue while watching Victoria's folk dance performance.
Like a seed planted without his notice, she had somehow taken root in his heart.
So why did he keep pushing her away, refusing to stay for her sake?
Nicholas's brow furrowed as a suffocating weight pressed against his chest.
...
At the Jackson family mansion, in Evelyn's spacious bedroom.
Evelyn and Emma lounged comfortably in matching cartoon pajamas.
A stack of men's photographs was spread across the bedsheets.
"Emma, look! This heir to the White family is absolutely perfect! He's incredibly handsome and has that strong, commanding presence."
Evelyn held up a photo, clicking her tongue in admiration.
"Wait, don't you think his features resemble yours a bit?"
She held the photo next to Emma's face, comparing them from different angles. They really did look similar!
Emma raised her hand and swatted Evelyn's away irritably.
"Stop that. The White family has too deep military and political connections—you couldn't handle that world."
She pointed to several other photos. "Look, these guys come from families that own mining companies. They're wealthy but simple, and they're faithful. Perfect for you."
Evelyn nodded thoughtfully.
"True. With men like that, either I claim them for myself or destroy them completely!"
She made a swift chopping motion, her expression fierce.
Emma watched her sister's dramatic gesture and couldn't help but tease, "Where exactly did you pick up those gangster moves?"
In the adjacent room, Ruby suddenly kicked out in her sleep, sending her husband tumbling to the floor.
"Insolent fool! How dare you block my path!"
He clutched his pillow in confusion and scrambled away.
...
Late at night.
The door to Nicholas's bedroom was quietly pushed open just a crack.
Zoe slipped inside wearing a revealing silk nightgown, her bare feet making no sound on the floor.
She approached the bed, lifted the edge of the covers, and slid in beside Nicholas.
Then she reached out, gently wrapping her arms around his warm body from behind.
The moment she touched him, Nicholas awakened instantly.
His body tensed with alertness as his eyes snapped open, completely clear and devoid of any drowsiness.
Zoe's voice trembled with vulnerability as she spoke against his back.
"Nicholas, I'm a little scared sleeping alone. I can't fall asleep."
Her voice was soft and sweet, deliberately fragile.
The bedside lamp flicked on, harsh light instantly banishing the darkness.
Nicholas sat up abruptly, threw back the covers, and swung his legs out of bed with practiced efficiency.
He stood beside the bed, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow in the lamplight.
Wearing only boxer briefs, his muscular physique was fully displayed—every line sculpted and powerful, radiating masculine strength.
He frowned down at Zoe, who remained sprawled on his bed, his gaze ice-cold.
"Get out."
His voice held no warmth whatsoever.
Rather than leaving, Zoe crawled toward the edge of the bed on her knees, tilting her face up to look at him.
She reached out with pale, delicate fingers, tentatively grasping his hand that hung at his side.
The position forced her to look up at him while he need only glance down to take in the full view of her current state.
She bit her lower lip, her voice breaking with tears.
"Nicholas, please don't reject me anymore. I genuinely want... want to stay by your side."
"I want to cook for you, take care of you, be your devoted wife and bear your children..."
"Nicholas, don't send me away. Please."
Her eyes quickly filled with tears that sparkled under the light. Her delicate, seductive appearance—so pitiful and vulnerable—would have melted any normal man's heart.
However, Nicholas wasn't like other men. His expression remained unmoved as he forcefully pulled his hand away.
Zoe's fingers slipped across his calloused palm as he withdrew, leaving a brief sting.
Nicholas turned his back to her, taking a deep breath as if struggling to control something within himself.
"Zoe, leave. Now. Immediately."
His voice was even deeper than before, carrying undeniable authority.
But Zoe acted as if she hadn't heard him. She lunged from the bed, throwing her arms around his powerful frame from behind.
Her cheek pressed against his burning back as she felt his muscles tense.
"Nicholas! Don't reject me! You said it yourself... you said it! You told me to give myself to you!"
She cried out desperately, tightening her grip.
"Even though... even though it's been so many years, my body, my heart—they've always belonged to you!"
Yes, he had said that.
Four years ago, when he'd first realized he loved this girl, in a moment of passion, he'd said it half-jokingly, half-seriously.
But what happened after that?
Three years ago, he'd been in a devastating car accident that left him blind.
Lying in that hospital bed, she was the first person he thought of. He'd sent people to find her, to tell her he wanted to marry her.
She had agreed, but the next day, she vanished without a trace.
From that moment, everything changed.
All those former feelings and promises became a cruel joke.
The aura around Nicholas grew increasingly frigid.
He made no attempt to break free from her embrace, simply speaking with calm finality, each word like ice shards hitting the ground.
"Zoe, I'm sorry. I cannot marry you."
A clear, uncompromising rejection. Only in this moment did he truly understand his own heart.
Whatever affection he felt for her was mixed with gratitude, not pure love.
Those past moments of attraction had long since vanished.
Zoe's arms around him went rigid.
The seductive vulnerability drained from her face instantly, replaced by panic and fear.
She released him, stumbling back two steps as real tears began to fall.
"Nicholas, I was wrong! I was wrong, isn't that enough?"
"I won't pressure you anymore, truly—I'll never pressure you again."
Her words came out incoherently, her voice shaking.
"Please don't make me leave... I won't disturb your rest anymore."
With that, she seemed unable to bear his cold gaze any longer. She turned and stumbled out of the room.
The door slammed shut.
In the hallway, Zoe leaned against the cold wall, roughly wiping the tears from her face.
Her pitiful demeanor vanished completely, replaced by pure malice.
She glared at the closed door with vicious hatred, grinding her teeth.
"Emma, this is all because of you!"
Inside the room, Nicholas lay back down but couldn't return to sleep.
In the darkness, he stared at the ceiling with open eyes.
Time passed slowly until exhaustion finally claimed him, and he drifted into restless slumber.
In his dreams, there was familiar, passionate intimacy. She radiated an intoxicating fragrance, continuously tempting him.
Unconsciously, he tightened his arms, murmuring softly in his sleep.
"Emma..."