Chapter 63: Afraid of Polluting the Eyes
Sensing that Julian in the back seat was about to lose control of his anger, I turned to look at him. His eyes still held traces of coldness that hadn't faded.
"Julian, would you like to try these grapes? They're really sweet."
Julian stared at me without saying a word, but Layla nodded and took a few. "Thank you, Samantha."
Then she looked at Julian and asked, "Julian, do you want some?"
Julian replied coldly, "You eat them yourself."
Even if Julian hadn't remembered everything, this was enough to slowly wear away his feelings for Layla.
Just like when he forgot about me—if I showed him even a little bit of care, he'd find me annoying.
I was curious what methods Layla would try next to marry Julian.
Seeing that I didn't choose Silverwood Commons like last time, Julian asked, "Didn't you like that villa?"
I nodded gently, blinking innocently while saying something hurtful. "No, I didn't. And I think that development had such a terrible murder case—it's not really suitable for living anymore."
Hearing this, Julian's expression darkened instantly.
Even though my statue was no longer there, just thinking about how our carefully decorated new home had traces of them—even buying in the same neighborhood—I found it hard to accept.
This time I had my eye on a large flat in the city center, in an expensive area.
Although it was already a high-end development, for Julian who was used to living in big villas, it seemed a bit beneath him.
The car stopped in front of a building.
Julian looked at the house before him and frowned.
"A flat like this doesn't have as much privacy as a villa. How about we look at something else?"
I smiled faintly.
"I think this place is pretty good. This unit is on the first floor and comes with a courtyard that can be renovated however we like."
"Plus it's convenient for Gabriel to get around—no stairs to climb, no worrying about elevator maintenance, and it's already renovated in a style I really like."
With that, I pushed Gabriel slowly into the unit.
I looked down at Gabriel, asking with some anticipation, "Gabriel, what do you think of this place?"
"As long as you like it," he said calmly.
I took his hand on my own initiative, looking at him sincerely.
"Gabriel, we're going to live here together. So it can't just be about what I like—your feelings matter just as much."
"If you're not completely satisfied with this place, we can look at a few more. Buying a house is a big deal. I'm not in a rush—we can take our time until we find a place we both really love."
Having just come in from outside, my hand was still a bit cold, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at me deeply and said, "No need. Let's go with this one."
He turned to Everett beside him. "Everett, go make the arrangements."
"Yes, Mr. Westbrook."
That's it? Wasn't that a bit hasty?
Did he think looking at other houses would be too much trouble?
Gabriel seemed to read my mind like he had telepathy.
He added, "The environment here is great, and both the transportation and nearby amenities are very convenient. I really like it here too."
Hearing this, I couldn't help but think to myself: Gabriel really is thoughtful all the time.
And just like that, our new home was decided.
Gabriel paid for the house in full without hesitation and registered me as the property owner.
On the way back, the car was quiet except for the soft sound of the air conditioning.
Layla sat in the back seat, deliberately trying to please Julian.
She thought I hadn't noticed, but from the corner of my eye I could see her in the back seat, in the corner she thought no one was watching, constantly trying to hold Julian's hand.
Even after Julian refused, she wouldn't give up, deliberately rubbing against his thigh, trying to arouse his physical desire.
At first Julian resisted, but perhaps in such circumstances, the evil side of human nature revealed itself.
Julian naturally had a reaction.
Come to think of it, he'd been depressed about my death for a while now—he probably hadn't satisfied his sexual urges in quite some time.
That's why, with Layla's light teasing, he couldn't control himself.
When Layla's hand gently rubbed on his thigh, even his breathing became heavier.
In the hidden back seat, with Gabriel and me sitting right in front, this secretive and forbidden thrill seemed to excite him even more.
Layla probably thought the people in the front were just looking at the scenery, so she got bolder and bolder.
She first hooked Julian's finger with her pinky, and when he didn't pull away, she covered his hand with her whole palm.
I didn't need to turn around to know what was happening in the back seat—those faint rustling sounds of fabric rubbing together were enough to make anyone cringe.
I turned my head pretending to look at the scenery, but I saw everything she was doing.
Her hand started sliding down, slowly moving from Julian's wrist to his thigh.
Through his pants, her fingertips drew circles, like playing the piano.
Julian suddenly grabbed her wrist. I saw in the rearview mirror that he was frowning, his lips moving—probably saying "stop it."
But if Layla were the obedient type, she wouldn't have caused so much trouble.
Not only did Layla not listen, she got worse, her fingers moving directly toward his inner thigh.
These two bastards—did they think we were dead?
Layla's breathing got heavier and heavier, her fingers still shamelessly moving.
Julian had been pushing her away at first, but somehow later he let go and let her do whatever she wanted.
A cold smile crossed my lips. Julian was just a big boy who never grew up—talking about missing me while his body was being completely honest.
I looked away. If I kept watching, I was afraid my eyes would be contaminated.
The moment the car stopped at The Westbrook Manor, Julian jumped out in a hurry.
He straightened his somewhat wrinkled pants, his ears red enough to drip blood, his eyes avoiding ours.
I could clearly see the desire in his eyes that hadn't faded—obviously unsatisfied.
At the end of the day, people are just monsters carrying their desires.