Chapter 73 Came Knocking on the Door

Chapter 73 Came Knocking on the Door

Giselle looked at the impeccably dressed yet cold man before her, feeling the whole situation was absurd and pathetic.

She had been running for so long, hiding for so long. In the end, he still found her effortlessly.

"Are you stalking me?" She finally found her voice, her questioning carrying a tremor and fear she didn't even notice herself.

Valentin didn't answer. He just took a step closer to her.

His figure blocked the already dim hallway light, and Giselle was completely covered by his shadow. Her back pressed against the cold door—she had nowhere left to retreat.

The cold scent of cedarwood from his body quickly filled her senses, and her heartbeat pounded like a drum.

He leaned down slightly, that nearly flawless face closing in before her eyes, so close she could see the shadows cast by his long lashes behind his glasses.

Giselle's breath caught. She thought he was going to silence all her words with a kiss again, just like before.

She closed her eyes and turned her face away, humiliated yet resigned. Her neck tensed, looking fragile.

The expected kiss never came.

His warm breath brushed past her ear, his voice low and mocking, "Hear those footsteps? Want your neighbors to see you bringing a man home in the middle of the night?"

Sure enough, footsteps and the jingling of keys echoed in the stairwell, along with the soft rustling of plastic bags.

Giselle's eyes flew open, embarrassment and anger flooding in simultaneously as her face quickly flushed red.

That bastard—he did it on purpose!

She glared at him fiercely, her look like a cornered animal, yet carrying no real threat. As the footsteps grew closer and the pressure mounted, she gritted her teeth and fumbled for her keys in her bag, her hands shaking so much she couldn't align them with the lock several times.

The lock clicked softly, and the door opened.

Just as she was about to step aside to let him in, Valentin had already walked in first like he owned the place.

Giselle clenched her fists and followed him in reluctantly. She closed the door behind her, as if trying to block out the hallway's gaze and the oppressive feeling he brought with him.

Valentin stood in the center of the cramped living room, his posture straight and distant. He looked completely out of place in this compact apartment full of signs of daily life.

He scanned the room, his gaze sweeping over the blanket casually draped on the sofa, the slightly wilted baby's breath on the dining table, and finally stopping at the small window.

His brow furrowed, his distaste barely concealed.

"You live here?" he finally spoke, his tone carrying condescending criticism. "Don't you find it unbearable?"

That remark directly pierced through Giselle's strained dignity.

She tossed her bag on the sofa and straightened her back to fight back, "I live alone. I do whatever's convenient. No need for your concern."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she instinctively started taking off her cashmere coat.

It was her habit when living alone—changing into comfortable clothes as soon as she got home.

The hem slid halfway down before she suddenly came to her senses—there was another person in the room.

Her movement froze. She looked up, meeting his unfathomable eyes directly.

His gaze felt heavy, pressing down on her, moving from her slightly messy hair to her face flushed with tension, finally stopping at her shoulders that looked especially delicate in just a thin knit sweater.

The look wasn't exactly explicit, but it clearly carried scrutiny and possession, making her uncomfortable all over.

Giselle pulled her half-removed coat back on and turned her face away, her voice weakening, "What... what do you want?"

Valentin withdrew his gaze and unhurriedly unbuttoned his own coat, draping it casually over the back of the sofa as if he were the owner here.

He walked up to her, forcing her to step back until her lower back pressed against the cold dining table.

"What do you want to hear?" he asked back slowly, a half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "That I'm here to drag you back to continue your secretarial duties? Or that I'm here to... settle old scores between us?"

Each word felt like it was hammering on her chest.

Giselle knew very well she couldn't stay calm in front of him.

His every move, every word, could easily disrupt the balance she had worked so hard to build.

That fear of being controlled and the sense of helplessness surged up again, crushing her last layer of pretense.

She lifted her head, her usually defiant and bright eyes now filled with pleading and exhaustion.

"Valentin, please let me go." Her voice was hoarse, carrying a sob she didn't even notice herself. "We're from completely different worlds. I just want to live my own life. I... I really like this peaceful life I have now."

Her drained appearance didn't earn even a shred of pity from Valentin. Instead, it made the darkness in his eyes deepen. He leaned down, his thin lips almost touching hers, trapping her breath. His voice was low, carrying playful cruelty, "Like a peaceful life?"

He paused, his hot breath grazing her sensitive skin, triggering a small shiver.

"Or do you like me?"

The question struck like lightning in Giselle's mind.

Her eyes widened, the pleading instantly replaced by shock and humiliated anger.

The secret buried deepest in her heart was exposed by him so casually yet precisely, heat rushing to her face.

"What are you talking about!" She instinctively shot back, her voice suddenly rising. But her rapidly reddening face and ears still exposed her guilty conscience completely.

"Why are you blushing?" Valentin straightened up, unhurriedly examining her flustered appearance, the curve of his mouth becoming more cutting. "Did I hit the mark?"

"That's because you're making me angry!" Giselle pushed him away forcefully, as if trying to prove her innocence. But that little bit of force had almost no effect on him. She retreated to what she thought was a safe distance, staring at him with reddened eyes, finally grasping a point to fight back.

"Mr. Dobbins, please remember your position! You barge into my place in the middle of the night—aren't you afraid your girlfriend will misunderstand?" She straightened her back, each word carrying accusation. "I don't want to be cursed at again, being called shameless for seducing someone else's boyfriend!"

She thought these words would at least make him restrain himself a bit, or at least make him think of Stella.

However, Valentin just raised an eyebrow, as if he'd heard the biggest joke, his tone full of contempt and disdain, "My girlfriend?"