Chapter 78: Temptation

Giselle froze in place. She could even smell the cool fir scent from his cuff, mixed with a faint trace of tobacco—utterly overwhelming.

Under the lights, an intimate atmosphere stirred in the air.

Giselle suddenly snapped back to reality. Like a startled animal, she shrank back, her voice carrying a hoarse edge from the shock. "I… I'll do it myself."

Valentin didn't insist. He slowly withdrew his handkerchief but didn't return to his seat. Instead, he leaned against the back of her chair, trapping her in that small space.

"Giselle." He called her name in a low voice, his tone deep and disarmingly soft.

"Mm?" Giselle kept her head down, not daring to look at him. Her heart was racing so fast it felt like it would burst through her chest.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

The question hit like a thunderclap.

The coughing Giselle had just suppressed came back. She jerked her head up, staring at him in disbelief, wondering if she had heard wrong.

"Mr. Dobbins, what… what did you just say?"

Valentin looked at her shocked expression, a trace of helplessness flickering in his eyes.

He repeated patiently, word by word, crystal clear.

"I said, Giselle, I'm interested in you. Do you understand now?"

She understood. She couldn't have understood more clearly.

But Giselle only felt it was absurd.

"Mr. Dobbins, this joke isn't funny at all." She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Setting aside our different social positions, just the connection with Stella alone makes anything between us impossible. In your eyes, I might be decent entertainment, but I have no interest in playing these rich people's games with you."

"I never joke." Valentin's gaze darkened, and that oppressive aura of someone in power swept over her again. "I've already dealt with her situation. Giselle, what exactly are you afraid of?"

"What am I afraid of?" Giselle laughed bitterly, her eyes slightly reddening. "I'm afraid of being treated again like something you can buy and sell, humiliate at will. In your eyes, I'm that secretary who comes whenever called, that woman whose motives get questioned even when pregnant. Valentin, your kind of interest—I really can't handle it."

Valentin's breath caught for a moment. Looking at that stubborn light in her eyes, he felt powerless for the first time.

"What happened that day was my fault." He lowered his head for the first time ever, his voice deep. "We can give it a try. Let's not talk about the past, only the present."

"Give it a try?" Giselle smiled self-mockingly, her gaze turning cold and distant. "Mr. Dobbins, some things once broken stay broken. No amount of trying can fix them."

She stood up, grabbed her bag, her movements decisive, without a trace of reluctance.

"How much is this meal? Let's split it."

The warmth in Valentin's expression vanished the instant he heard "split it," his face turning stormy.

He stared at her coldly, as if trying to drill a hole through her face.

"Giselle, say that again?"

"I said, I'll pay half of this meal." Giselle pulled out several bills from her wallet and placed them on the table, her voice calm and distant. "I don't want to owe you anything anymore. Not money, not favors."

Valentin was so angry he laughed instead. He swept his hand across the table, and the wine glass shattered, red liquid splashing onto the light-colored carpet, a shocking sight.

He stepped forward and gripped her wrist tightly, with force that felt like it would crush her bones.

"Giselle, are you trying to humiliate me or look down on me?"

"I just want us to be even." Giselle endured the pain, lifted her head, and met his fury with fearless eyes.

The air in the private room seemed to freeze in that instant. The rich aroma of wine mixed with the explosive tension between them.

Valentin stared at those scattered bills on the table, the fury in his eyes nearly overflowing.

He, the head of the Dobbins Group, had been reduced to having a woman pay for his meal? And in this insulting way that screamed "drawing boundaries."

"Take it back." His voice was terrifyingly low, as if he was desperately suppressing emotions about to explode.

"Mr. Dobbins, is it not enough?" Giselle smiled self-mockingly. "Right, this amount probably won't even cover an appetizer here. But this is all I have right now. The rest, I'll transfer to you in installments."

Valentin laughed coldly and suddenly stood up, his oppressive presence descending like a mountain. With a sweep of his long arm, he grabbed Giselle's waist and pulled her entire body into his embrace, the force startling.

"Giselle, playing this high-and-mighty act with me—is it fun?" He leaned down, his lips against her ear, his tone mocking. "You think I need your money? Or do you think that once we're even, you can throw yourself into someone else's arms with a clear conscience?"

"I'm not." Giselle struggled, her face flushing red.

Valentin didn't give her another chance to speak. He half-forced her out of the private room with his arm around her.

Andrew, standing guard at the door, shrank back when he saw them, keeping his eyes down, not daring to breathe too loudly.

The black Bentley sped through the night. The car was deathly silent.

Giselle huddled in the corner by the window, watching the neon lights fly past backward, her mind in chaos.

Valentin's earlier words—"I'm interested in you"—struck like a heavy blow, leaving her unsettled.

The car finally stopped in front of that old apartment building.

Giselle pushed open the door to escape. But Valentin got out first, his long legs carrying him to follow her at a measured distance.

"Mr. Dobbins, we're here. You can go back now." Giselle stood at the entrance to the stairwell, turning to block him, her tone stiff.

"I'll see you to your door." Valentin's expression was indifferent, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses somewhat inscrutable in the dim light.

Giselle bit her lip, turned, and climbed the stairs in her heels.

The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell flickered on and off. The man's footsteps were steady and powerful, each one seeming to step on her heart.

At her door, Giselle quickly pulled out her key, her back to him. "Mr. Dobbins, this is far enough. Have a safe trip."

"Giselle, think about what I said at the restaurant again." Valentin didn't leave. Instead, he stepped closer, trapping her between the door and his chest.

"No need to think about it. We're not right for each other." Giselle kept her head down, staring hard at her shoe tips, her voice trembling slightly. "You're a high-and-mighty CEO, I'm just an ordinary person struggling to make ends meet. What happened with Stella already showed me—I can't play the games in your circle."

"I told you, I've dealt with those problems." Valentin reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her to look up.

The hallway light was dim and yellow. Valentin's features were deep and captivating. He stared into her panic-filled eyes, lowering his voice with a hint of temptation and danger.

"Giselle, look into my eyes. Do you dare say you don't have any feelings for me at all?"