Chapter 80 Forced Arrangement

Chapter 80 Forced Arrangement

Giselle was so angry she actually laughed. "Valentin, are you crazy? This is my apartment. I don't need your charity."

"This isn't charity. It's a notification." Valentin cut her off coldly. "I don't want my… friend living in a place like this."

Giselle caught the slip and sneered. "Mr. Dobbins, when did your social circle get so undiscriminating? Please, just stop bothering me, okay? You're suffocating me."

The exhaustion and resistance in her eyes finally made Valentin stop.

He looked at her pale face and fell silent for a long time.

The room was so quiet that only the hum of the old refrigerator could be heard.

Finally, he put away his aggression, put his gold-rimmed glasses back on, and resumed that noble, aloof demeanor.

"Fine." He said in a low voice, picked up his coat from the sofa, and put it on with elegant movements. "I won't bother you tonight."

He walked to the door, hand on the knob, and turned back to look at her deeply. His gaze held something profound that Giselle couldn't read.

"Get some rest. Don't let me see you showing up at Fuller Corporation with dark circles under your eyes again."

The door clicked shut, taking away that domineering scent of cold cedar.

Giselle collapsed weakly onto the hard sofa he had scorned, looking at the empty room. Instead of the relief she had expected, she felt like something had been carved out of her, leaving an aching emptiness.

She unconsciously touched her lips, where a slight sting still lingered.

That kiss had been so domineering it was almost predatory, nearly sucking away her soul.

"Crazy. This is crazy." She muttered to herself, her eyes growing hot for no reason.

That night, Giselle slept terribly.

Her dreams were filled with Valentin's deep, almost sinister eyes. One moment it was his coldness at the accident scene, the next it was his whispers in the hallway.

When she jolted awake, the sunlight outside was already harsh.

"Oh no." Giselle glanced at the alarm clock, her face instantly turning pale.

She had stayed up too late last night and overslept.

Fuller Corporation was strict about attendance. If she, a newly confirmed assistant, was late, the consequences would be dire.

She grabbed a coat, didn't bother with makeup, and rushed toward the door in her heels.

However, when she opened the door, the scene before her left her completely frozen.

The narrow hallway was packed with men in work uniforms. Several large pieces of furniture wrapped tightly in protective covers were being carried into her apartment.

And Valentin was standing at the door in a well-tailored ash-gray suit, looking at some documents in his hand.

Hearing the noise, he lifted his eyelids slightly, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses sweeping over Giselle's messy hair before finally settling on those eyes widened in shock.

"Awake?" His voice was cool, with a hint of morning hoarseness.

"Valentin, what… what are you doing?" Giselle trembled with anger, pointing at the leather sofa that was already halfway into the apartment. "Who told you to touch my stuff?"

"I told you last night. I'm having furniture delivered." Valentin put away the documents, his expression as calm as if discussing an ordinary business deal. "I had someone dispose of that old sofa. This set is custom-made. It's good for your spine."

"I don't need it. Have them take it away right now."

"Giselle, it's 8:15 in the morning." Valentin raised his hand to check his watch, his tone unhurried. "From here to Fuller Corporation, the subway takes forty minutes. Add walking time, and you're already late."

Giselle's breath caught. Her anger was instantly half-extinguished by this reality.

"You…" She bit her teeth, her eyes rimming red.

Valentin didn't give her a chance to continue arguing. He took a long stride and grabbed her wrist, brooking no refusal.

"We'll discuss the furniture when you get back. Right now, I'm taking you to work."

"Valentin, let go—"

Giselle was half-dragged, half-pulled down the stairs.

The black Bentley was already waiting at the building entrance. The driver respectfully opened the car door.

When Giselle was stuffed into the back seat, she was still in a daze.

The car interior carried a faint woody scent, blocking out the noise outside.

Valentin followed her in and handed her an elegant meal box.

"Eat." He said briefly.

Giselle looked down to see a chicken sandwich from that hard-to-get place near the office and a hot latte. The sandwich was still warm, the heat palpable even through the packaging.

She looked at the breakfast in her hands, then at Valentin beside her, head down handling work. The resentment at being forced into this arrangement somehow mixed with a flutter of attraction that even she found shameful.

Throughout the ride, Giselle was completely managed. Valentin was like a precise clock, timing every moment.

When the car stopped at the side entrance of Fuller Corporation, it was exactly 8:55.

"Work hard. Don't overthink things." Valentin turned his head, his slender fingers tucking a strand of hair behind Giselle's ear. The gesture was naturally intimate.

Giselle instinctively wanted to dodge, but then saw him pull out a familiar set of keys from his suit pocket.

Her apartment keys.

"Give them back." Giselle's heart jumped, reaching out to grab them.

Valentin turned his wrist, closing the keys in his palm. His eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses narrowed slightly, with a hint of a playful smile showing his determination to win. "I'll pick you up after work tonight. I'll return them then."

"Valentin, you're impossible."

"Three more minutes." He pointed at the building's turnstiles.

Giselle glanced at the time, stamped her foot in frustration, could only glare at him fiercely, then turned and ran toward the company entrance.

The entrance of Fuller Corporation was bustling in the early morning.

Many employees witnessed this scene: a top-tier Bentley with sequential license plates parked by the roadside. Although they couldn't see the man's face clearly, that hand reaching out to fix Giselle's hair, and that noble, cool profile, were enough to spark countless speculations.

"Oh my god, is that Giselle? Who's that guy dropping her off? That car is amazing."

"Look at that presence. Definitely someone important. Giselle usually keeps such a low profile. Who knew her boyfriend was so impressive."

"So jealous. Being pretty really helps. Being pampered by a rich guy like that, work must just be a way to pass the time."

When Giselle swiped through the turnstile, behind her were colleagues' envious discussions.

She kept her head down, her face burning. What pampering, what good boyfriend—only she knew that man was completely crazy.

But touching the still-warm breakfast in her bag, Giselle's heartbeat, amidst all those "envious" comments, completely lost its rhythm.

Author's Note:
First of all, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement—it truly means the world to me. I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to continue updating for the time being. Due to some personal matters that require my full attention, I have no choice but to put this work on indefinite hiatus and bring this story to an end here. This wasn't an easy decision to make, and I really hate to leave you hanging, but I hope you can understand. Thanks again for reading—love you all.