novelraw Chapter 115 - 113: Smudged Lipstick
Chapter 115 - 113: Smudged Lipstick
Mia Grant’s hand trembled, and she nearly dropped the object she was holding.
Fortunately, the man’s hand gently wrapped around hers, helping her close her palm around it.
His lips parted from hers. He pulled back slightly, his gaze clear as he looked down at her. His eyes were like a mountain spring just thawed in early spring—crystal clear, yet still laced with a lingering chill.
Mia Grant swallowed nervously, staring up at him in a daze, unsure how to react.
The object felt heavy in her hand, a weight that sent a tremor through her heart.
It was as if in the next second, she would fall into a deep abyss, a hell from which she could never return.
But the figure before her stubbornly, tirelessly pulled her back, time and time again.
"I..."
She had never touched anything like this before; she had only ever seen one on TV.
Growing up, she had never even held a toy gun.
Her finger accidentally brushed against the trigger, and she almost cried out in shock.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She looked at him with a hint of pleading and helplessness.
She was afraid.
Kian Keller placed a kiss on her lips. Unlike the deep kiss from before, this one was a light, fleeting touch, more of a reassurance.
He took her hand, pressed it against a certain spot, and tried to teach her.
"Here. Pull this, then aim."
"Fire a few rounds. Don’t worry about missing. I’ll have Aaron bring you the bullets."
"..."
Mia Grant stared at him, dumbfounded. ’Dude, are you serious?’
’We live in a society with laws... oh, what’s the use.’ Forget she even thought that.
Kian Keller met her gaze. Though his eyes were calm and dim, they somehow gave her all the confidence she needed.
It was as if he were saying, ’Just do it. He’d hold up the sky if it fell.’
—
The elevator doors slid shut. Mia Grant kept her hand tucked inside her overcoat, not daring to take it out.
Her fingers traced the cold, textured surface of the object as her mind went blank.
Yates Donovan leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her, never wavering for an instant.
Mia Grant snapped back to reality. Sensing something, she turned her head to look.
Their eyes met. The corners of Yates Donovan’s mouth deepened into a carefree grin.
Mia Grant: "..."
Clearing her throat, she asked, "Did anyone follow you on your way here?"
"You’re their target. I’m perfectly safe."
"Then what’s this?" Mia Grant reached out and poked his trench coat. There was a finger-length tear in it, as if someone had grabbed him and he’d ripped it while breaking free.
In the hallway just now, he had been facing her, so she hadn’t seen the mark on his back.
Now that she was closer, it was hard to miss.
His shirt underneath was a light color, so a jarring sliver of white was clearly visible through the tear.
Yates Donovan pulled his coat back from her hand and said leisurely, "Got it caught in the car door when I was getting out."
"?" Mia Grant scoffed. "Your brain, you mean?"
"..." Yates Donovan chuckled and poked her on the head. "You little brat."
"I was just worried you’d get yourself killed here."
"I have to say, you’re quite popular. Everywhere you go, there’s someone ready to charge into battle for you. It’s really quite enviable."
His sarcastic tone was laced with a sourness so potent everyone in the elevator could smell it.
Only Yates Donovan himself seemed oblivious. His gaze swept over her crimson lips, and a laugh escaped his throat, tinged with an unreadable emotion. "Your lipstick is smeared."
"You’re my secretary, after all. You should be more mindful of your appearance. Otherwise, people might get the wrong idea about what I’ve done to you."
Mia Grant quickly turned to check her makeup in the reflective elevator doors.
He wasn’t lying. Her lipstick really was smeared, a faint trace of red trailing from the corner of her mouth, looking utterly suggestive.
Mia Grant felt her pockets. Her purse was in the car, and she didn’t have any tissues on her.
The next second, a shadow fell over her. The man leaned in from behind, cupping her chin with one hand and tilting her head up.
His other hand brought a tissue to her lips. "Next time, tell him to be a little more careful when he kisses you. If he bites you again, I’m the one who’s going to get angry."
Yates Donovan’s tone was playful, as if he were joking. But there was little humor in his downcast eyes.
Wiping away the lipstick revealed a small cut.
It was a bite mark.
Mia Grant hadn’t even noticed it herself.
"Hiss." The tissue grazed the cut. Mia wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but it felt like the pressure from his hand increased.
The pain made her gasp.
Yates Donovan’s eyebrow twitched. He switched to using his hand, gently brushing the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, lingering repeatedly on the cut.
The atmosphere was gradually heading in a strange direction.
Mia Grant blinked, watching as Yates Donovan lowered his head.
"Ahem, ahem." Just then, Aaron, who was standing to the side, coughed twice. Mia Grant glanced over, but her chin was immediately turned back. The shadow fell over her again, and a familiar scent drew near.
’Yates Donovan was very conscious of his appearance; he was the most narcissistic of them all.’
’Among the men she knew, besides Silas Grant who wore cologne out of courtesy, the only other one was Yates Donovan.’
’The contrast was that Silas Grant’s cologne had a cool scent, while Yates Donovan’s was warm.’
His scent was different from the impression he usually gave.
It was like a room with a roaring fireplace in winter. The firewood was stacked high, the flames dancing. The moment you stepped inside, a rich, warm air would rush over you, enveloping you completely.
It left you powerless to struggle, making you sink into it unconsciously.
"AHEM, AHEM, AHEM!!"
Suddenly, Mia Grant was jolted back to her senses and shoved Yates Donovan away.
Yates Donovan clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned to look at the culprit.
"If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Tell Keller to file for worker’s comp for you."
Aaron stared at him, his face impassive. "Mr. Donovan, I’ll have to ask you to show some respect for our boss’s fiancée."
"Tch." Yates Donovan scoffed. "Did I say anything when your monk was kissing my wife?"
"..." Aaron’s face darkened. "Watch your tone. My boss has not become a monk."
"He’s getting close," Yates Donovan retorted with a grin. "I’ll send him to meet his maker sooner or later."
"You!"
"Alright, alright." Mia Grant stepped between them. "What are you two arguing about? Are you a couple of elementary schoolers bickering? How childish can you be?"
"We have important things to do." With that, she turned to Aaron. "Do you have... you know, the bullets?"
Aaron froze, looking her up and down for a few seconds. Then, he took a box from his pocket and handed it to her, his expression as blank as if he were offering a cigarette.
It was a heavy box. Mia Grant hissed, "You’re just giving them to me like that?"
Yates Donovan frowned. "What did that Keller guy give you?"
Mia Grant blinked and pulled the big thing out of her pocket...
The next second, her hand was pushed back down.
Yates Donovan shot her a look, his eyes flicking toward the surveillance camera.
The elevator reached the basement level. Yates Donovan grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her out, and pushed her into the back seat of a car.
The car door slammed shut. He turned to Mia Grant. "Are you crazy? You’ll take anything he gives you?"
Mia Grant was at a loss. "He insisted on giving it to me. I think it’s for my own protection."
The man’s face was dark, his tone severe. It was the first time Mia Grant had ever seen this side of Yates Donovan, and she froze.
"If you want to stay alive, I’m all you need." Yates Donovan flicked her on the forehead with his finger. "Careful, little one. Get blood on your hands and you might have nightmares."