𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

19.

And yet, amidst the heat, there's a softness-a vulnerability neither of us will admit to. It makes my heart thud painfully in my chest because I know this is more than just a game, more than fleeting moments of play.

Before I can dwell on that thought, Wilde pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us breathless. His thumb brushes gently against my cheek, almost tenderly, though his dark eyes still burn with that untamed fire.

"What?" I ask, still breathless, the lingering heat between us making me crave more. Why did he stop? Just when I was starting to let my guard down, he pulls away. Just when I was about to chip away at his defenses, he withdraws. I could feel him melting into me, for me.

Without a word, he tilts his head toward the window, and it's only then that I realize we've arrived at the school gates. Embarrassment flares, a blush creeping up my face. How could I have gotten so distracted?

This man... he's dangerous. Dangerously attractive.

Wilde's hand moves with an effortless grace as he fixes a few loose strands of my hair, his fingers brushing against my scalp in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. His touch is light, almost absentminded, but the faint smile on his lips tells me he knows exactly what he's doing. He adjusts the collar of my jacket with the same deliberate care, his eyes momentarily softening as if he's caught in some private thought. For a fleeting moment, I almost forget the man he is-the dangerous, calculated one who could unravel everything in an instant.

And then, without a word, he scoops me up as if I weigh nothing, cradling me in his arms in that infuriating princess-style hold. His strength is casual, effortless, and I can't help but wonder if this is part of his control game-keeping me physically dependent on him as much as emotionally entangled. His chest is firm beneath me, his heartbeat steady against my side, and for just a second, I lose myself in the strange comfort of it all.

"Are you planning to carry me everywhere from now on?" I ask, my voice laced with mock teasing, though I can't bring myself to meet his gaze. The warmth radiating off him, combined with the intensity of his presence, is overwhelming, and I'm not ready to face that head-on. Instead, I focus on the polished marble floors of the hall, glancing at the reflections of the students and staff who have paused to watch us pass. Their curious eyes linger, but not with the shock they once held. We've become a spectacle, an everyday occurrence, and the realization makes my stomach churn. "You know I was just playing around when I asked you to carry me around everywhere yesterday, right?"

Wilde says nothing at first, but his silence speaks louder than words. I feel him go still for a brief moment, his body freezing with that unnerving control he has over himself. His grip on me remains steady, but there's something in his pause that makes the air around us thicken. Then, just as quickly, he resumes walking through the busy halls, his steps unhurried and confident. He moves with a purpose, as if the world bends to his will, and in a way, it does. His presence commands attention, whether wanted or not.

As we pass by groups of students, I can't help but feel the weight of their stares on us. Some whisper among themselves, no doubt concocting wild stories about who we are and what we mean to each other. Others avert their gaze, already accustomed to seeing Wilde and me together. It's strange, how quickly the school has accepted this odd dynamic between us, as if we're just another part of their daily routine. A fleeting thought crosses my mind-how easy it would be to stay like this forever, wrapped in Wilde's strength, shielded from the world's harsh realities. But I push the thought away as quickly as it comes. I can't afford to indulge in such fantasies. Not when the stakes are so high.

I shift slightly in his arms, leaning into my role, adopting the persona that keeps me safe in this twisted game we're playing. "Baby," I say, drawing out the word with exaggerated sweetness. Wilde's eyes snap to mine instantly, dark and intense, as if the word alone has struck a nerve.

Ignoring the storm brewing in his eyes, I continue with a coquettish tone, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You won't believe what happened yesterday," I say, my voice dripping with mock disbelief. His jaw tightens, and I can almost feel the weight of his gaze, drilling into me, analyzing my every move. He's overreacting, but I suppose that's his style. Isn't he the one who orchestrated my rejection from Jin Corporation? "I applied to Jin Corporation, but they had the audacity to reject me." I let out a dramatic scoff, flipping my hair for effect. "Can you believe that? Me, rejected?"

Wilde's expression shifts ever so slightly, the sharpness in his gaze softening as he hums in acknowledgment. The sound is low, almost dismissive, but there's something beneath it-a flicker of emotion I can't quite place. He carefully places me in my seat beside him, his movements slow and deliberate, as if handling something fragile. It's unsettling, the way he treats me like some delicate doll, especially when I know he sees me as anything but.

That was strange. What's going on with him today? It's almost as if he expected me to say something else, to play along in a different way. His reactions are off, and I can't shake the feeling that something deeper is at play here. I'll need to check with Assistant Uno later, see if he's picked up on Wilde's unusual behavior.

"Aren't you going to say something?" I ask, batting my lashes at him with a practiced pout, adopting the aggrieved look that the original Faye would have worn in this situation. "Or do you think I deserved the rejection?" I already know the answer, of course. The original Faye, in all her arrogance and carelessness, was the type of person no company would want to hire. But I'm not her. Not anymore. But he doesn't know that. Which makes me even more curious about his answer.

"No," Wilde replies curtly, his voice flat, offering nothing more. His expression gives nothing away, a perfect mask of indifference.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. If my mission didn't revolve around this man, I'd smack him for these dry, one-word answers. Does he plan to spend the rest of his life responding like this? How does he think he's going to get through a marriage-if he ever manages to find someone patient enough to put up with him, that is-with replies like that?

"Then, if you had a company, would you hire me?" I ask, the question innocent on the surface, but the humor bubbling inside me makes it hard to keep a straight face. I know full well that he does have a company-a secret one, working on world-ending zombie viruses. And whether he likes it or not, I'm getting into that company, with or without his permission.

Wilde's eyes flick to mine, his expression unreadable as he studies me. The air between us feels heavy again, but this time it's different. There's something in the way he's looking at me that makes my heart race, but not from fear or attraction. It's something else, something darker, something I need to be careful of.

For now, though, I keep my smile firmly in place, playing my part.