Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Before he could take another step, Lyonna grabbed Darren’s arm, causing her husband to stop on the first step of the staircase.

“Wait,” she said hurriedly. “Your tie is crooked, and your suit is still wrinkled here.”

Darren did not have time to reply. Lyonna was already standing in front of him, her hand reaching up to the tie knot that had indeed been slightly loose since earlier, fixing it with quick yet meticulous movements. The distance between them was incredibly small, barely a foot, close enough for Darren to faintly catch the scent of vanilla perfume wafting from the skin of Lyonna’s neck.

Lyonna’s fingers moved nimbly as she pulled the tie knot into place, while her own breath, warm and steady, softly brushed just beneath Darren’s chin whenever she tilted her head up slightly to make sure everything looked neat. Darren unconsciously held his breath, his body tensing rigidly, while the hand that had previously hung casually at his side now clenched tightly.

Damn it, Darren cursed inwardly, his jaw tightening as he suppressed the sudden reaction that had appeared out of nowhere. Why do I keep reacting like this?

He tried to find a logical explanation for himself—perhaps because over the past two years, he had hardly ever stood this close to Lyonna. He rarely came home before midnight, rarely spoke to her alone for more than five minutes, let alone allowed the woman to touch his face like she was doing now. It felt unfamiliar. Too unfamiliar for even his own body to know how to react.

“Done,” Lyonna murmured, taking half a step back as she looked at her work with satisfaction. Her hand then rose again, this time fixing Darren’s slightly fallen bangs that covered his forehead, gently combing them back with her fingers. “Now, my husband is very handsome.”

The words came so lightly from Lyonna’s lips, accompanied by a smile that somehow felt different from the polite smiles she usually showed in front of the servants. This smile was more sincere, gentler, the corners of her eyes narrowing slightly, making something in Darren’s chest seem to freeze for a moment before beating faster than it should.

Darren did not answer. He could not answer, actually. He simply stood there, staring at Lyonna’s face so close to his, confused as to why his tongue suddenly felt tied.

“Darling, come on,” Lyonna said cheerfully, already turning around and raising her hand to link her arm with Darren’s, ready to walk downstairs to the lower floor, where the sound of the guests’ cars could already be heard stopping in the front courtyard.

However, Lyonna stopped herself. Her hand, which had been raised moments earlier, slowly lowered, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Darren with a different expression—one filled with suspicion.

“Wait,” she said softly. “Just now, when you covered me with the shawl. You said, ‘because no one else is allowed to see what should belong only to me.’ What did you mean?”

Thump.

Darren’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, enough for Lyonna to notice before he quickly hid it behind his usual expressionless face. His heart was beating strangely, his mind spinning rapidly as he searched for an explanation for the words that had slipped from his mouth earlier without him filtering them first. Why did I say something so disgusting? Darren thought, almost panicking even though his face remained as calm as usual.

“Forget it,” Darren cut in quickly, his voice once again cold and firm as before, as though those words had never been uttered at all. He turned around and walked down the stairs first, deliberately quickening his pace to avoid Lyonna’s questioning gaze that was still fixed on him. “They’ve arrived. We need to greet them immediately.”

Lyonna followed after him, the ten-centimeter-high heels she had just worn for the first time in years making her steps slightly unsteady on the slippery marble stairs. She was not accustomed to supporting her body weight at such a sharp angle, and on the third step from the bottom, the tip of her shoe caught slightly on the hem of her own long dress.

Her body lurched forward.

“Ah—!”

The small cry escaped Lyonna’s lips as she completely lost her balance, her body falling forward before she could stop herself. Darren, who was walking directly in front of her, turned around quickly, his reflexes working before his thoughts—the two hands he extended caught Lyonna’s body before she could actually crash onto the floor.

The two of them stopped in an awkward position on the final step, Lyonna held tightly in Darren’s arms, her face only a few centimeters from her husband’s. Darren’s arm wrapped firmly around Lyonna’s back, while his other hand supported the back of her head, as though the reflex had been deeply ingrained in him even though his mind had not yet had time to process what had just happened.

Both of their hearts pounded rapidly, almost echoing against each other in the brief silence. Lyonna looked up, their eyes meeting, both of their breaths coming softly and unevenly, colliding in the air that suddenly felt far too narrow for the two of them. Darren stared back, his eyes briefly dropping to Lyonna’s slightly parted lips from the shock before returning to her eyes.

Without realizing it, Darren’s head began to tilt downward, slowly, as though pulled by an irresistible force. Lyonna did not move away either; instead, her eyes slowly closed, her body frozen in Darren’s embrace, which felt far warmer than it should have.

Only a few centimeters remained between their lips.

“Darren? What are you doing?”

The voice shattered the silence like glass falling onto the marble floor, sharp and sudden. Lyonna and Darren both jolted, their heads turning quickly toward the main door, which was now wide open.

A woman stood in the doorway, wearing a tight black dress that perfectly hugged her figure, her long hair falling softly over her shoulders. She had a beautiful face with a defined jawline, but her eyes stared sharply at Darren and Lyonna, who were still awkwardly embracing each other on the final step, her eyebrows raised in unmistakable surprise and confusion.

Thump.

Darren hurriedly released his embrace, quickly straightening Lyonna’s body, but the nervous movement itself was enough to show that what had just happened was not merely an ordinary accident. His face turned cold again within a fraction of a second, the mask he always wore falling perfectly back into place, even though his heart was still pounding wildly inside his chest.

“Viona,” Darren said, his voice flat, though something seemed to catch at the end of his sentence. “You—why are you here?”