Clara settled into the passenger seat.Stanley said nothing. He sat straight behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.People often said a man looked most attractive when he was focused on something. For an ordinary man, that might have been true. For a man who already looked like Stanley, it felt almost unfair.His features were sharp and refined, every angle cleanly defined. From where she sat, his profile looked carved from stone. Both hands rested on the wheel, long-fingered and steady. His calm gaze remained forward, and when he glanced at the right mirror, she caught the full shape of his expression. He looked composed, unhurried, and completely at ease.That was when her heart started beating the fastest.She told herself to say something. He was helping her and her family. The least she could do was keep a conversation going. But every time she tried to speak, the words refused to come.She tried approaching it from another angle. If she only talked about Chambe
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