Chapter 352
Chapter 352
“Pervert p>
Chris looked at her, standing in the bathroom doorway. Everywhere her nightgown didn’t cover was flushed red, even her toes tinged pink. As if nothing had happened, he bent down, picked up the nightgown from the floor, and tossed it back into the trash.
“If you don’t want it, don’t throw it around,” he said calmly. “Are you hungry p>
Winter ignored him. She turned and walked to the sink. She lifted her right hand and sniffed it, then turned on the faucet with her left.
His voice came from behind her. “It’s already clean p>
He shouldn’t have said anything.
The moment he did, she felt like she could smell it again.
Furious, she kicked the bathroom door shut, blocking him out.
She pulled open the cabinet to her left. Without thinking, her hand went straight to the second shelf. She grabbed
a bottle of perfume and sprayed her right hand over and over until the mist turned to droplets and her skin was soaked in it.
Only then did she stop.
Suddenly, something felt off.
Her hand froze around the bottle. She stared at the cabinet, then at the perfume in her hand.
There was no production date on it. That usually meant it was not for retail sale. More like a custom blend. Something made for private use.
She liked perfume. She owned plenty.
And this scent was exactly the kind she liked.
But that was not the point.
The real question was how had she known where it was?
When she opened the cabinet just now, she hadn’t hesitated. She hadn’t searched. Her hand had gone straight to the second shelf.
It felt instinctive.
Like muscle memory.
Yesterday, when she had been sitting in the living room, she had also reached out without thinking and pulled a magazine from the side pocket of the sofa.
That could be explained. The sofa at her own place had a similar pocket. That habit made sense.
But this?
Her grip on the perfume bottle tightened slightly, her hand beginning to tremble.
She set it down, took a few steps, and pulled open a drawer.
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+25 Bonus
Inside was the opened pack of pads.
She picked it up and flipped it over until she found the production date.
Not recent.
But not that old either.
A year and a half.
Winter frowned, holding the pack in her hand.
It was the exact same brand she always used.
The perfume in the cabinet matched her taste.
A hollow feeling suddenly opened up inside her, as if she were about to fall into something bottomless with nothing to hold on to.
She walked to the bathroom window and looked out.
The island sat alone in the middle of the ocean.
Where was this sense of familiarity coming from?
That evening, Winter sat across from Chris at the dining table.
“Can we leave tomorrow?” she asked.
His hand tightened slightly around his fork. He looked up at her. The eagerness in her eyes to leave was impossible to miss.
He gave a low response. “You’re that eager to go p>
She kept drinking her soup and said nothing.
At night, the island was unnaturally quiet. The staff had already stepped away, leaving just the two of them in the dining room.
After a while, she spoke again.
“You said yesterday that if I won, I’d get a reward. Does that still stand p>
“It does,” he said, watching her. “What do you want p>
She met his gaze, eyes as deep as the sea. She pressed her lips together briefly before speaking.
“I want to drink with you p>
His expression shifted slightly.
Before he could respond, she added, her tone cool and sharp,
“Not just drinking. I want to play truth or dare. With real answers p>
She held his gaze.
“Do you dare p>
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.