Chapter 1193:
Dylan looked back on everything with new eyes, now certain he was being guided by fate.
He had never really thought much of fate. He always believed he had to make everything happen on his own.
But now, he believed some things really were meant to be. Fate had a funny way of working—deciding who would stay or leave, and whom one was meant to cross paths with.
All he had to do now was move in the direction destiny was pointing him.
Christina felt that same flutter in her chest, that sense of inevitability she couldn’t quite shake.
“I can’t help it—I feel like all of this was meant to be, like fate’s been steering us here all along.”
She tilted her head, smiling as her gaze met Dylan’s steady, captivating eyes.
“I feel the same,” Dylan said, gripping her hand tighter. “Like we’re destined to spend the rest of our lives together, even sharing the same tomb.”
Christina laughed lightly, teasing, “Who’d want to be sharing the same tomb?”
“You, with me,” Dylan replied without missing a beat, his tone quiet but firm. “You have to promise me that.”
Christina glanced down at the plate. “Let’s eat before the spaghetti goes cold.”
“Promise me,” Dylan pressed, refusing to let go. He needed to hear it.
“Fine,” Christina said, cheeks warming with a shy smile.
Dylan’s eyes narrowed, not letting her off so easily. “What do you mean by ‘fine’?”
She sighed, but her smile lingered. “It means ‘I promise you,’ okay?”
That was enough for him. Relief washed over Dylan’s face as he finally let out a smile.
“Chrissie, you’ve never broken your word. I trust you.”
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣? 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙩 𝖌ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀．𝖼𝗈𝗺
Christina was someone who stood by her promises, and knowing she’d spoken those words eased the unease in his chest.
“Then,” Christina said, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him, “I want to enjoy your cooking for the rest of my life.”
“My pleasure,” Dylan answered without hesitation.
If winning her heart meant cooking for her forever, he’d be glad to spend his life in the kitchen.
Even so, a sliver of unease lingered. Christina was the kind of woman who turned heads wherever she went.
He couldn’t let any other man even sniff the chance of taking her away.
For now, though, all that existed was the two of them with their spaghetti, trading glances and breaking into bursts of laughter—lost in their own joy.
At the villa, Joselyn swept into the living room, her face dark as thunder. Her sharp gaze immediately landed on Yolanda.
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