Chapter 849:
Dylan stopped mid-step, his cool, detached gaze falling squarely on Ralphy. “None of those brilliant tips you’ve shared worked.”
Ralphy went silent, awkwardly pursing his lips.
When Dylan resumed walking, Ralphy scurried along beside him. “Okay, okay. Then how about going big? A surprise proposal! Diamond ring, roses—the whole package!”
Hearing this awful idea, Dylan felt a faint throbbing in his temples. “If you manage to pull that off with Davina, I’ll give you a—”
Ralphy recoiled immediately. “Not a chance! She’d run for the hills!”
“So you do know it’s ridiculous?” Dylan gave Ralphy a cold stare. Pushing him into something he wouldn’t attempt? What a “good” pal he had.
Ralphy laughed dryly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m all out of bright ideas. Maybe try cooking for Miss Jones again. She really seems to like your food.”
Dylan paused, his brow creasing just the slightest bit. The thought had crossed his mind before. But no matter how much effort he put in, Christina’s heart remained unmoved. A quiet frustration settled over him.
Dylan sighed. “When someone else has her heart, no amount of effort seems enough.”
Ralphy’s face changed. He had never seen Dylan so disheartened. It rattled him. “That’s not true!” he said quickly. “She just needs time. One day, she’ll get her head on straight. And when she does, if you’re still standing right there, you’ll be the first one she sees.”
Dylan didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, staring into the distance. After a while, he murmured, “You’re right.”
He acknowledged that Ralphy had a point. If he stood by Christina, unwavering, then the day she turned around, he would be the first one she saw. The thought lit up his face. His lips curled into the faintest smile. The gloom hanging over him lifted, and even the air around him felt lighter—sweeter somehow.
𝘽𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝖌ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀．𝖼𝗈𝗺
That night, Christina lay in bed, a cooling facial mask pressed to her face, when her phone buzzed with a video call. Seeing Davina’s name flash across the screen, she answered without a second thought.
Earlier, Davina had invited Christina out to a friend’s gathering, but Christina had opted for a quiet night in.
Christina was just about to speak when the screen connected—then her eyes widened, and she shot upright in alarm.
On the screen, Davina sat strapped to a solid wooden chair, her mouth sealed with black duct tape.
The video was shaky, and in the background, Christina caught the sound of someone’s mocking laughter and Davina’s muffled struggling.
“Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this to her?” Christina’s expression turned glacial, her aura shifting in an instant. Her eyes burned with lethal fury. Whoever these people were, they were playing with fire.
The next second, the camera shifted—and there it was. That smug, twisted smile. It was Balfour! The man who was Moss’s son and had lost his sexual function due to Christina’s forceful blows and kicks.
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