Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 146

| didn’t expect Hogan to come looking for me. Just a while ago, he was all about heading back to have a long chit-chat on the phone with Cecilia. Did that wrap up already?

My mind was preoccupied with the guest list issue, so | asked with a meek tone, “Do you need something, Mr. Zade?” Hogan gave me a sidelong glance and said, “What, am | not even allowed in the room now?”

Truth be told, | hadn’t planned to invite Hogan in, but after he mentioned it, | felt it'd be kinda rude to leave him hanging on the doorstep.

So we both ended up walking into the suite, one after the other. | made the excuse of getting some water, but | could feel his eyes roaming all over me, sending my stomach into somersaults.

The next thing | heard was Hogan, with that nonchalant tone of his, saying, “Weren’t you nursing an injured ankle? You seem to handle these hilly paths quite effortlessly.”

My hand paused while pouring the tea, and after an indifferent glance at Hogan, | responded, “Your invitation was generous; how could | refuse?”

“Is that so?” Hogan snorted coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “I’m afraid Ms. March's tirelessness might have an ulterior motive?”

My heart skipped a beat. Curiously looking at Hogan, | noticed a slight smirk on his face, but his eyes were frosty cold. Had he 13:29

*Chapter 146

figured out what | was up to?

“Huh, as if one Darren wasn’t enough, now there’s a Timothy in the picture.” He continued mockingly, “Xaviera March, you really do surprise me.”

Hogan used my full name again. Even he probably didn’t realize that at moments like these, his sharp features seemed to be covered in a layer of frost.

He was not pleased. But why should he be annoyed?

“What I’m really curious about is whether Timothy had agreed to invest or not,” Hogan, seeing that | was silent, prodded further. Hogan’s words were always packed tight, especially after a few drinks. And every sentence seemed to stab right at the heart. To invest. | slowly digested it, finally grasping the insinuation — that my getting close to Timothy was also calculating.

So, in Hogan’s eyes, that was who | was. A flare of controlled anger rushed in with his few words. | forced a smile, feigning composure, “You've given me a good proposition, Mr. Zade; I'll give it some thought.”

At that, his brows twitched slightly, furrowing together. The displeasure on his face was now unmistakable.

Pretending not to notice, | handed him the glass of water, “You’ve spoken quite a bit, Mr. Zade, thirsty?”

Before | could finish my sentence, | felt a sudden tight grip on my wrist, and my body involuntarily fell into his embrace. Hogan had pulled me into his arms. Because of the sudden loss of

balance, | ended up seated right between his legs.

The strong scent of alcohol mixed with his unique soapy fragrance invaded my senses. | turned my face, trying to get up, but Hogan’s grip on my waist was unyielding.

Our breaths intermingled, his gaze fixated on me, intense like a predator that had just found its prey in a desolate snowy landscape — so fervent it was almost unbearable to look at directly.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

The heat rose to my cheeks bit by bit, his breath getting closer, and | took a deep breath, awkwardly turning away. | wouldn’t forget that this man named Hogan, in his eyes and heart,

it was all about that woman named Cecilia.

As he was rejected, his face turned ashen; he glared at me, his breathing growing heavier, “What? That's a ‘no‘?”

Surprised, | looked at Hogan, only to hear him add, “Aren’t you quite the daredevil, Ms. March? If that’s the case, what's with this act?”

An act? Daredevil? So what exactly did Hogan think of me? A convenient outlet for when he needed one?