Molly longed for sincerity, but Ocelotte’s sincerity could only be given once.

He had made it abundantly clear—they were now in a mutually consensual relationship. If she couldn’t handle it, she had to leave immediately.

But Molly couldn’t bear to leave.

This conversation, however, was a rare opportunity. She didn’t want to let it slip away, so she turned her head and focused on Ocelotte. “Then, is there anything else you want?”

The gray Cullinan cruised through the night, its body repeatedly leaving streetlights behind. Amid this repetitive rhythm, Ocelotte’s voice slowly broke the silence. “I’ve already said, there won’t be anything between us except sleeping together.”

“I know.” Molly’s voice was soft, almost inaudible.

After that, she turned her face to the side, gazing at the night scenery outside the car window. The car was quiet; neither of them spoke again, but an undercurrent of subtle tension lingered in the air.

When the car slowed to a stop at the red li