Ocelotte turned his head to look at her, his deep black eyes seeming to pierce through her.

After a long pause, he finally said in a hoarse voice, "And what about you? Why do you smoke?"

Molly whispered, "I won't do it anymore."

But Ocelotte didn’t seem to believe her—or maybe he just didn’t care. In this reunion, the only one who had truly cared all along was Molly.

Without another word, Ocelotte stepped on the accelerator.

Molly thought he would take her to a hotel, but to her surprise, he drove her to a penthouse near the company. The place was spacious, about 2100 square feet, and the decor was luxurious, every detail exuding wealth and elegance.

Molly hesitated at the door, unable to step inside. She stood at the door, and her fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag as she processed his words.

This apartment was specifically prepared for them to meet. A place away from the transient coldness of hotel suites, a space that felt more grounded, more intima