Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime

…He let her go just like that?

No interrogation, no entanglement, not even a glance.

This was out of character for Alexander Summers!

Deep in thought, Purple wondered, was this his own way of dialing back before pouncing? Using silence to increase her fear and pressure?

Oh, please, with his temper could he really understand such subtlety?

Purple dismissed the idea.

She sat at her desk and flipped through textbooks then lay on her bed to play with her phone, feeling restless and uneasy.

The feeling was torturous.

Whether alive or dead, at least give me a quick end!

Her heart itched as if being scratched by a cat, so uncomfortable she couldn’t bear it, tossing and turning in bed until, amid her knotted thoughts, she fell asleep.

When she woke up again, it was already three in the afternoon, the setting sun casting a hazy golden light over the room’s furnishings.

Purple opened her eyes and sat blankly on the bed for a while before remembering Alexander again.

—What exactly is he going to do to me?

She couldn’t take it anymore; she had to find out.

Purple got out of bed, put on her slippers, and with mixed feelings approached Alexander’s room.

She listened at the door first, but there was no sound inside.

Could he have already left?

This was very likely; Alexander often left without saying a word, and when he did, he wouldn’t return for days.

Purple grabbed the doorknob, turned it tentatively, found the door unlocked, and opened it…

The room was pitch black, eerily silent, with only the crisp scent of cigarettes permeating the air.

Caught off guard, Purple started coughing from the smoke.

With her lungs aching, she covered her nose and mouth, walked into the room, drew back half of the curtains, and opened a window to let in fresh air. Then, turning around, her heart skipped a beat—

Alexander was sitting at the boundary of light and shadow, his face half in sunlight, half drowned in darkness, eyebrows stretching into his temples, lips slightly pursed, a cold glint flickering in his eyes like a sinister specter, devastatingly handsome and otherworldly.

Purple’s heartbeat quickened, pounding against her chest.

She shifted her gaze uncomfortably, wondering if she had blushed…

“How many cigarettes did you smoke?” Purple whispered. “Stop smoking, it’s bad for your health.”

Alexander looked at her with a cold gaze, his expression somewhat sinister.

“Do you care about my health?” he asked.

Purple frowned and asked, “What exactly is wrong? Is it because I had dinner with them? The case was solved today, so prosecutor Allen Rivera treated us to a meal, there really wasn’t anything…”

Alexander remained silent, staring at Purple, his eyes clouding with layers of icy frost, sending shivers down her spine.

She felt she was clearly in the right, yet facing Alexander, she felt inexplicably guilty, afraid, and nervous.

Biting her lower lip and after hesitating for a moment, Purple added, “Next time… I won’t have dinner alone with a man again.”

It was cowardly, and undignified.

But Purple thought the most pressing matter was to appease Alexander since if he really lost his temper, the consequences would be unpredictable…

“Purple, you blushed having dinner with Allen Rivera, what for?” Alexander said coldly, staring at her. “Do you like him?”

Purple was shocked into stillness.

She… she blushed? When did that happen?

Alexander continued, “He just gave you a shrimp, and you smiled so happily, why?”

“He, he, he, he also served Marcel Jefferson, didn’t he!” Purple stammered in embarrassment and panic, “Besides, when eating together, of course, I had to smile, I can’t just cry, can I?”

“Then why did you blush!” Alexander suddenly barked, his expression ferocious.

He was very upset about this!

Purple felt wronged and defended herself, “How would I know why I blushed? Maybe… maybe it was the alcohol, that’s why!”