Chapter 13

The next day, Brinley had just finished her work when Austin's call lit up her phone.

"Are you free tonight? Let mne take you somewhere to relax."

A moment passed before Brinley nodded with a tender murmur. "Alright."

By eight o'clock, Austin's sleek car rolled to a stop outside a renowned, upscale revolving restaurant in Bleron.

When he stepped out and opened the door for her,the night breeze lifted strands of her hair and carried a sharp hint of citrus that brushed against his senses.

Inside the elevator, as the city lights blurred below them, Brinley tilted her head toward him. "What made you suddenly want to take me out?"

Austin turned, his eyes steady and unreadable. "You're my wife," he replied with quiet gravity."It's only right that I treat you to dinner."

Her lips curved into a light laugh. "You really do have the sweetest way with words, Mr. Moore."

Over dinner, conversation flowed easily between them -from the grind of daily work to her long-held dream of pursuing design at university.

What startled her most was how deeply Austin seemed to know her past-right down to the obscure award she had once received at a design exhibition.

"You really do... know a great deal about me," she murmured, setting her knife and fork aside, her gaze steady yet questioning.

Austin tilted the bottle, pouring her a measure of red wine, the candlelight dancing in the depths of his mesmerizing eyes.

"It isn't hard to learn about someone," he replied,offering no further explanation. Lifting his glass, he beamed, "Cheers."

Their glasses touched with a soft chime.

The velvet wine coated her tongue,rich and lingering.She lowered her eyes, concealing the faint swell of emotion in her chest.

Kindness without motive was something she had never expected from anyone outside her family. So when Austin showed her gentleness, she couldn't help but question what he truly wanted. When the meal ended, Austin drove her back to Hillcrest Villa, his presence steady beside her as the night closed around them.

As they pulled up, his phone buzzed-his assistant's name flashing on the screen.

Austin slipped out of the car, circling around to open Brinley's door with practiced ease. "There's an urgent problem at the company. Head upstairs and get some rest," he told her gently.

She gave a light acknowledgment before walking back into the villa alone.

While moving through the quiet corridor, her gaze caught on the study door.

Memories of dinner-of how Austin had known intimate details about her past-flashed across her mind, stirring a restless curiosity that pushed her closer.

The handle turned easily. The door yielded without resistance.

The moment she stepped inside, a subtle blend of cedarwood and lingering ink filled her senses.

Walnut shelves lined the walls, packed tight with volumes of every size. Brinley drifted through the room, her hand trailing over the spines until, at the far corner, her fingers brushed against a board that felt strangely out of place.

A flutter rushed through her chest. After a moment of hesitation, Brinley pressed down gently.

A sharp click echoed in the quiet room.

Instead of ledgers or company secrets, a hidden compartment revealed a single scroll, carefully wrapped in protective paper.

Drawn by curiosity, she unfolded it-and her eyes flew wide in shock.

It was her own early sketches from the national design newcomers' competition, the work she had submitted back in her sophomore year.

The memory of this set of drafts was etched sharply in her mind.

On the night of the exhibition, a sudden blaze had devoured her booth, reducing every original sketch to ash. She even lost the USB that contained her copy.

She had resigned herself to believing her work was gone forever,yet here-tucked away in Austin's study -the designs had reappeared like a ghost from her past.

The pages were tinged a soft yellow at the edges,but they remained astonishingly well-preserved.

"What are you doing here?" A voice, cool and unhurried,broke the silence from the doorway.

Brinley's fingers jolted, nearly letting the fragile pages slip.

She turned in alarm to find Austin leaning casually against the doorframe, somehow back.

His jacket had vanished, leaving him in a crisp white shirt, the cufflinks undone so his forearms flexed with lean muscle.

In the glow of the study's warm light, the faint scar on his wrist gleamed pink, catching her eye.

His appearance nearly gave Brinley a heart attack-how did a man that tall move without making a sound?

"Mr. Moore?" Brinley jerked in surprise, hastily tucking the sketches behind her back, her pulse quickening."Didn't you say you were heading to the company?"

Austin arched a brow as he stepped into the room,his movements silent, as though he drifted rather than walked. "I left a file behind." His eyes slid toward her hidden hand, and a faintly amused curve touched his lips "Enjoying yourself in my study?"

Heat crept across Brinley's cheeks, unease pricking her before she stiffened her spine. "I was only looking around," she countered quickly.

Drawing the sketches out with deliberate defiance, she lifted her chin. "But hiding my sketches-don't you think that crosses into invading my privacy?"

Austin's gaze lowered to the papers. His expression remained steady, unbothered, as if she'd been holding nothing more than a stack of invoices.

"I found them by chance." His voice was calm,detached, almost lazy. "They had a certain spark.Thought they might tie in with a project at Moore Group."

"Oh?" Brinley's eyes narrowed, a faint edge sharpening her tone. "Since when do you pay attention to university students' designs?"

"Anything with potential tends to draw my attention,"Austin replied smoothly, his voice low as he reached for the sketches. His fingers deliberately grazed against hers.

The accidental touch made her flinch as though she'd brushed a flame. His quiet laugh followed. "What's wrong? Something bothering you?"

Brinley tightened her grip, rolling the sketches and pressing them firmly against his chest. Her chin tilted upward in defiance. "Well, it feels like more than coincidence that the designs you admire happen to belong to me."

His gaze dropped to her hand against him, his Adam's apple bobbing once before he suddenly closed the distance.

She stumbled back until the edge of the desk stopped her retreat, trapping her between its hard corner and his tall frame.

The air shifted-cedar and clean linen wrapped around her senses. From this closeness, she could even trace the faint shadows his lashes etched across his cheek.

"It does feel like quite the coincidence." Austin's tone dropped lower, weighted with an almost suffocating force. "Tell me, Brinley-are you doubting me?"