Game Over, Mr. CEO: Your Wife Is Done (Winter and Chris) novel Chapter 338

Chapter 338

Winter turned to look out at the ocean, clearly not interested in responding.

Chris watched her stubborn profile for a second. Then he suddenly spread his legs slightly, pulled her back into his arms, and grabbed both her hands, forcing them onto the wheel.

“Chris, what are you doing?”

Before she could react, the yacht surged forward at a speed she had never experienced before.

The sudden acceleration threw her backward. She fell straight into his lap.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist to steady her. His low, magnetic voice brushed against her ear. “Hold on tight. Or we’re both going overboard.”

But Winter had no idea how to control a yacht. She didn’t know how to steer, and she definitely didn’t know how it had suddenly picked up so much speed.

There was no doubt he was the one behind it.

She didn’t believe for a second that he was reckless enough to risk his own life.

Thinking that, she tried to pull free from his hold.

What she did not expect was that he let go of the wheel.

The yacht kept accelerating.

The roar of the water and the sharp rush of wind tore apart the word “psycho” before it could fully leave her mouth.

She grabbed the wheel again instinctively.

Through the wind and crashing waves, she heard him let out a low laugh.

His gaze was fixed on her, on the way she gripped the wheel with a serious expression. Something stirred in his eyes. His lips brushed lightly against the strands of her hair that the wind had blown loose.

She felt his warm breath near her and instinctively leaned away.

But the arm around her waist tightened, refusing to let her go.

“What are you doing?” She rushed over and grabbed his hand, checking it carefully. “Are you hurt?”

She grabbed a few tissues and wiped away the wine. His fingers were rough with calluses, but there were no cuts.

Relief flickered across her face.

“Can’t you just talk things through?” she said, unable to hide the irritation in her voice.

The man pulled his hand away, his expression cold. “You dragged me out here for this? You know it’s not easy for me to show up. Don’t call me for things like this again.”

“For this?” Her voice sharpened. “He’s my son. He’s sitting in detention right now, and you expect me to do nothing? I’m getting him out.”

The man picked up another glass and poured himself some wine, his tone flat and merciless.

“Do you even know what he’s done? And you still expect me to help you?”

He took a sip, then added coldly, “He’s lucky I didn’t break his arm myself.”