The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 59

"Say whatever you want," Lavinia muttered, her voice muffled.

"You certainly have plenty of temper when it comes to me."

He stood right in front of her, his tall frame completely blocking her from the street's view. No one could see the wine stains on her blouse, and no one could see her face.

After a moment, Lavinia looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"Dinner with some officials. Same restaurant." He gave a faint, self-deprecating smile. "By Garnett's logic, I guess I'm just a bottle boy too."

Lavinia blinked, the corners of her mouth twitching, but she couldn't quite manage a smile.

"You were right last time," she said, lowering her head. "He is a bastard. And by letting a bastard degrade me, I'm just as..."

"You aren't," Charley cut her off, his voice a low rumble. "I've been wanting to apologize to you."

She shook her head. "I know. Saul probably couldn't bear to yell at me himself, so he sent you to do it."

Charley didn't deny it.

"Where's your car?" Lavinia looked around.

"I've practically become your personal driver," he chuckled dryly.

"Well, Saul did tell you to keep an eye on me." She stuck her tongue out slightly.

Once inside the car, Lavinia sat in the passenger seat, wrapping his jacket tighter around herself.

She didn't know why, but every single time she was at her absolute lowest, his coat was the one draped over her shoulders. Every time she needed an escape from humiliation, he was the one pulling her out.

She stared out the window. "What did Saul actually say to you? Did he say I'm useless and that I always make him worry?"

"He didn't say that." Charley paused. "Saul worries about you. But he also believes that you can pave your own way."

Lavinia didn't reply. In the reflection of the glass, her eyelashes fluttered downward.

Charley glanced at her, then looked back at the road.

"The way you put him in his place just now was incredibly sharp. Why the sudden self-doubt?"

"It's a woman thing. Even when you win an argument, you still feel empty."

"That's because you won with your words, but you haven't won in reality." He paused. "You just need to beat him."

She froze, turning her head toward him.

"Beat him? He's Garnett Harper."

"So?"

She studied his profile. His jawline was sharp, his eyes deep and unreadable, his lips pressed in a firm line—a man who never wasted a single word.

She smiled sweetly. "I don't mind. If taking it out on me makes you feel even a little bit better, I'm willing to bear it."

He stayed silent for a few seconds, exhaling sharply through his nose.

"Fine. Come up for a drink."

The elevator ride was silent. Sigrid stood faithfully by his side, her eyes drifting to his tightly clenched fists.

The penthouse executive suite was leased under his name long-term.

He walked in, casually throwing his suit jacket onto the sofa. "Pour yourself something. I'm going to change."

Sigrid hummed in agreement, watching him disappear into the bedroom.

The suite was massive, and dead quiet. She looked around. A few business files were scattered across the coffee table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the media console, and the entryway rack held exclusively men's shoes.

Everything belonged to him. There wasn't a single trace of a woman in the room.

It seemed Lavinia hadn't set foot in this place once. He was entirely alone.

Sigrid walked over to the bar, pulled out two glasses, and slowly poured the drinks. The amber liquid swirled against the glass, reflecting the ambient light overhead.

In the bedroom, Garnett had changed clothes but made no move to leave.