The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 145

She opened her mouth, intending to say something.

But the moment she tried, it was as if an invisible force suffocated her words.

She wanted to speak, but only broken sobs and hot tears spilled out.

"Uncle Alistair..." Finally, as if her last shred of reason had snapped, she took a few more steps toward him and opened her arms. "Hold me..."

His response was a solid, reassuring embrace.

Alistair pulled her into his arms.

It was a warm hold, smelling faintly of cedarwood.

One hand moved up to stroke her back, while the other rested firmly on her waist.

Her waist was so slender and soft, it felt as though he could span it with a single hand.

He listened to her uninhibited, heartbroken weeping.

As if unleashing years of pent-up agony, she threw her arms around his neck and cried uncontrollably.

Her tears slid down her cheeks, dropping onto his collar and sinking deep into the fabric.

Alistair didn't say a word. He just gently patted her back, soothing her like a distressed child.

Her silken hair slipped through his fingers.

It was soft, smooth, cascading like a waterfall of floral scent.

A strange, tickling sensation brushed against his palm, barely scratching the surface of something deeper.

She cried hard, her body shuddering with every gasp, burying her face into his shoulder as if she had finally found a safe haven.

Through broken, muffled sobs, she pieced together the story of her past.

"Talbot said... he said I just got bumped into by accident. He said... he said it was no big deal..."

"He told me not to make a fuss..."

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