Chapter 55
55:
Dylan, usually so logical and quick-witted, found his mind going strangely blank as he listened to Christina. For a stretch of awkward silence, he said nothing at all.
Christina almost started to think he might refuse to help, but then his voice finally broke the tension. “Of course. Which house do you want?”
Relief fluttered through her chest, and a sly little smile touched her lips. She cranked up the sugar in her voice. “So you mean I get to pick any house I want?”
“Yeah. Go ahead—pick whatever catches your eye,” Dylan answered smoothly.
A teasing melody wove through her words over the line. “Hmm… Do you happen to have a house by the bay? I’d like to move in tonight.”
“I do,” Dylan replied without missing a beat. “But there’s also the one at Cloudcrest Heights. Why not stay there instead? It’s got better views. Honestly, I think it’d suit you more.”
Christina gave a light, playful laugh, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh, sweetheart, you really spoil me. But the bay mansion’s perfect for now. We’ll save the one in Cloudcrest Heights for after the wedding—our future love nest, okay?”
Bayfront mansions started at fifty million, while the mansions in Cloudcrest Heights boasting panoramic ocean views easily soared past a hundred million.
Christina knew just flashing a deed to a bayfront mansion would be enough to make Brendon eat his heart out—she didn’t even have to bring up the ultra-exclusive estate on Cloudcrest Heights, at least not yet.
As soon as “Cloudcrest Heights” rolled off her tongue, everyone around her sucked in a sharp breath, their eyes wide with disbelief before skepticism hardened their faces.
Estates on Cloudcrest Heights weren’t simply expensive—they were legendary, rarely traded, and off-limits to all but the most powerful. It wasn’t about money alone. One needed influence that stretched behind closed doors. Even the Hubbard family—top of Dorfield’s social food chain—barely managed to snag a single property, and that was on the lowest rung of the mountain. The closer one got to the summit, the more unimaginable the owner’s clout.
The group exchanged looks. Was Christina somehow tied to the Hubbard family? No way in hell! There was no way a family as distinguished as the Hubbard family would give a second glance to a divorced woman—let alone let her through their doors.
G3t th3 r34l st0r¥ @ g4ln0v3ls.c0m
“Alright.” Dylan’s low hum rumbled through the phone, smug and satisfied.
“Thanks, darling! Can you send someone with the key and maybe help me move my things?” Christina cooed, pouring on the sweetness.
“No problem,” Dylan replied, his smile so broad that it threatened to split his face.
Christina’s voice oozed syrupy affection as she purred, “Hurry up, okay, darling? I’m hanging up now—mwah, mwah! Love you!” With one last exaggerated air kiss, she ended the call.
Even after the line went dead, Dylan sat there, dazed and grinning like a fool. Her honeyed words kept echoing in his mind, replaying over and over, the smile on his face stretching impossibly wider. He was still drifting in that warm, ridiculous afterglow when the door flew open and a voice cut through his daydream like a splash of cold water.
“Dylan!” Chloe’s piercing call cut through his thoughts and anchored him to reality.
He blinked, immediately smothering the stupid grin, though his cheeks still ached from holding it so long. Twisting his brow into a frown, he shot her a look of mild reproach. “You didn’t knock,” he said, his voice clipped and cool—though there was a lingering softness that betrayed his mood.
Chloe huffed and crossed her arms, lips jutting into a pout. “I did knock! You just didn’t hear me. I walked right in and you were completely zoned out!”
Then, remembering the way he’d been beaming like an idiot, she couldn’t help but ask, “Alright, spill. What happened? Why were you grinning like a total idiot just now? Something pleasant?”
She couldn’t help herself—she’d never seen her stoic brother look so hopelessly happy.
“Yeah,” Dylan responded with a noncommittal hum as he slipped on his suit jacket and headed for the door.
Chloe trailed after him, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What’s got you so happy? Spill it—don’t leave your dear sister in suspense!”
“Just wrapped up a big deal,” Dylan answered briskly before grabbing his keys.
With a dismissive wave, he went straight for the door and stated firmly, stepping out. “You stay here and be good.”
“Dylan!” she called, picking up her pace to keep up with him. “Come on, what kind of deal?”
She eyed him skeptically. No ordinary business win could have sparked that ridiculous smile—she was sure of it. Even the biggest contracts never made him look so goofy.
He had never beamed like a fool before. Clearly, he was hiding something. But no matter how she probed, the answer eluded her.
“Quit stressing about my matters,” Dylan remarked, slipping into his usual big-brother mode. “Just worry about getting better—I’ll handle everything else.”
Chloe could see he wasn’t going to budge. Once he clammed up, not even wild horses could drag the truth out of him. She watched him retreat down the hall, letting out a soft, frustrated sigh. “If only Christina were around,” she grumbled to herself, “She’d have the secret out of him in no time.”
Chloe hadn’t known Christina for long, but something told her that woman could charm the truth out of anyone—even her stone-faced brother.
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