Chapter 144

Sean POV

I grabbed Angela's wrist, pulling her toward the elevator with unwavering determination.

Behind us, Thomas called out in confusion, "Mr. Shaw, aren't we having lunch anymore?"

I ignored him, focused only on keeping my grip on Angela as I urged her to move faster.

I could feel her resistance, the subtle tension in her arm as she tried to pull away, but it only strengthened my resolve.

"Let go of me!" she demanded, her voice sharp with indignation as we descended in the elevator.

"No," I replied simply, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Outside the restaurant, I maneuvered her swiftly toward my waiting Bentley, Peter already standing at attention by the open door. I practically lifted her into the backseat, sliding in beside her before she could escape.

"Drive," I instructed Peter, maintaining my grip on Angela's wrist.

She continued struggling, her eyes flashing with genuine anger. "You need to let me go. I really do have an important appointment at Le Bernardin today."

"What important appointment?" I asked coolly, studying every minute shift in her expression.

"That's none of your business," she replied curtly, but I could sense the secret behind her words. Her eyes darted away too quickly-the way they always did when she was hiding something.

"None of my business? Fine, don't tell me," I said with a cold smile. "Then we'll just consider it unimportant and go car shopping first."

I'd chosen this excuse deliberately, knowing she genuinely needed a car, but more importantly, I needed time to confirm my suspicions.

"Sean!" Angela's voice suddenly rose, her amber eyes blazing with fury. "Whatever was between us ended five years ago. What gives you the right to harass me and interfere in my personal affairs? What's wrong with you? Is one Christina Jordan not enough?"

The mention of Christina's name immediately chilled the atmosphere in the car. I narrowed my eyes, about to explain, "Christina and I-"

"I don't care about you and her," Angela cut me off abruptly. "I just want you to stop hounding me."

A surge of anger burned in my chest. How could she so easily dismiss everything between us? Especially after potentially concealing our children from me.

"Angela, there's something you're hiding from me, isn't there?" I demanded, watching her carefully. "Why else would you be so eager to keep your distance?"

Though she maintained a facade of professional coolness, I caught the momentary panic that flashed across her features. Instead of answering directly, she countered, "Hiding? What would I possibly be hiding from you?"

I held her gaze for a long moment, feeling that familiar charge between us-the challenge, the pull that had always existed. "You tell me. Why are you so desperate to avoid me?"

"I'm not hiding anything," she shot back, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

"Fine" I replied with deliberate casualness.

Then I noticed Angela turn toward the window, pulling out her iPhone to send a text. I could see the iMessage screen, and my heart rate quickened as I realized she might be contacting "Mr. Night"-unaware that this was my alternate identity.

"Angela!" I called out, my voice sharper than I'd intended.

She startled, nearly dropping her phone. She frowned at me in annoyance.

"Who are you texting?" I asked, trying to mask my tension.

"Why do you care?" She quickly closed the screen and tucked her phone away. I was tempted to grab it from her, but decided against it. If I appeared too eager, she might become suspicious.

Peter caught my eye in the rearview mirror. "Where to next, Mr. Shaw?"

"The BMW showroom on Fifth Avenue," I answered, discreetly taking out my own iPhone and switching it to silent mode. I couldn't let Angela discover that "Mr. Night's" messages would come directly to my phone.

At the BMW showroom, Angela immediately pointed to a mid-range 3 Series sedan, declaring it the best option within her budget.

"Not that one," I immediately objected. "The performance is inadequate, and the safety features are insufficient." I turned to the sales consultant hovering nearby. "Show her the top-of-the-line 7 Series instead."

Angela's expression hardened. "I can't afford that, and I don't need something so extravagant."

"I'll buy it for you," I said casually, enjoying the flash of irritation that crossed her face.

"I don't need your charity," she refused flatly, her eyes sparking with defiance.

"Why not?" I tried appealing to her business sense. "Isn't it better for the CEO of Wilson Advisory Partners to have a safe, reliable vehicle? It's practically a business necessity."

She countered swiftly, "Really? So the president of Shaw Group gives luxury cars worth over $100,000 to all his business partners?"

I held her gaze steadily. "If they were like you, I might."

I watched as Angela turned to the sales consultant, insisting on test driving her chosen model. I knew how stubborn she could be, but I could match her obstinacy any day. When she prepared to get into the driver's seat, I quickly claimed the passenger side.

"Why are you so persistent?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice.

I fastened my seatbelt and deliberately asked, "How's your driving?"

"Terrible. Absolutely awful. I'm practically a menace on the road," she retorted with a cold smile, clearly hoping to discourage me.

I raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Oh? I've never ridden with a road menace before. It's about time I tried."

I observed her tense jaw and slightly trembling fingers, sensing that familiar tension between us-a mixture of anger, frustration, and an undeniable attraction neither of us could fully suppress.