Chapter 145

Angela POV

I caught his reflection in the rearview mirror-that confident, self-assured expression that had once captivated me and now only fueled my anger. Without warning, I stomped on the accelerator, launching the car forward with enough force to push Sean back into his seat.

The BMW responded immediately, gliding through the dealership's exit and onto the test drive route. I deliberately took corners faster than necessary, watching Sean's expression shift from amusement to surprise.

"Taking the scenic route?" he asked casually, though his white-knuckled grip on the door handle betrayed his discomfort.

I guided the car toward an open plaza, where a large modern sculpture dominated the center. As we approached, I accelerated instead of slowing, driving straight toward the imposing metal structure.

"Angela!" Sean's voice lost its composure. "Watch out!"

His hand shot out, reaching for the steering wheel. Just before he could interfere, I executed a perfect controlled drift, the tires squealing as the car circled the sculpture with practiced precision. The BMW responded beautifully, exactly as I had anticipated.

I slowed to a normal pace, unable to suppress the satisfaction I felt at Sean's stunned expression.

"Were you trying to kill us?" he asked, his breathing slightly elevated. His eyes studied me intently, surprise giving way to something that looked remarkably like admiration.

"You did that on purpose," he stated, not a question but a realization. "When did you learn to drive like that?"

I kept my eyes on the road, refusing to acknowledge the slight flutter in my chest at his impressed tone. "You don't know a lot about me anymore, Sean. Five years is a long time."

"Indeed it is," he agreed, his voice dropping lower.

Without warning, his hand reached across the console, fingers capturing my chin with gentle firmness. His thumb brushed across my lower lip, the touch sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

"You never used to wear such bold lipstick," he murmured. "This shade suits you."

I jerked my head away, my pulse betraying me by quickening at his touch. "Don't."

Sean leaned closer, invading my personal space. The scent of his cologne intensified, wrapping around me like a memory I couldn't escape. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, focusing on the road ahead rather than the alarming proximity of his face to mine.

"If you touch me again," I warned, my voice steady despite my racing heart, "I'll report you for sexual harassment."

His chuckle was low, almost predatory. "You dress like this, looking so irresistible, and expect men not to notice? Isn't that the point?"

My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"Even if it was, it certainly wasn't for your attention."

The temperature in the car seemed to drop ten degrees. From the corner of my eye, I saw his expression harden, the playfulness vanishing entirely. The air around him shifted, a cold anger radiating from his rigid posture.

I guided the car back to the dealership in tense silence, pulling into the same spot we'd departed from.

The sales consultant immediately approached, his practiced smile faltering slightly at the palpable tension between us.

"How was your experience, Ms. Wilson?"

"I'll take it," I replied firmly, stepping out of the vehicle. "I'd like to complete the paperwork now."

"Excellent choice! If you'll follow me to the office-"

"I'll handle the payment," Sean interrupted, following us.

"No," I stated firmly. "I'm purchasing this vehicle myself. If Mr. Shaw attempts to pay, I'll walk away immediately."

The salesman looked between us, clearly confused by the hostility, but quickly recovered. "Of course, Ms. Wilson. Whatever you prefer."

As we entered the office, Sean's phone buzzed. He checked the screen, his expression darkening further.

"Due to production constraints, the vehicle will be ready for pickup in two days," the salesman explained as I signed the paperwork and handed over my credit card for the deposit.

"That's fine," I nodded. "I'll be back then."

"If you'll excuse me," I said to no one in particular, "I need to use the restroom."

In the privacy of the restroom, I pulled out my phone and opened my conversation with Mr. Night. My fingers hesitated over the keyboard before typing:

Would it be possible to postpone our meeting until later today?

I waited several minutes, anxiously checking for a response, but none came. With a sigh of disappointment, I tucked the phone away and splashed cool water on my face, careful not to smudge my makeup.

When I emerged, Sean was waiting outside the showroom, his tall figure silhouetted against the afternoon light. The coldness in his demeanor hadn't dissipated, though his expression softened slightly when he spotted me.

"I'll drive you back," he offered, gesturing toward the black car parked nearby.

"No, thank you," I declined, already raising my hand to hail a taxi. "I prefer to go alone."

For a moment, I thought he might insist, but instead, he simply watched as I climbed into the cab that pulled up. Through the window, I caught one last glimpse of him standing there, unmoving, making no attempt to follow.

As the taxi pulled away, I exhaled slowly, torn between relief and an unexplainable disappointment. I glanced back, half-expecting to see his car following us, but the street behind remained clear.

My phone rang, Christopher's name lighting up the screen.

"Angela," his voice came through, warm and expectant. "I'm waiting outside your office. Are we still looking at cars today?"

Guilt washed over me. I had completely forgotten our arrangement, too caught up in my encounter with Sean and the mysterious Mr. Night.

"Christopher, I-" I began, then stopped. His persistent kindness suddenly felt suffocating rather than comforting. "I already bought a car."

"Oh," he sounded genuinely surprised. "You went by yourself?"