Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny (Quintessa and Tyrone) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32 

Violet said, “You better head back home; you can’t go in there now. Looks like this whole show’s gonna bomb anyway. Save yourself the trouble before Tyrone gives you more grief.” 

Quintessa felt a warmth in her heart, “Okay, thanks, Violet.” 

Violet nodded, “Alright, I’m heading in.” 

“Okay.” 

Quintessa glanced at the man standing a short distance away, his back to them as he spoke on the phone, a sinister smile playing on her lips. 

After hanging up, Tyrone returned to find Violet sitting there, but no sign of Quintessa. He asked about her, and Violet made up an excuse that Quintessa wasn’t feeling well and had gone home. 

Tyrone’s face soured on the spot. Without Quintessa, what was the point of sticking around? With a scowl, he left the joint. 

Stepping out of the place, Tyrone disgustedly stripped off his jacket, the smell of smoke clinging to him, which he found particularly loathsome. 

There were parking spots right in front of the restaurant, and as Tyrone approached his car, the driver waiting inside quickly got out and opened the back door for him. 

As he bent to get in, the driver began to close the door, but before it shut, someone pushed it open, “Hey, what are you doing?” 

The driver reached out to stop it, but was too late the intruder had already slipped inside. 

Under the faint evening light, Tyrone could still clearly see who had joined him. He paused, and then laughed, “I thought you left.” 

Quintessa flipped her hair and turned, her smile sultry, “You’re still here, and how could I bear to leave? Didn’t you say, Mr. York, that you wanted to try it tonight, see what’s real 

and what’s not?” 

Quintessa was never one to let things slide. She wouldn’t let Tyrone make a fool of her and then slink away silently. Even if she couldn’t get back at him, she wasn’t about to make things easy for him. 

She might not be able to take him down, but she could sure as hell make him squirm. 

Tyrone, meticulous in all he did, would naturally choose the finest ride in the lot. Quintessa had scanned the parking area and spotted Tyrone’s car almost instantly, watching it from a distance, waiting for him to come out. 

Tyrone’s irritation melted away as he reached out and lifted her chin with two fingers, 

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admiring her face, a smile forming on his lips. 

The driver, unsure of what to do, hesitated, “Mr. York?” 

In a swift motion, Tyrone pulled Quintessa into his embrace. 

“Drive.”