Billionaire's Match (by Tangy Candy) novel Chapter 967

"Don't worry," Noah said softly. "I'm using a cover identity. The focus isn't on me."

Hearing that, Charlotte finally felt a deep sense of relief.

"But… I thought you left," she murmured.

Noah didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at her.

He had left.

Neither Ethan nor Khloe could keep him.

Yet, Charlotte's heart had pulled him back.

Noah suddenly understood what Spence had once said: the heart's resting place is often where one is willing to be buried. But to live without regret—that is life's meaning.

"Charlotte… I want to stay," he said.

Charlotte froze, stunned, thinking she hadn't heard him correctly.

"You… said what?"

Noah no longer avoided her gaze. His eyes, usually calm and unreadable, now shimmered with gentle waves that seemed ready to swell into a tide.

"I said… I want to stay. In Goldmont City."

He repeated the words, voice soft but deliberate, each syllable weighted with meaning.

Charlotte clenched the edge of the blanket in her hands, fingers tightening.

"Why?" Her eyes flickered, a spark of joy breaking through instinctively. "But… you said… you were just a passerby?"

Noah didn't answer at once. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, brushing across his face and highlighting the sharp contours of his features.

"I've always been a passerby," he said quietly. "Even when I encounter something beautiful, I've never dared to love it fully."

His Adam's apple moved. He lowered his head and gently clasped her hand in his.

"I still can't promise forever… but I want to ask—do you… want me to…"

"Charlotte…"

His voice was husky, rough like sandpaper on wood.

She didn't respond, only closed her eyes. Her eyelashes trembled violently, and tiny tears pricked at the corners.

The kiss traced slowly downward from her forehead… first her brow, causing a subtle shiver in her lashes. She didn't pull away.

Warmth followed the curve of her face—across her eyelids, along the bridge of her nose.

Every motion was delicate, completely unlike the man who could hold a knife without flinching, who could move through gunfire unscathed. There was no trace of the lethal precision he usually carried, only gentleness.

She could no longer resist. Her small hands pressed lightly against his firm waist, pulling him closer.

Finally, Noah's lips met hers. Lightly, softly—just a touch.

It felt like traveling a long road and at last finding home.

But just then, the hospital room door creaked open ever so slightly.