He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 601

The drive back was uneventful; he made no further advances as he smoothly navigated the city streets.

The sports car eventually pulled into the underground garage of The Park Hyatt Hotel.

She stepped out.

Surprisingly, he cut the engine and got out as well.

"I'll walk you up," he stated, leaving no room for argument.

She paused for a fraction of a second but ultimately swallowed her protests.

He maintained a perfectly respectful distance.

They stepped into the elevator together.

Staring at his reflection in the polished steel doors, she felt an overwhelming sense of quiet dread.

Seducing him was supposed to be her master plan.

But she had never intended to hand him the reins of control.

A sudden wave of panic washed over her; her entire strategy had been derailed, leaving her completely blindsided.

He was operating with the terrifying calm of a man who had already won.

She remained perfectly silent.

He escorted her all the way down the hushed corridor to the door of her suite.

"We're here," he announced softly.

She gave a stiff nod.

Without a word, she reached into her purse for her keycard, only to have his hand suddenly cover hers.

The keycard slipped right into his grasp.

Her brows slammed together instantly.

She looked up at him, her heart in her throat.

For a split second, she was utterly convinced he was about to force his way inside.

Instead, he merely leaned down, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"Goodnight, Lena."

With a soft click, the door swung open.

He released her hand.

Without saying a word, she practically bolted inside and slammed the door shut.

Only then did she realize her palms were completely drenched in sweat. Leaning back against the solid wood, her heart hammered violently against her ribs.

The suffocating tension that had gripped her nerves refused to dissipate.

The psychological warfare he waged was incredibly overwhelming.

It felt as if he had slowly crushed the air right out of her lungs.

It took a long, agonizing moment for her pulse to finally stabilize.

As the years dragged on, the crushing weight of her guilt had transformed into an immovable mountain, suffocating her at every turn.

So, the confession died on her lips.

But as if sensing her inner turmoil, Julian's name suddenly flashed across her screen.

Staring at the incoming call, she took a deep, steadying breath and answered with practiced calm.

"What are you up to?" his gentle voice flowed through the speaker.

"Just got back to the hotel," she replied after a tiny pause.

"Meetings ran this late?" he asked casually.

She hesitated, searching for the right words.

He didn't push, giving her the space she needed.

Through the phone, she could hear the soft rustle of paperwork.

Compared to the reckless, impulsive heir he once was, the man who only ever did exactly what he pleased.

Julian was now burdened with the immense weight of the Campbell legacy, having traded his wild streak for calculated ruthlessness and absolute composure.

Living in Coralia all these years, she was well aware of the endless parade of socialites who threw themselves at him.

Even with a wedding ring on his finger, they still lined up around the block.

He could have easily chosen someone far better suited for him, rather than anchoring his life to her sinking ship.

But the complexities of love were impossible to dissect.