**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt**
**Chapter 53**
The car rolled to a halt in front of the Azure Hotel, its polished exterior glimmering under the soft glow of the streetlights. The driver, Mr. Zamora, was about to step out and open the door for her, but Marina had already taken the initiative, swinging the door wide and stepping out with a sense of purpose.
“Thank you, Mr. Zamora. I truly appreciate your help,” she said, her voice warm yet tinged with a hint of formality.
Although the journey had been steeped in silence, with no words exchanged between them, Marina felt it was essential to acknowledge his service. It was a small gesture, but one she believed was important.
Inside the car, Daron remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead, as if he were lost in thought or perhaps in a world entirely separate from hers.
Marina pressed her lips together, a subtle signal to herself that she should refrain from saying anything more. With a gentle touch, she closed the car door, not wanting to provoke any further awkwardness.
Yet, just as she was about to turn away, Daron unexpectedly pushed the door open from the inside, causing her to pause in surprise.
He emerged from the vehicle, striding past her with an air of determination. His expression was dark and inscrutable, radiating an unmistakable vibe that screamed, ‘stay away.’
Marina blinked, momentarily taken aback by his abruptness, and felt an urge to follow him as he made his way toward the hotel entrance.
“Mr. Zamora, are you staying here tonight as well?” she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the stillness of the evening.
Daron didn’t even spare her a glance, his focus unwavering as he continued to walk, leaving her feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion.
Marina’s lips formed a slight pout. She had barely scratched the surface of his feelings, yet he was treating her with a frigid indifference that was both puzzling and disheartening.
‘I really don’t know him at all,’ Marina mused, her thoughts swirling. ‘He’s not just sharp-tongued; he’s a maestro of the silent treatment.’
Her mind flickered to her sister, whose icy demeanor was legendary. ‘If those two ever found themselves in a battle of silence, who would emerge victorious?’ she pondered, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
‘Most likely my sister,’ she concluded.
After all, when her sister had insisted on calling off the engagement, if she had only taken a moment to speak favorably about Daron, perhaps he would have reconsidered the Zamora family’s harsh treatment of the Finleys.
But her sister had been resolute, refusing to cooperate with the Zamora family for years, standing her ground without wavering.
Daron, then, was likely powerless against her sister’s unwavering resolve.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t still be navigating life alone after all this time.
Perhaps he had been fishing for information about her sister, and when she had shut him down, it had left him feeling frustrated and sulking in silence.
It was no wonder he had been brooding throughout their car ride.
Maybe this was simply the nature of heirs, a relentless power struggle where both parties awaited a sign of weakness from the other.
In contrast to the years of awkward tension that had defined their relationship, Marina found herself feeling oddly comforted by the realization that her own failed relationship had at least provided a clear beginning and end.
As they stepped into the elevator, Daron turned to face her. For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and she caught him observing her with that familiar, unreadable expression.
He frowned immediately, a reaction that sent a shiver down her spine.
Instinctively, Marina looked away, slowing her pace as she felt the weight of his gaze.
She certainly didn’t want to walk into a frostbite-level stare.
Fortunately, Daron didn’t linger; the elevator doors slid shut before she could step inside, and she released a quiet sigh of relief as she moved to press the button for the next ride.
However, in an unexpected twist, the doors opened again almost immediately, revealing Daron standing tall within the elevator, his presence dominating the small space.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an underlying tension.
Marina blinked, her mind racing as she scrambled for a suitable response.
Daron maintained his gaze, his expression a mask of inscrutability.
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