Kicked Out I Unlocked My Ultimate Boss Mode novel Chapter 43

**Broken Doesn’t Mean End**
By M. Kaushik

**Chapter 43: Just Happened To Be Passing By**

He left?

He left again?

The initial glow of shyness and joy that had danced across Wendy’s face began to fade, piece by piece, like the last rays of sunlight retreating from the horizon.

In that moment, it felt as if all the vibrancy within her had been snuffed out, leaving her spirit to wilt like a flower deprived of water.

Why was it that the Garcia car had made two appearances at the Walcotts’ estate in such quick succession, yet never once did it pause for her?

Not a single time had he even approached the door, leaving her with a gnawing sense of confusion and disappointment.

What could possibly be Timothy’s reason for coming to the Walcotts’ estate?

As she gazed down the empty, tree-lined driveway, a wave of profound unease crashed over her heart, tightening its grip with each passing second.

At that very moment, Helen found herself seated in the passenger seat of Timothy’s car.

The instant she had approached the grand estate gate, her eyes had fallen upon that unmistakable Maybach, its sleek form standing out against the backdrop of the estate’s opulence.

Timothy, that tall and refined figure, leaned casually against the car door. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an undeniable air of confidence about him. An unlit cigarette hung lazily from his lips, adding to his almost ethereal charm.

Basking in the golden sunlight, he possessed an otherworldly quality that could easily ensnare the heart of anyone who dared to look his way.

As he heard the sound of footsteps, he lifted his gaze. Under the brilliant sun, his deep, dark eyes sparkled like a tranquil pool of water, the subtle ripples of mischief lending a tantalizing edge to his otherwise cool demeanor.

Upon spotting Helen, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Morning, Ms. Walcott.”

The way those words lingered on his lips, “Morning, Ms. Walcott,” sent a shiver of something ambiguous and intimate racing through the air between them.

Helen raised her eyes, her expression a mixture of curiosity and caution. “What are you doing here?”

“Just happened to be passing by. Thought I’d give you a ride,” Timothy replied, his voice smooth and inviting as he opened the car door for her.

“Ms. Walcott, please get in.”

Helen narrowed her bright eyes, scanning the surroundings with a keen gaze. The driver her mother had arranged was nowhere in sight, which piqued her curiosity.

She glanced at the time, her mind racing, but she decided not to make a fuss. With a sense of determination, she slipped into the car, settling into the plush passenger seat. “Prometheus Institute, thank you.”

The vehicle swiftly pulled away from the estate, the tires gliding over the smooth asphalt as they headed toward their destination.

Timothy’s long fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel, his eyes flickering over to Helen.

The morning light bathed her in a soft glow, accentuating the exquisite contours of her profile. Her eyes, clear and cool, held a captivating allure, though they betrayed a hint of fatigue that tugged at her usually composed demeanor.

His gaze fell upon the thermal food container she clutched. His voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. “Haven’t had breakfast yet?”

“It’ll take about 40 minutes to reach the institute. Rest for a bit. I’ll wake you when we arrive,” he assured her, his voice dropping further, becoming a soothing melody in the quiet confines of the car.

After a night filled with intense mental exertion, the rare opportunity for relaxation, coupled with the calming scent of cedar wafting through the air, made her feel unexpectedly at ease.

The pull of fatigue became impossible to resist.

Leaning against the seat with her eyes closed, she surrendered to the moment, her breathing gradually slowing, becoming soft and rhythmic.

For the first time in her life, she found herself asleep in the car of a man she hardly knew, a strange yet oddly comforting experience.

Timothy’s gaze lingered on her peaceful face for several moments, a gentle warmth flickering in his eyes that even he was unaware of.

He adjusted the car’s temperature slightly, ensuring her comfort, and continued to drive steadily toward the National Institute of Research and Development nestled in the suburbs.

Forty minutes later, the sleek black Maybach navigated through layers of heavily guarded checkpoints before finally halting in the institute’s underground parking garage.

As the car came to a stop, Helen’s eyes fluttered open, the brief nap having rejuvenated her body and mind. The brightness returned to her clear, cool eyes, and she took a moment to assess her surroundings outside the car window.

Surprise flickered across her features as she turned to Timothy, her curiosity piqued.

She wondered how he had navigated through the institute’s Department of Defense security checkpoints to gain access to the garage.

Yet, she chose not to voice her thoughts. Instead, she swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car. “Thank you.”

“You seem to keep thanking me,” Timothy replied, stepping out of the car himself. With one hand tucked casually into his pocket, his long legs carried him effortlessly to her side as they began to walk toward the institute together. “Want to count how many times you’ve thanked me today?”