She Left She Thrived She’s Worth Billions novel Chapter 446

Preston pinned Melanie to the mattress, his fingers tugging restlessly at his hospital gown as he loomed over her. He stared down at her, his gaze feral, like a starving predator finally cornering his prey. The sheer, ravenous intensity in his eyes—making it blatantly clear he fully intended to devour her right then and there—caused the color to drain from her face. It wasn't that Melanie was opposed to sleeping with him. She liked Preston, and honestly, being in bed with a strikingly handsome man like him was hardly a hardship. But right now, something about the way he was hovering over her felt entirely wrong.

"If you force me, I will never speak to you again."

She said the words with deadpan seriousness. She hadn't actually expected him to listen or stop, but to her immense surprise, he froze. The terrifying, borderline violent tension radiating from him slowly dissipated. Preston rolled off her and lay flat on his back beside her. It was obvious he needed a moment to cool down.

The hospital room fell so silent that the air itself seemed to stall. Only the sound of Preston's heavy, ragged breathing echoed in the quiet space. Melanie lay still, quietly studying his profile and the sharp, flawless cut of his jawline.

"I'm sorry."

After a long while, his voice broke the silence, sounding unexpectedly weak as he offered the apology. Melanie shifted closer to him, her expression turning serious.

"Can you tell me what's actually going on with you?"

In all the time she had known him, she had rarely seen Preston act so recklessly unhinged. He was a man of iron restraint. Even in the heat of passion, he never completely disregarded her boundaries. She couldn't wrap her head around what had just triggered him. Tilting her head, she racked her brain but came up empty. Just moments ago, she had been sitting on his lap, playfully flirting and complimenting his looks. Was it a crime to call her own boyfriend handsome?

Unable to figure it out, Melanie slid off the hospital bed and poured him a glass of water. Preston sat up, downing it in one go. Slowly, the familiar, composed depths returned to his dark eyes.

"I'm okay now. I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

"A little," she replied softly.

"I don't want to stay here."

His tone left no room for argument. She couldn't really blame him; nobody actually enjoyed living in a hospital ward. It was inconvenient and nowhere near as comfortable as home. As night fell, even though there was a separate cot available for guests, Melanie chose to squeeze into the narrow hospital bed with him. It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep, but it was warm, and she liked it.

Late in the night, when the world outside was dead and silent, the room was pitch black. Melanie was fast asleep, tucked securely against Preston's chest. But Preston, who had appeared perfectly asleep just moments before, suddenly opened his eyes. They gleamed brightly in the dark. He hadn't slept at all. He simply couldn't.

He felt like his mind was spinning with ghosts of the past, likely because they were here in Quillborne City, Quarevia. He hated this place. He wanted to be as far away from it as possible. And yet... this city was also where his greatest dream had begun, the starting point of his only hope.

In the darkness, Preston let out a silent, heavy sigh.