The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 342

Chapter 158 Threads of Presence-2

Chapter 158: Threads of Presence-2

Claim

Ashcroft’s fingers closed around it slowly, knuckles tightening as the city lights carved shadows

across his face.

“Harper Lin… you think you can run from me?” His jaw tightened, gaze hardening as the city lights flickered past.

“You only make distance feel like a dare.”

Back in the Blackwoods’ garden, the air was thick with the scent of chamomile and damp earth. Laughter still lingered, faint and fading – like the soft glow of lanterns swaying lazily from the trees. The tea had long gone cold, untouched on the wrought-iron table, yet no one seemed ready

to leave.

The night hummed with a quiet kind of peace – fragile, fleeting, as though even the wind hesitated

to disturb it.

Maya smiled as Dominic launched into another story – this one about Julian sneaking Malia out to midnight festivals and getting caught red-handed. The group laughed, the sound easy and warm.

Jaime joined in, his grin genuine, but the strain was starting to show. His shoulders sagged, the color draining from his face. He tried to keep up, but his laughter came softer now, his breaths shorter each time.

Jaime straightened in his seat, trying to mask the fatigue etched across his face. But Maya saw it -the faint tremor in his fingers, the pale tinge around his lips, the way his smile flickered and faded

too soon.

She leaned slightly toward Damien, who was seated beside her. His eyes, calm but sharp, followed Jaime just as closely. Without a word, Damien tilted his wrist toward her and checked his watch. It’s almost ten,” he murmured softly.

Maya’s brow furrowed. “That late already?” She turned back to her brother, voice gentle but firm.” Jaime… you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I think that’s enough excitement for one night.”

Jaime forced a weak laugh. “No, no, May… I’m fine, really.”

But the slight tremor in his voice-and the way his hand lingered on the table for support-spoke louder than any words. Maya’s hand brushed his arm instinctively, her gaze full of quiet concern.

Damien, beside her, gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the same worry without a word.

yours.”

The table fell silent-no laughter, no clinking of cups-just the soft night breeze stirring the lanterns

overhead.

Maya’s throat tightened, her eyes glistening as she blinked hard to keep the tears from spilling. Damien’s arm slipped gently around her shoulders, pulling her close in quiet comfort.

Across the table, Dahlia didn’t bother to hide her tears; they slid freely down her cheeks as she smiled through them, proud and aching all at once.

Even Charles and Eleonor, usually composed in their age-worn grace, felt the young man’s pain settle deep in their chests. Eleonor reached for her husband’s hand beneath the table, and Charles gave a small, steadying squeeze-holding himself together, but only barely.