The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 388

Chapter 174: Targets and Ties-3

“Let’s just say,” she replied, “he wasn’t in the best mood.”

Maya stared at her.

“He deployed quite a number of resources trying to find us,” Dahlia went on casually. “Even after his father told him he was wasting his time.” She took a slow sip of her coffee. “After years of marriage, Dominic knows better.”

She glanced toward the trees, serene.

“When I want to be left alone,” Dahlia said calmly, “I will be.”

Maya felt warmth bloom in her chest-an ache somewhere between awe and sudden understanding.

Being away from Damien left a subtle emptiness, a quiet tug she couldn’t ignore-but it was tempered by the rare, necessary space to breathe, to simply exist without weight pressing down.

Then a sudden thought struck her, and her eyes widened.

“Wait,” she said, straightening. “Isn’t Mrs. Lin coming over tonight? To finalize our travel plans?”

Dahlia gave her a gentle nod, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re right,” she said gently. “But there’s nothing to worry about. Eleonor already has dinner preparations well in hand.” A faint smile touched her lips. “All we need to do is show up.”

Dahlia rose smoothly, brushing her hands together as if closing a chapter.

“It’s a long drive back,” she added calmly. “We should head out.”

Maya paused, taking one last look at the targets, the quiet woods, the place that had given her more than she ever expected.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Dahlia’s smile warmed, satisfied, as she gestured toward the path leading out of the trees.

“Come,” she said softly, her hand brushing against Maya’s as she gestured to the path. “Let’s go home.”

The drive back was quiet. Maya leaned against the seat, watching the sky bleed from amber

Chapter 174 Targets and Ties-3

and rose into deep violet as the sun sank behind the distant hills.

1.25 Pousts

The gentle sway of the car, the hum of the engine, the lingering scent of the forest-it all felt like a rare pause, a bubble of calm suspended far from the obligations waiting just beyond the manor gates.

Somewhere, far from this bubble of calm, Damien raged-unseen, relentless, each passing second sharpening the tension she was blissfully removed from. Hour by hour, frustration had built like a storm contained only by his will. Every report, every call, every briefing fanned the embers of his temper, until it burned with barely restrained intensity.

The rules were simple.

When Damien Blackwood was like this, silence wasn’t courtesy-it was survival. Move carefully. Speak only when necessary. Never meet his eyes.

At Blackwood Enterprises, the office moved on eggshells, every step calculated, every word measured. Even the most seasoned executives-masters of strategy, negotiation, power- tread lightly, fully aware that a single misstep could draw his attention.

Today, no one dared.

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