The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 130

He gave a brief hum of acknowledgment, offering nothing more.

Closing her laptop, she stood up, looking down at the man seated impeccably behind the heavy desk.

Biting her lip, she hesitated for a long time before finally speaking. "Uncle Alistair, I'm sorry..."

He looked up at her but remained silent.

"I'm still so unfamiliar with everything at Zucker Corp, and I'm terrified of embarrassing you," she continued softly.

"I want to wait until I've actually learned the ropes and earned a promotion. That way, no one can use me to gossip about you."

At her words, his dark pupils contracted slightly.

So, it wasn't that she didn't want to be associated with him.

It was because she felt she wasn't good enough yet, and she was terrified of making him look bad. That was why she refused to acknowledge their connection in front of others.

A subtle shift occurred in his eyes. His lips parted, his voice dipping low. "Celia, I told you. You don't need to put so much pressure on yourself over a new project."

She shook her head, her expression fiercely earnest. "I want to do a good job. It's the only way I won't..."

She trailed off, as if suddenly remembering something deeply traumatic. Her eyes welled with fresh tears. "It's the only way people won't look down on me."

A mist of unshed tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at him with profound gratitude. "Thank you, Uncle Alistair. You're the only one who can help me."

She seemed so incredibly quick to hand over her trust, to expose her absolute bottom line to him.

Just because he had helped her, she was telling him: *You're the only one I have.*

What if, one day, someone else helped her?

What if, without him knowing, another man reached out a hand and pulled her from the wreckage—what would she do then?

Would she hand over all her trust and gratitude, looking at some other man with those same tear-filled, obedient eyes?

Would she tell *him*, 'You're the only one I have'?

A wave of dark irritation crashed over him.

His tie felt suddenly suffocating. Reaching up with one hand, he loosened the knot at his throat, his gaze never once leaving her face.

"Uncle Alistair, other than Grandpa, you're the closest thing to family I have."

No. That was never going to happen.

"You can."

Visibly relieved, she finally released her grip on his sleeve.

The instant the pressure on his cuff vanished, a layer of frost seemed to coat his eyes, darker, possessive emotions violently churning beneath the surface.

"Go to bed. I'll have them bring your medicine up."

"Okay! You get some rest too. Goodnight, Uncle Alistair!"

After wishing him a good night, she finally left the study.

It looked like they would be living under the exact same roof for the next few days.

Walking down the hall, a calculated smile touched her lips, a glint of triumph flashing in her eyes.

Late that night.

Alistair's bedroom was on the second floor. Around midnight, a frantic knocking echoed against his door.

"U-Uncle Alistair... are you asleep?"