The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 29

The night wind swept through the empty streets.

On the sprawling avenue, the black luxury car sat parked by the curb, bathed in the glow of the streetlights and the city's neon skyline.

The wind was sharp.

Inside the dim cabin, Celia's long eyelashes fluttered, her clear, beautiful eyes locking squarely onto the man's face.

Alistair was dressed in a dark suit, his shirt buttoned flawlessly all the way to the top.

His features were sharp and detached, completely devoid of any readable emotion as he looked at her.

He delivered the line with absolute calm, making it sound like a piece of solemn advice from an elder, or perhaps a merciful warning.

Celia blinked, as if carefully contemplating his words, before she smiled and nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't be that kind of person."

She seemed to think this was just a general piece of life advice. Alistair's frown deepened. His thin lips pressed together. Watching the sweet, compliant girl sitting in front of him, his gaze turned significantly colder.

"Celia, what I mean is that you should apologize to the assistant at Forrester Group."

The wind outside seemed to stop entirely.

The girl's eyes trembled, the look she gave him suddenly laced with pure shock and confusion.

Even the sweet smile on her face slowly slipped away.

After a long, agonizing silence, her eyelashes fluttered. "Uncle Alistair, what did you say?"

Her voice was so soft and fragile it felt like the wind could blow it away.

Alistair merely looked at her, his eyes devoid of any unnecessary emotion.

"I said, you should apologize to the person you've been making things difficult for."

To him, this was undoubtedly her personal business.

And Alistair never interfered in other people's personal business.

Alistair noticed. Frowning slightly, he asked, "What did you want to say?"

Right at that moment, Ken finally rushed out of the building and jogged over to the car.

The window rolled down, and a breathless Ken handed over the beautifully wrapped coffee. "Ms. Stafford, your coffee."

Celia turned away, completely refusing to look at Alistair again, and pushed the car door open to step out.

Taking the coffee from Ken's hands, she kept her head down, her voice incredibly soft. "Thank you, Ken."

Filled with guilt, Ken dropped his cold facade and gave an awkward, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Stafford. It was just too busy this afternoon."

Celia shook her head and didn't say another word to him.

Turning back slightly, she leaned down to look at the man inside the car and offered a quiet expression of gratitude. "Thank you, Uncle Alistair. I'll take the coffee back now. Get some rest."

With that, she didn't linger for a second longer, nor did she spare Ken another glance, turning on her heel and walking away.