Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 197

Out of the corner of his eye, Lennon caught sight of the phone screen beside him—black now, the call long since ended. A faint, knowing smile tugged at his lips.

He let his hand fall, gently circling Seren's neck, his forehead resting against hers.

His voice dropped to a whisper, low and tender, threaded with a hint of reluctant longing. "Then I won't kiss you."

Though the room was shrouded in darkness, they were close enough for her to see the softened lines of his face, the warmth in his gaze.

But in the depths of his eyes, a fierce, smoldering intensity threatened to pull her under.

Seren's lashes fluttered downward, too intimidated to meet that dark, possessive stare.

At last, Lennon released her, carefully adjusting her pillow before pulling the covers up around her shoulders.

He brushed a light touch along her cheek. "Goodnight, Mrs. Crestwell."

His words were as gentle as moonlight, sending a shiver through her heart.

Her cheeks burned, grateful that the darkness could hide the flush. She took several deep breaths, willing her mind to clear, and glanced at her phone on the nightstand.

The screen was still black—the call had ended at some point, she didn't even know when.

With clarity returning, she pieced together why Lennon had kissed her so suddenly. It wasn't hard to guess—he'd been sparring with Sheridan on the other end of the line, marking his territory, playing to the audience.

Otherwise, he'd never have broken from his usual calm, gentlemanly composure.

She understood, but that didn't stop her heart from racing, beating out of rhythm.

Because beneath the performance, his possessiveness didn't seem like an act at all. It felt more like a fierce, long-suppressed passion finally breaking free, a wildfire threatening to consume her.

*

Sheridan wasn't even sure when he'd hung up.

Ever since he'd heard Seren's drowsy, languid voice—just woken, soft and unguarded—his mind had been a fog.

Willa.

They'd grown up together, and it wouldn't be the first time. She was perfect for this.

He dialed her number.

Twenty minutes later, Willa appeared at The Golden Age.

The late autumn night was bitterly cold, the air even sharper after a recent downpour. Willa wrapped herself in a long, fur-lined coat, but underneath, she wore a black camisole and tiny leather shorts, her legs encased in knee-high leather boots that made her skin look impossibly pale.

A woman like her, all curves and confidence, was a walking embodiment of temptation.

But before Willa could even start her usual teasing, Sheridan's patience snapped. He grabbed her by the waist, pressing her roughly against the glass door...

Half an hour passed in a blur.

Sheridan finally let her go, dragging a clean shirt and pants from the closet. He dressed quickly, then scooped up their scattered clothes from the floor and tossed them into the trash without a second glance.