In the bar, lights flickered.
Ambient light and the enchanting night intertwined at the bar, flowing over Curtis's features, emanating an extreme sense of wild sensuality.
His knuckles tapped rhythmically on the bar table.
The bartender handed him a drink.
His superior appearance and demeanor attracted the attention of many would-be suitors, but he seemed aloof and distant, making him hard to approach.
Occasionally, someone would muster the courage to come over and chat.
Curtis would lazily pull his wedding ring from his pocket, slip it onto his left finger, silently shutting down any advances.
He wasn't sure if he came out tonight to clear his head or because he was afraid to face Dakota's innocent eyes after the shameful things he did last night.
When Tyrese arrived, he saw Curtis leaning against the bar, casually toying with a black enameled gold cigarette case, flipping it open and shut.
Over and over again.
It mirrored his restless state of mind.
Tyrese looked at him with a calm expression, seeing through him with just one glance, "Have you figured it out?"
Curtis snapped the case shut again.
He clicked his tongue and lifted his eyes to look at Tyrese, "No, I just don't get it."
"How is it that after knowing each other for so long, and never having these feelings before, I suddenly like Dakota after getting our marriage certificate?"
Tyrese ordered a drink at the bar.
He raised an eyebrow at Curtis nonchalantly, "Are you sure you never felt anything before?"
Curtis: "..."
The bartender handed over the drink Tyrese had ordered.
He swirled his glass, looking at Curtis as if watching a play, "When Dakota used to steal your underwear, you never cut ties with her. Could it be that you actually cared?"
Curtis: "..."
If it were in the past, he would have sworn it with certainty.
But now he dared not say he had never harbored those thoughts, as he began to suspect that perhaps they had always been there, just unnoticed.
After all, Dakota was quite troublesome when they were younger.
Looking back, given his temperament, if anyone else had done this—even close friends like Jasiah or Noe—Curtis would have lost his temper and told them to get lost long ago.
But Dakota had always been indulged by him.
No matter how much trouble she caused, even if he was furious inside, he never scolded her or blamed her, allowing her to continue acting out like this.
It's not that he didn't want to yell.
When he was really about to lose it, he did want to.
But every time he saw Dakota's proud and beautiful eyes, her lashes fluttering like butterflies, he felt his resolve suddenly soften.
Just as Tyrese had said,
She was his nemesis.
Dakota's Maplewood Lane residence was still under repair.
Curtis contacted the property management, who determined that the summer heat in J City had caused the pipes to burst.
This neighborhood had been around for quite some years.
It was now difficult to build villas within the third ring road in J City. This villa had been purchased by Greta many years ago and transferred to Dakota's name as a birthday gift when she turned eighteen.
The bursting of old pipes wasn't unusual given the circumstances.
But since someone was hurt, the property management suggested that Dakota find another place to stay temporarily until the villa could be thoroughly inspected and the water system repaired before she could move back.
Thus, Dakota had to move more of her belongings to Whispering Pines, including the treasures she bought at the auction and the diamond ring worth nearly two hundred million dollars.
Her colleagues were shocked when they heard Dakota talk about it, "Goodness, Dakota, you've been so unlucky lately, cutting your hand and injuring your back. Luckily, the pipes didn't hurt your hands again." "Yes."
Dakota helplessly dabbed at the paint, "If my hands get hurt again, I'd cry till the Great Wall."
Since childhood, she cherished her face and hands the most.
After all, she was an artist.
If her hands were seriously injured, she might never be able to hold a brush again.
Her colleague laughed, "Where are you staying recently, Ms. Pineda? Why don't you crash at my place for a while? I don't mind sharing my bed with a beauty."
Dakota paused with the paintbrush in her hand.
When asked where she was staying recently, unexpectedly, Curtis's image popped into her mind...
That night, amidst the splashing water,
she met a pair of deep, seemingly fateful eyes through the chaotic water stains.
At a time when she was most helpless and uncertain, he rushed into the bathroom like a ray of light, reaching out to her and leaning close, "Leave it to me."
Recalling these scenes once more,
her cheeks inevitably turned red and her heart raced.
After all, what followed—taking off the bathrobe and applying the ointment—was definitely quite intense.
Dakota's gaze flickered, feeling inexplicably guilty, "I... I've been staying at a friend's place temporarily."
But her colleague thought it was unusual, "Staying at a friend's place can make your face this red?"
Dakota nervously picked up her paintbrush again.
A colleague leaned in, teasing, "So, boyfriend or girlfriend? Has our exhibition hall's top beauty been swept off her feet and fallen into a secret romance?"
"What nonsense..."
Dakota nibbled her lip uncomfortably, not noticing that her fingertip had smeared her nose with paint whenever she lied.
"I'm not dating anyone!" Her tone sounded defensive, "It's just temporary cohabitation!"
But there were jeers from the side.
Although Dakota hadn't explicitly stated it and even denied dating, everyone now knew that her roommate was a man.
But adults know their limits, especially when they both understand, there's no need to delve further.
Time flew, and it was time to clock out.
The office atmosphere was harmonious, some invited others to dinner, some to drinks, all smiling and saying goodbye for the day.
Dakota packed up her things and prepared to go home.
But misfortunes never come singly.
She had just gotten into her new blush pink car when she realized it was out of gas.
Dakota looked at the fuel gauge with annoyance.
She realized she must have been too busy lately, running back and forth between Whispering Pines and Maplewood Lane, and thus her car had run out of gas.
Knock knock knock—
There was a knock on the window.
Dakota turned and saw a handsome, gentle face. A man in light-colored business attire bent down and politely tapped on her window, "Gardner."
Dakota rolled down the window.
She immediately recognized the man, Alan Acosta, the heir of Acosta Group, who had taken over the family business after returning from studying finance abroad and was now a vice president.
"Mr. Acosta."
Dakota didn't particularly like him and greeted him perfunctorily, "What brings you here?"
Colleagues passing by mistook him for Dakota's mysterious male roommate and smiled, calling others to look.
"There's nothing much. It's just been a while since we last met. I heard you just returned to the country and started working at the National Museum, so I wanted to see you."
Alan rested his wrist on her car window, the extravagant watch almost blinding Dakota.
She frowned unhappily.
But Alan didn't seem to notice, "So, considering I made a special trip to see you, would you honor me with dinner tonight?"
