Chapter 269

Vincent paused, shoulders tense, and then finally met Hannah's gaze. "Honestly? I didn't dwell on it.You were inside, so I went in."

Hannah's eyes sharpened, her tone growing weightier, pressing himn for more. "Then explain why you had someone watching me for those two months after | regained my sight."

He let out a breath, the faintest trace of a bitter smile tugging'at his lips. "Curiosity," he admitted, the word rough in his throat. He wanted to know how she'd been without him.

His voice held a trace of awkwardness and bitterness. Even after cutting her out and trying to convince himself he was done, that stubborn,gnawing urge to know how she was holding up without him had refused to fade.

The admission sat between them, heavy and raw.

Hannah's mouth thinned, her fingers curlíng unconsciously against her palm, something uncertain shadowing her eyes. She didn't let the silence stretch. Leaning in, her stare pinned him,voice low and unwavering. "And the gala? Why did you insist l be your dancing partner, even if it meant facing off against Miles?"

A muscle jumped in Vincent's jaw. When he spoke,his voice was brisk and edged with something sharp."Didn't want you to dance with someone the tabloids already link you to."

No hesitation.Just brutal, unvarnished logic.

Hannah's lips curved in a knowing smile-a small,luminous shift that said she finally understood something.

Before Vincent could react, she closed the distance between them in a single, graceful movement.Her lashes brushed the edge of his cheek, stealing the air between them.

His thoughts splintered; eyes flaring wide, he stiffened, swallowing hard as heat climbed his neck.

"Vincent..." Her whisper was silk against his ear-breathless and electric, landing with the force of a confession. "Don't you see it by now?"

He could only manage a hoarse, "What?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, the world narrowing to her nearness, every sense on high alert.

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she studied him, gaze lingering as she slowly lifted her right hand and pressed it to his chest, the thin cotton of his hospital gown offering no barrier to the frantic rhythm beneath.

Thump, thump... His heartbeat thundered against her palm, wild and unmistakable, echoing between them in the stillness.

Her eyes never left his, searching, unflinching.She drew a breath, lips parting as she spoke with steady,unshakable confidence. "You've fallen in love with me."

Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the certainty in her words. "This heartbeat doesn't lie.It's all the proof I need."

While she spoke, her fingertip brushed over his heart in a slow, delicate circle.

Vincent froze, tension locking every muscle. A dizzy rush swept through him, leaving his head hot andhis pulse roaring in his ears.

A wild storm brewed in his eyes, every thought drowned out by the thunder of his own heartbeat.

He couldn't think straight. His gaze slid from her steady eyes to the curve of her lips-soft, inviting,dangerously close. His body moved before his mind could catch up.

Guided by pure instinct, his eyelids fluttered low, a raw need flickering in his expression as he bent closer-drawn to Hannah's lips, desperate to quiet her in the most undeniable way.

Their breaths collided-hot, shallow, mingling in the

narrow gap that barely separated them.

Just as hislips hovered, trembling, a heartbeat away from hers, Hannah suddenly turned aside, swift and sure. His mouth brushed nothing but the hush she left behind.

Her hand, steady and unyielding against his chest,gave a sharp push.

Unprepared, Vincent toppled backward, hitting the pillow with a jarring thud. Agony lanced through his spine, wrenching a rough groan from his lips and dousing his fevered mind in cold, brutal clarity. Blood drained from his face as reality crashed back in.

Hannah had already put distance between them,composed and poised, her gaze cold and unflinching. A mocking curl tugged at her mouth, her voice heavy with finality. "Too bad. I don't love you anymore."

Not pausing, she swept a hand down her sleeve,spun on her heel, and strode for the door-every step clipped, brisk, unmistakably resolute.

Her words echoed behind her, cold and razor-precise, carving a merciless path straight through Vincent's chest. He remained there, watching her retreat, a numbness flooding in so suddenly that it left him reeling-as if the ground had been yanked away and he was left hovering in freefall.

Then, the thought struck, slicing through the fog.Ridiculous, jarring, and impossible to ignore. Was he in love with her? No way. He was Vincent Jones-the architect of empires, a man who thrived on control,calculation, and power. He didn't unravel over a woman. He didn't throw himself into something as chaotic, as pointless, as love.

Every instinct in Vincent screamed at him to kill the feeling, to slam the gates shut and bury the words in scorn-just as he always had.

But Hannah's voice-"You've fallen in love with me"_refused to fade. The phrase echoed relentlessly,battering the cold defenses he'd spent a lifetime perfecting.

For the first time, Vincent had drifted in unfamiliar

territory, genuinely adrift.

Across the corridor, Hannah strode off at a quick pace, but inside, her pulse remained astonishingly steady.

The answer she'd once ached for-eight years of desperate hoping, of soul-baring pleas for a scrap of tenderness-had finally materialized.

It hadn't come in the form of a heartfelt confession of feelings. Instead, it was the steady proof of his racing heart. And now, having received what she'd once wanted more than anything, she felt no surge of joy,no giddy triumph. Just a profound quietness.A sense of quiet closure, as if every tangled emotion had finally clicked into place, and she could-at last-let go.