?Chapter 921:


    “Yes, this is a position many women dream of! How fortunate I am!” Yvonne responded cheerfully.


    Norton smirked slightly, his gaze darkening just enough. “At least you’re aware of your ce.”


    Seizing the opportunity, Yvonne grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “How do you think I did today?”


    “Great,” Norton replied, a touch of approval in his tone.


    “Then can I start working tomorrow?” Yvonne pressed eagerly, watching his face for any sign of agreement.


    Norton’s expression tightened, and a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features as he met her eyes. “Do you truly want to work so badly?” Yvonne felt as though cold water had been poured over her, dampening the enthusiasm that had bubbled within her. She squared her shoulders, her voice steady. “I do. I’ve said this before—I want to work. I don’t want to spend my days cooped up, just observing your moods and trying to decipher your every thought. I’m an adult, capable and willing. I want to earn my own money, even if it’s not much. The feeling of achievement, knowing it’s something I’ve earned with my own effort—that’s important to me.”


    Her voice softened as she looked away. “Forget it,” she muttered, a hint of resignation in her tone. “You’ll never understand. You always see things from your perspective, as if it’s the only one that matters.” She had long epted that Norton was distant, living in a world of his own, never truly understanding the subtleties of other people’s emotions.


    As the car neared a turn, her voice broke through the silence. “Drop me off at Nightfall.”


    Nightfall was a trendy nightclub, a new venture partly owned by her friend, an avid car enthusiast. She had been invited to the opening but had declined. Tonight, however, she decided to show support for the ce.


    “Clubbing at this hour?” Norton’s voice grew heavy with disapproval, his brow furrowing as he nced at her. “You’re being a bit… naughty.”


    The traffic light turned red, and Norton fixed his gaze on Yvonne, waiting for her response. But she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, her features stiffened, no longer disying the excitement she had earlier.


    “I have ns,” Yvonne replied curtly, turning her gaze toward the window, clearly signaling she had no intention of discussing it further.


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    Norton’s difort deepened as he sat beside her, feeling the tension grow in the space between them. “At home, you can choose from my collection of wines,” he offered, a faint attempt at redirection, but his words held little conviction.


    As the light turned green, he focused on the road ahead, his gaze no longer drifting toward Yvonne. An unfamiliar sense of unease settled in his chest. She seemed so unappealing when she was upset—distant, cold, and unyielding in a way that unsettled him.


    “Understood,” Yvonne muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. Even the offer of selecting from his wine collection didn’t lift her mood. But she wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by—after all, it was his collection, and it seemed wasteful not to indulge.


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