?Chapter 1047:


    Ethan noticed she wasn’t budging. He stared at her for a moment, trying to read her face. When she bent over her desk again and focused on her paperwork, he finally turned and walked away, though he clearly wasn’t thrilled about it.


    Wasting no time, Yvonne skimmed through the article, packed up her belongings in a neat bundle, and made her way downstairs.


    It wasn’t particrlyte, but the sky was already slipping into twilight.


    As she descended the stairs, she pulled out her phone and booked a ride. By the time she reached the lobby doors, she spotted a vehicle idling at the curb, hazard lights blinking.


    She approached it and, to her surprise, recognized Norton’s car. A quick nce at her screen told her the ride she ordered hadn’t shown up yet—so she simply canceled it without a second thought.


    As she climbed in, she couldn’t resist asking, “Why this car? I almost didn’t recognize it.”


    It wasn’t the same one Norton had used earlier that day. She thought it seemed familiar, but since he didn’t drive it often, it took her a moment to ce it.


    “What’s wrong with it?” Norton asked, motioning for the driver to begin and speaking in an indifferent tone.


    “Nothing,” Yvonne replied. After a hectic day of running errands, she felt a little relieved to see that Norton hade to pick her up. But then, the memory of her argument with Shelly from a few days ago—and the fact that Shelly was with Norton—wiped away her brief moment of joy.


    “Your favorite restaurant has some new dishes tonight—I reserved a table. Want to check it out?” Norton asked, ncing her way with a casual air.


    “No,” Yvonne answered, clearly not interested. She sank back into her seat and shut her eyes, hoping to unwind.


    Norton was about to speak, but seeing how exhausted she looked, he thought better of it and stayed quiet.


    After a few moments, Yvonne opened her eyes and looked out the window, a sudden sense of unease creeping in.


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    “This isn’t the way home, is it?” she asked, her voiceced with irritation.


    “No, we’re headed to the restaurant,” Norton replied. Noticing her displeasure, he reached over and gently brushed her hair.


    Yvonne quickly swatted his hand away. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to go?”


    His face hardened, but he kept his cool. “I’ll order all your favorites—juste with me.”


    “I don’t want to!” she snapped, growing angry. If he wasn’t going to listen, why bother asking?


    “Take us home,” Norton told the driver, his voice cold and his whole attitude turning frosty.


    It was clear Yvonne loved the food at that restaurant—he had even nned to get her favorites—but she still refused to go with him. She had been fine dining with another man, but now, when he wanted to take her to her favorite restaurant, it was too much for her. A surge of anger hit him. He rubbed his temples, trying to get a grip on himself. He forced his frustration down.


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