?Chapter 1180:


    Nate’s hand trailed down to her waist, kneading the sore muscles with just the right amount of pressure. “It’s still early. Do you want to rest a little longer?”


    “Yes.” Corrine noddedzily in response.


    Before she could even set her feet on the ground, Nate effortlessly scooped her into his arms, cradling her as he stepped out of the car.


    She made no move to resist, simply draping an arm around his neck, nestling into the warmth of his embrace.


    As her gaze wandered, she caught sight of Rosalie again. The other woman’s eyes flickered, betraying the briefest moment of dazed longing before she quickly masked it.


    But Corrine noticed. A woman’s intuition was rarely wrong.


    Even though Rosalie kept her emotions carefully in check, Corrine could sense them—silent yet telling. That quiet admiration, that lingering fondness for Nate, was written in the way she looked at him.


    A young girl’s infatuation,id bare in the glimmer of her eyes.


    Not that Corrine could me her. She had never once denied that Nate was an exceptional man.


    Back in the bedroom, shey in the dim quiet, unable to sleep.


    Memories of their passionate night flickered through her mind, her breath hitching as the intensity of it all yed out like a fevered reel.


    Frustrated by her restless thoughts, she grabbed her phone, scrolling through the onught of messages waiting on WhatsApp.


    Over twenty unread notifications red back at her, but one in particr caught her attention—a link from Natasha.


    Curious, she tapped the screen. The headline that red at her was nothing short of startling. Bruce, the CEO of Ashton Group, had won the old town redevelopment project.


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    The news came like a ssh of cold water, unexpected and disorienting. She didn’t waste a moment and dialed Natasha.


    Nate descended the stairs, his footsteps drawing the attention of everyone already lounging in groups on the plush sofas.


    Conversations lulled, curious eyes turning to watch him.


    He settled into an armchair with deliberate calm, fingers working the buttons of his shirt cor until ity open, hinting at something untamed beneath his usualposed demeanor.


    The most striking detail, however, was the fresh hickey on his Adam’s apple.


    The mark spoke volumes. It needed no exnation.


    Awareness flickered through the room, subtle, amused nces exchanged between Moses and the others.


    But Rosalie’s gaze was anything but. It was locked on Nate with a ferocity she couldn’t conceal.


    Her fingers curled around her cup, knuckles turning pale as she wrestled with her own storm of emotions.


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