?Chapter 1364:


    Up there, the city stretched out like a restless sea of lights, and the air felt sharper, cleaner.


    She sat near the edge, legs curled under her, cradling the bottle.


    Time didn’t exist.


    She just stared at the horizon, watching as ck melted into indigo, then blue. The peace shattered when the terrace door mmed open behind her.


    “Corrine!” Kinsley’s voice rang out—half breathless, half terrified. She rushed forward with slow, careful steps, as though Corrine might slip off the edge with any sudden movement. “It’s too high here, too dangerous. Come on, let’s go back inside, okay?” Her tone was gentle but threaded with fear.


    Noticing the tension etched into Kinsley’s features, Corrine offered a slight smile. “I’m just in a foul mood and needed some peace. I’m not about to do anything dramatic. Why are you so tense?”


    Kinsley ignored the reassurance. Her steps were slow, measured—like someone approaching the edge of a crumbling cliff. Her chest tightened with dread. “If something is bothering you, you can talk to me,” she said gently. “This ce… it’s too dangerous. If you need to blow off steam, we can head to the shooting range—spend the whole day and night there like we used to. Juste down first. We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be right there with you.”


    Corrine’s lips curled into a faint smile as she reached for the wine bottle beside her. “Want to join me for a drink?”


    Corrine’s calm demeanor eased the knot in Kinsley’s chest. She wasn’t on the verge of doing something reckless—at least, not yet.


    With a sigh of relief, Kinsley lowered herself onto the floor beside her, close enough to offerfort without pressing too hard. She cast a side nce at her friend.


    The corners of Corrine’s eyes glistened red, her gaze hollow and rimmed with fatigue. There was no mistaking it—she hadn’t slept a wink.


    Everyone in the Red me organization adored Corrine.


    She was their pride, the quiet pulse that held the team together. She had always worn a mask of icy detachment, her cool exterior rarely cracking. Nothing ever seemed to faze her.


    But those who had spent enough time with her knew the truth. Beneath that hardened shell was a heart far too soft for her own good. Corrine had a strange way of loving—the more she cared, the more indifferent she pretended to be.


    And right now, that distant look in her eyes betrayed everything. Whoever she had seenst night, they meant something to her.


    Something real.


    Kinsley tilted her head, her voice softening. “What happenedst night?”


    Corrine kept her gaze fixed ahead, fingers absently rubbing the neck of the wine bottle. “It was nothing.”


    Kinsley narrowed her eyes and reached out, yanking the bottle from Corrine’s grip. “You drank yourself half-blind and stayed up till dawn, and you call that ‘nothing’? Who are you trying to fool?” She certainly wouldn’t buy it.


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