Chapter 141

Angela POV

I stood at the school entrance, watching Christopher guide the twins through the large wooden doors.

They looked so small next to his tall figure, with Aria bouncing excitedly as she told him about her upcoming art project while Ethan walked with his usual measured steps.

A knot of discomfort tightened in my stomach. I had already declined Christopher's advances the last time we spoke, yet here he was again, inserting himself into our daily routine.

He'd appeared at my door this morning, saying, "Didn't we agree you'd think about it? It's been days, I'm guessing you've made up your mind."

His persistence felt suffocating, but with my old secondhand car broken down, I'd reluctantly accepted his help for today.

As the twins disappeared inside, I felt a prickle at the back of my neck-that unmistakable sensation of being watched. I scanned the street until my eyes landed on it: the same black Bentley I'd noticed yesterday, now parked across the street in a different position.

Or perhaps, this is just another wealthy parent's car, I thought, trying to reassure myself. This is an exclusive private school after all. Luxury cars are common here.

Still, something about its presence felt deliberate, calculated.

Christopher emerged from the school, his expression warming as he approached me.

"The children are safely inside," he said. "Aria made me promise to come see her art exhibition next week."

I smiled politely, though my attention remained divided. "Thank you for bringing us. I know you're busy," I said, then added deliberately, "I'm planning to buy a car tomorrow. That way, you won't need to take time out of your schedule to help with the children anymore."

Christopher fell silent for a moment, his expression clouding slightly. "Have you chosen one already?"

"Yes, I've found one within my budget. I'll go see it tomorrow."

"Then I'll accompany you," he said, his tone leaving little room for argument.

I hesitated, then nodded. "All right. And when we go... I'll have something important to tell you." This would be my opportunity to formally decline his pursuit, once and for all.

My eyes drifted back to the Bentley, and this time Christopher noticed, following my gaze.

"Angela."

"It's nothing," I replied quickly, forcing my attention back to him. "You should head to the office. Blake Capital needs you."

Christopher's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you sure you're alright? I can drive you to the office."

"I'm fine. It's a short walk from here," I insisted. "We'll talk this afternoon. I'll explain everything then."

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Until later, then."

As Christopher's car pulled away, I took a deep breath and did something impulsive-I walked directly toward the black Bentley.

My heart pounded as I approached. The windows were tinted nearly black, making it impossible to see inside. I stopped beside the driver's side door and, before I could lose my nerve, rapped my knuckles against the window.

No response.

I knocked again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

Bending down, I tried to peer through the window, shading my eyes against the morning sun's glare. The tint was too dark, revealing nothing but shadowy outlines that might have been my own reflection.

After several attempts, I straightened up, frustrated. Perhaps I was being paranoid-seeing threats where none existed. Still, my instincts rarely led me astray, and something about this vehicle felt wrong.

Reluctantly, I turned and headed toward my office, unaware of the movements inside the car as I walked away.

That evening, I stood by my bedroom window, pulling the curtains closed as the twins prepared for bed. Aria was still chattering about her day, particularly excited about a visitor who had come to their classroom.

"Mama, he knew about our videos! He called himself Mr. Night, like from the comments!"

I froze, curtain still in hand. "Mr. Night visited your school?"

"Yes! He was very tall with green eyes," Ethan added from the doorway, more reserved but equally intrigued. "He said his children already attend our school."

My blood ran cold. Before I could question them further, my phone chimed with a notification.

Night: Hello.

I stared at the message, my fingers suddenly unsteady as I typed a reply.

Me: Mr. Night, good evening.

Looking out the window, I noticed with a jolt that the black Bentley was parked across the street, barely visible in the evening shadows.

Me: Mr. Night, have you been busy lately? You never responded about the bank account when I asked earlier.

Night: Yes.

Me: Could you send your account number now? I need to return the money to you.

Night: Fine.

I waited, but no account information arrived.

Me: Mr. Night?

Night: When are you free? Let's meet in person.

Me: Mr. Night, can't I just transfer the money to your account?

Night: I only accept cash.

Night: If you don't want to repay it, that's also fine.

My heart raced as I stared at his messages. Something felt off-dangerous, even.

Me: Where should we meet?

I waited for his response, but none came. When I looked out the window again, the black Bentley had vanished.