Chapter 8: The Elevator, A Secret Flirtation

Julian clicked his tongue. No matter how he listened to it, Alistair’s words just didn't sound right.

Before he could fully wrap his head around it, Alistair had already parked the car.

Clara stepped out, her eyes lingering on a notice board.

"Three hundred thousand..."

Parking fees for a year were three hundred thousand?!

And this was just for a shopping mall. Who in their right mind would come to a mall every single day? Given Alistair’s personality, he probably wouldn't visit more than ten times a year.

As Clara stood there in shock, Julian walked over and draped his arm across her shoulders.

"Julian, is parking here really this expensive?"

Julian laughed and ruffled her hair.

"It’s alright. But Alistair and I don't have to pay for parking here anyway."

Clara was confused. "Why?"

"Because the 'Vance' in Vance Plaza stands for Alistair Vance, of course!"

Julian hooked his arm around Clara’s neck and led her away.

Clara was utterly stunned.

The largest, most luxurious, and most expensive shopping mall in the city actually belonged to Alistair Vance!

She watched Alistair’s back as he walked ahead, her heart feeling conflicted.

Her adoptive father had always believed Alistair was a coward with no real ability.

But that assumption was a massive mistake.

Alistair was capable, and he had means.

He simply didn't deign to participate in family disputes because his personal assets likely far exceeded those of the entire Vance clan.

"What are you looking at?"

Julian reached out to cover Clara’s eyes, whispering in her ear: "Don't let the fact that he's being nice to you fool you. In reality, he’s a cold-blooded demon. Take my advice—don't get too close to him."

Alistair overheard Julian’s whispering and turned around with a smirk.

He had intended to take Julian’s words as a joke, but to his surprise, Clara actually nodded seriously.

"Heh..."

Alistair let out a frustrated laugh, the amusement in his eyes instantly sharpening into daggers as he turned and stepped into the elevator.

They were on the second basement level. The elevator stopped at every floor, letting more people in.

The elevator, which originally held only the three of them, gradually became crowded until it was difficult to even breathe.

Clara was pushed to the very back. Just as she frowned, she felt a light touch against her fingertips.

It was very soft—more like a tease.

Startled, Clara instinctively turned to look at the person beside her, only to collide with eyes filled with heavy possessiveness.

Alistair arched an eyebrow, his dark gaze revealing an undisguised desire for ownership.

Clara stared into his eyes, almost forgetting to breathe.

His predatory gaze felt tangible, growing and spreading like a wild vine.

Feeling another slight touch on her fingertips, Clara tried to hide her hand behind her back, but at that moment, the elevator

pinged

and stopped again.

Several more people squeezed in. Clara was forced to stand flat against the elevator wall; hiding her hand behind her back was no longer a realistic option.

Fine beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and a faint blush bloomed on her cheeks.

Alistair smirked, his eyes full of triumph.

He used two fingers to trap one of Clara’s fingers, idly toying with it and even stroking her palm with his fingertip.

An intense itch spread through her, and Clara had nowhere to run.

But along with that itch came the sound of her own frantic heartbeat.

Clara tried her best not to look at Alistair, but the thumping in her ears grew faster and heavier.

The elevator stopped again, and more people entered.

Alistair seemed to be pushed right in front of her by the crowd.

Clara looked up and found that the tip of her nose was less than a centimeter away from his.

She forgot to look away after raising her head because Alistair had released her finger, only to—

Slowly take her hand.

Their fingers interlaced.

Clara’s heart skipped a violent beat.

Alistair kept his eyes lowered, his back slightly arched as if he were restraining something, his entire body radiating a tense, explosive energy.

They were too close. Clara swallowed nervously.

At this distance, she could feel his hot, heavy breath against her face.

"Ugh..."

Someone behind them nudged Alistair with an elbow.

Alistair instinctively took a step forward, letting out a soft grunt.

They were even closer now—their noses were touching.

Clara held her breath, her slightly parted lips closing tight.

Her palm was damp with nervous sweat, but Alistair’s grip remained firm, showing no intention of letting go.

Alistair watched her, his nostrils flaring slightly.

On that first night, he had caught a faint, lingering fragrance from her—a cold scent.

He hadn't paid much attention then, but now the truth was being confirmed under these accidental circumstances.

It wasn't a seductive scent, yet it still made his chest feel hot and his breathing turn ragged.

Ding—

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened as a large wave of people poured out.

The once-crowded space instantly became vast and empty.

With the crowd gone, the two of them became exceptionally conspicuous.

The sweet, clean girl and the handsome man who stood a full head taller looked perfect together.

But Julian certainly didn't think so.

He stepped forward in two strides, grabbing Clara’s wrist and positioning himself between the two of them.

Seeing Julian, Alistair rolled his eyes in annoyance.

They were close enough that looking at each other during the day would cause nightmares at night.

"Hey!" Julian looked at Alistair in disbelief. "What was that look for just now?"

Clara looked down, amused by their bickering, and a faint smile curved her lips.

The ambiguous atmosphere was shattered by the comedy of the moment.

"We're here."

The elevator doors opened again at their destination.

Alistair strode out, while Julian rolled his eyes again and led Clara out after him.

"This entire floor is women's wear—luxury brands. I think they're decent enough. Let's buy a few outfits to get by. When the wardrobe assistant returns tomorrow, I'll have them take your measurements. From now on, we’ll only wear custom-made pieces."

Luxury brands... get by... wardrobe assistant... custom-made...

Clara never dreamed she would hear those words in the same sentence.

"This place looks okay. Want to take a look?"

Alistair stopped and turned to Clara, seemingly asking for her opinion.

Clara glanced at the clothes inside the shop. They were all part of a "dopamine" color series, vibrant enough to lift anyone’s mood.

Clara nodded, and the three of them walked in.

The sales associate standing at the door, who had looked sluggish moments ago, instantly perked up with excitement.

"Master Vance! Master Julian!"

The two nodded. As soon as they entered, the associate quickly took a few photos and sent them to a group chat.

This group was filled with fans and followers of the city's top three elite heirs.

[What’s the situation?]

[Who is that woman? She’s actually shopping with two of the Young Masters.]

[I could understand if it was just Julian, but the Crown Prince is there too! Ahhh!]

[Wait, wait, wait! Why do the back of that girl's head and her profile look so familiar?]