Chapter 33

Sam didn't ask further. Smiling, he said, "We just opened a bottle of Burgundy. Would you like a glass?"

He filled half a glass and handed it to Hansel.

Hansel took a small sip. "Not bad." After a pause, he casually asked, "Didn't you say Miranda was here earlier? Why don't I see her?"

"Did you intentionally come here just to see her?" Sam swirled his glass with a forced smile.

"Heh," Hansel's expression darkened slightly. "I just happened to come for some alcohol. Since you saw her, is it illegal to ask?"

Sam shrugged. "I bumped into her in the corridor. She was just here for a drink. Given the late hour, she must have gone home a long time ago."

Hansel said nothing, but his expression visibly relaxed. As he'd thought, this environment didn't suit Miranda.

Putting down his glass, he stood. "I have work tomorrow, so I'll be going. Put this on my tab."

As Sam watched him leave, his gaze dimmed. After a moment, he sighed lightly. "I'm sorry, bro."

Winter and Miranda didn't spend even an hour in the private room. After Winter finished half a bottle of wine, she passed out. Miranda also had some wine and couldn't drive. She called a designated driver for Winter, then hailed a cab home.

Along the way, it began to rain. Because it was dark, the cab only dropped her off at the alley near her home.

Miranda had no umbrella and didn't know when the downpour would stop. She decided to run home in the rain.

"Miranda!"

A clear voice called her name, stopping her. She turned and saw Paul emerging from the rain with an umbrella.

"Were you planning to run home in the rain?"

He wasn't wearing a button-up shirt; instead, he wore a casual T-shirt, making him look less stern than usual.

Miranda nodded slowly. That had been her plan.

"Use this umbrella." He thrust the umbrella into her hands.

She frowned. "What about you?" (She wanted to suggest sharing the umbrella.)

"I'll borrow one from a shop." Paul ran across the street to a restaurant and borrowed a foldable umbrella from the owner.

Miranda blinked. That owner was known for his temper and dislike of customers. How had Paul managed that?

"He had some electrical issues in his restaurant. I happened to be passing by and fixed them." Paul didn't elaborate. Seeing the rain lighten slightly, he opened his umbrella and walked into the rain.

Miranda stared at his back for a moment before following.

In this old neighborhood, the streetlights were dim, and the rain made them seem even weaker. Lightning flashed, and the trees rustled in the wind. Miranda tightened her grip on the umbrella and quickened her pace.

They weaved through the alleyway in the storm. Miranda noticed she kept a constant ten-foot distance from Paul—not too far, but not too close either.

Was he intentionally slowing his pace because he knew she was scared?

He suddenly turned around. "What's the matter?"

She was startled. "Nothing."

"Can you keep up?"

"Yes."

The rain had been heavy. When she got home, her pants were so wet she could wring them out. She quickly changed into dry clothes and took a hot shower. After putting on her pajamas, she took an immunity supplement to prevent a cold. As she swallowed the bitter tablet, she pictured Paul with his umbrella. His back was tall and broad, appearing reassuring.