Chapter 994 Silent Night

Besse chose an outfit and went to the bathroom. After showering, she was surprised at how perfectly it fit. Looking in the mirror, she wondered if Oscar had ulterior motives. The precision of the fit felt almost…calculated.

Lost in thought, her phone rang. It was Doyle.

"Where are you?" he asked bluntly.

Besse hesitated. Telling Doyle she was with Oscar would bring him rushing back. Lying felt wrong.

Before she could answer, Doyle continued, "Northfield's hyping this whole thing up."

He didn't seem concerned about her location. After all, where else could she be but a hotel?

"Northfield lacks famous designers," he explained. "This plagiarism is a big deal. More hype means higher profits. 'Phantom's' sales have skyrocketed—almost tenfold."

He meant that the publicity surrounding the plagiarism scandal was boosting Phantom's sales, as many people were curious and some even showed support for the designer.

"Just be careful," Doyle warned. "Avoid reporters. I'll be back as soon as I handle things here."

"Don't worry," Besse assured him.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't so independent," Doyle said softly. "If you relied on me more, we wouldn't be so distant."

"Okay, okay," Besse urged. "Go handle your business. I need to rest for tomorrow's meeting with 'Phantom.'"

There were things she didn't want to discuss; they felt burdensome.

"Be careful tomorrow," Doyle said. "Call me before you go. I'll arrange protection."

"We'll see," Besse replied evasively.

Doyle, understanding her nature, offered a few more reminders before hanging up.

Besse put down her phone and lay on the large bed beside her. She wasn't tired, but emotionally drained. Her mood wouldn't improve easily. She fell asleep without realizing it.

She awoke to a completely dark yard outside. The peace was profound. She savored the feeling, but this was Oscar's home. She would rest properly at her own house.

Checking her phone, she saw it was almost midnight. This unbroken sleep was a luxury she hadn't experienced in years. She usually woke two hours after falling asleep. A seven-hour sleep was unprecedented.

She stretched, yawned, and washed up before opening the door. Feeling refreshed and slightly hungry, she decided to walk in the garden.

To her surprise, Oscar sat on the sofa, watching television on low volume. In the dimly lit room, the flickering screen illuminated his solitary figure.

He wore luxurious deep green silk pajamas instead of his usual impeccably tailored suits. His hair, usually slicked back, fell softly, and he wore gold-rimmed glasses, giving him a different, softer appearance.

Besse's presence immediately caught his attention. Though outwardly calm, his heart raced. He pursed his lips, trying to control his excitement. He felt giddy, simply having her under the same roof.

He rose, his imposing figure radiating intensity.

"You're awake," he said, his voice deep and magnetic.

Besse nodded, feeling an unusual flutter in her chest.

"Why are you up so late?" she asked calmly.

She found it surprising that the Commander of Northfield would watch entertainment shows. She expected international news or something more serious. But of course, even a Commander had personal preferences.

"I was waiting for you," Oscar replied smoothly. His voice was incredibly pleasant.

She understood the women's infatuation; they called him an eternal idol. Before tonight, she'd never believed it.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," she apologized.

Without further pleasantries, he asked, "Do you want to sit down before dinner?"

"Have you eaten?" Besse asked, feeling another flutter at the prospect of sharing a meal with him.

"No," he replied.