Jamison was caught off guard; he turned to look at her, surprise flickering in his eyes.

Ivy glanced up as well, her gaze confused and almost childlike in its innocence. “What’s wrong? You don’t like me leaning on you?”

“It’s not that,” he replied, swallowing, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, unable to hide his delight. “I was just trying to be a gentleman, afraid I’d startle you. But since you’re the one making the move, I guess I don’t need to hold back.”

Despite the tease in his words, his actions remained perfectly respectful.

They held each other tightly. Nestled in his embrace, Ivy slowly began to relax, her eyes drifting shut in quiet contentment.

The next morning, Ivy woke up early.

They were still having breakfast in the hotel restaurant when Gallagher called.

After hanging up, Ivy handed her phone to Jamison. “Look at this address–Gallagher wants us to meet him there. Memorize the license plate number and don’t get out of the car when we arrive. Oh, and Gallagher said to make sure our car is as ordinary as possible, so we don’t attract attention.”

“Got it. I’ll have them bring over a few regular vans.” Jamison relayed the instructions to Derek, and they headed upstairs to pack.

About half an hour later, three battered old vans pulled up outside the hotel.

Jamison led Ivy downstairs. The moment they climbed into the first van, he took in the stained seats, the floor that creaked underfoot, and the grimy curtains whose original color was anyone’s guess. For someone as fastidious as Jamison, it was pure torture.

Ivy noticed his tightly furrowed brow and the look of utter discomfort on his face. Feeling a little guilty, she offered, “Maybe… we could check if the other vans are any cleaner?”

Jamison shook his head, figuring they were all about the same. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to sit down. “Forget it, let’s just get moving. We don’t want to be late.”

She slid into the seat beside him, still looking a bit embarrassed. “Are you sure you don’t regret coming with me? With Gallagher around, I’ll be fine. You could wait at the hotel–”

“Wait? You’re my wife. If I don’t stick with you now, are you going to divorce me later for being an absent husband?” he cut her off, half–joking, half–serious.

Ivy smiled, her gratitude shining through. “Thank you, Jamison. I think I just fell for you a little more.”

He froze, eyes fixed on her, warmth flickering in his gaze.

With those words, it was as if even his worst neuroses melted away.

“I make all these sacrifices for you, and you only like me a little more?” he muttered in mock annoyance, though the happiness was plain on his face.

Ivy could only shake her head with a smile.

The convoy set off, rumbling and swaying on the old mountain road toward Silverfen.

The town wasn’t large; before long, they were winding their way into the hills. The mountain road snaked gracefully through green slopes and glimmering streams, like a silver ribbon weaving through a painting.

It was breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

Yet beneath the beauty, Ivy knew, lay the darkness that had trapped so many.

As the mountains rolled by outside the window, unsettling memories began to surface in her mind.

Jamison, noticing the shift in her mood, reached over and squeezed her hand.

Ivy turned, managing a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, really.”

“Don’t force yourself. If you’re scared, tell me.”

She nodded.

“When we get out, don’t leave my side–not for a second. No matter what happens, don’t let go of my hand.” Jamison’s voice was low but firm, his concern unmistakable.

Chapter 319

Ivy glanced over at him and realized, for the first time, that she wasn’t the only one tense and afraid.

Jamison was scared too.