THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 29: Behind the wheel

Chapter 29: Behind the wheel

Seated behind the wheel, Tryson maneuvered the winding streets of the estate, the silence in the car stretching between them, thick and taut like a rope pulled to its breaking point.

Beside him, Angel sat still, her gaze fixed on the blur of streetlights outside, her mind seemingly lost in their rhythmic flicker.

"Angel," Tryson’s voice cut through the stillness, low and measured, carrying the weight of something unspoken.

She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing just slightly, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

He glanced at the road, then back at her, a moment of hesitation clouding his usually confident demeanor. "I’ve been thinking... it might be time to renew the contract."

Angel’s brow furrowed in instant concern, the calm she had worn slipping away, replaced by a sharp edge of suspicion. "Renew the contract? I thought we were still operating under the old one."

Tryson exhaled, a quiet sigh that seemed to carry all the tension in the car with it. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening.

"It’s just... well, the terms of the last agreement might not be enough anymore, especially now that—" he trailed off, momentarily looking at her before quickly returning his gaze to the road, "especially now that you’re expecting."

A surge of disbelief flickered across Angel’s face, but she quickly masked it with a frown that deepened her features, her thoughts spinning.

"The current one seems fine to me," she said, her voice cutting through the air with a quiet defiance.

Tryson inhaled sharply, the sound heavy with something unsaid.

The car hummed in the silence that followed, thick with unspoken words. Angel, for the briefest of moments, studied him—her gaze flickering from his stiff posture to his tense grip on the wheel.

She wasn’t sure if the fight was worth it, but deep down, she knew that no matter how hard she tried to block him out, Tryson’s persistence was something that demanded at least some thought.

"Alright," she said finally, her voice surprisingly steady, though it carried an undercurrent of resolve. "Go ahead. Process it. I’ll sign it."

There was a flicker of surprise on Tryson’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by a small, measured smile.

"Okay, then," he replied, his tone soft but carrying a hint of relief. "I’ll get the lawyer to draft the new terms."

Angel nodded once, her lips twitching as if she might offer a smile, but the moment vanished just as quickly when his gaze flickered toward her.

Tryson mirrored her gesture, a smile on his lips, though his eyes remained guarded.

The tension between them lingered, fragile, like the calm before a storm. Then, as if to break the stillness, Tryson spoke again.

"So," he said, his voice casual, as though the previous conversation hadn’t just hung heavy in the air, "do you have a favorite color?"

Angel blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected shift in topic. "What’s with the sudden question?"

He shrugged lightly, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "I don’t know. Thought it might be nice to get to know you a little better. Last time we were together, we didn’t really talk much. I want to change that."

Angel hesitated, the usual walls she put up in place, but something about the sincerity in his voice made her pause. Despite herself, she found the words slipping out.

"Yellow," she replied softly, her voice quieter than she intended, as if sharing something small but significant.

"Wow, it must really suit your name—yellow, matching the word ’Angel,’" Tryson remarked, his smile calm and effortless, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Angel’s lips parted, a soft laugh escaping before she could control it. "Oh wow, I never thought of it that way. I just like the color. What about you? What’s your favorite color?"

Tryson paused, his gaze momentarily flickering to the side, as though weighing whether to reveal something personal. Finally, he shrugged, his voice light but with an undercurrent of vulnerability.

"Well... women might find it a little weird, but... it’s baby pink."

Angel’s reaction was instant, a burst of laughter that she couldn’t contain. She tilted her head back, unable to stifle her surprise.

"Baby pink? Really?" she exclaimed, the laughter spilling out, making her voice lighter than usual.

Tryson chuckled, a subtle flush creeping up his neck, but he didn’t back down.

"What? The color’s beautiful and delicate. It’s like white—pure, fragile, just a second away from being tainted. And you can’t deny it’s cute."

Angel wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, her laughter still lingering in the air.

"Oh my gosh! You’re absolutely right. When people think of Tryson Bliss, they picture this ruthless, business-minded man. And baby pink? That’s the last thing they’d associate with you!"

A smirk curled on Tryson’s lips, but his tone remained steady, an underlying sense of pride in his words.

"Mock me all you want, but it’s true. Baby pink has a softness, a charm that’s hard to ignore. It’s an unexpected contrast, but that’s what makes it intriguing."

Angel shook her head, still smiling, her amusement still bubbling beneath her words. "This feels like a plot twist in some thriller novel. Tryson Bliss... a fan of baby pink? Never thought I’d see the day!"

"You can’t blame me," Tryson said, a hint of mischief in his tone. Then, before he could stop himself, he added, "Besides, I think of you whenever I see baby pink."

Angel froze, her laughter fading as she turned to him in disbelief. "What did you just say?" she asked, her voice light but probing.

Tryson’s heart skipped a beat, realizing what had slipped out. "Uh... nothing," he muttered, feigning nonchalance. "Forget it."

Angel arched a brow, pretending she hadn’t heard him clearly. "Hmm, must’ve been my imagination," she said playfully, though her heart fluttered unexpectedly.

Tryson, desperate to change the subject, cleared his throat. "So, what’s your favorite food?"

Leaning back in her seat, Angel’s eyes sparkled with amusement. She allowed his deflection, though the moment lingered in her thoughts.

"Alright, if you must know..." she began, and her voice carried a new warmth as she shared the details with him. "White pasta with sauce and meatballs," Angel began, her tone almost dreamy, "and then you add pepperonis and slices of red chili on top."

Tryson’s eyebrows shot up. "That much chili? I didn’t know you were a spicy kind of girl," he said, clearly surprised.

Angel smirked, enjoying his reaction. "I know, people always assume I have a sweet tooth. But honestly? I’m all about spicy food. And trust me," she added, leaning in slightly, "if you tried it, you’d see how delicious it is."

Tryson chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Spicy food and baby pink... talk about contradictions."

"Guess that’s what keeps things interesting," Angel replied with a playful glint in her eye.

"I don’t think I want to try that," Tryson admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not really a fan of spicy food."

"Really?" Angel asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.

She leaned back slightly, giving him a once-over as if to confirm she was, in fact, sitting beside the ruthless, cold-hearted entrepreneur tycoon everyone believed had fiery, intense tastes.

Tryson nodded, amused by her reaction.

"You know what? I’m just going to say it—I’m more shocked than anyone to discover this about you," Angel confessed with a laugh. "Everyone paints you as this walking inferno with all these intense qualities."

"Maybe that’s why you shouldn’t take everything you hear or read on the internet about people so seriously," Tryson replied casually, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Journalists and bloggers are just trying to make money. They’ll post any nonsense that gets clicks—especially when it’s about relationships."

Angel turned her head toward him, narrowing her eyes slightly. Something about his tone made her wonder if he was subtly defending himself against the rumors about him and Riley.

She opened her mouth to respond but stopped as they approached the estate gates.

"I’m just going to hop out and grab my package," Angel said calmly, her tone low but resolute.

Tryson nodded, pulling the car to a stop at the side of the gate. He stayed in the car, watching as Angel stepped out.

As she walked toward the gate, Tryson glanced at the seat beside him and noticed her phone lying there.

His brows furrowed in concern—she might need it to confirm her package. Without hesitation, he got out of the car and followed her.

"Hm, I’d like to collect my package," Angel said to the gateman, starting to describe it when a familiar voice interrupted her.

"Angel."

Her head whipped around at the sound of her name, and she froze, her eyes widening in surprise.

Standing a short distance away, Arthur smiled at her, his expression unreadable as he began walking closer.

Angel felt her pulse quicken, unsure of what to make of his sudden appearance. Tryson, holding her phone in his hand, slowed his steps as his gaze flicked between Angel and Arthur.

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