Chapter 11
Ellie watched the two men through the glass door for a moment before slowly turning away.
Behind her, a forest path stretched into darkness, the landscape swallowed whole by shadow.
She stood silently at the edge of the woods.
SNAP!
She turned her head.
Not far away sat a set of outdoor sofas and a low coffee table.
A man lounged on one of the couches.
His hair was neatly combed back. His features were sharp, defined.
His deep, piercing gaze carried a quiet, oppressive presence.
She walked over, sat on the sofa opposite him, placed her juice on the table, and met his gaze calmly.
Several bottles of liquor sat between them. Two empty glasses.
Two packs of cigarettes lay nearby.
Ellie reached for a bottle, poured herself a glass, and drank without a word.
He flicked a finger, sending one pack of cigarettes sliding across the table toward her.
“It’ll leave a smell,” Ellie said coolly.
He reached out and took the pack back.
“Ellie Ward?” His gaze sharpened.
“Found it?” She met his eyes, unflinching.
“A nice name.”
“And you?” she asked. “What’s your name?”
“Tyler.”
He wrote it on a sticky note.
With a flick of his finger, the paper slid across the table to her.
“You look like someone who’s hard to mess with,” Ellie said.
He chuckled softly.
“Same here. It’s your coldness and aloofness that keep people at a distance.”
“Where are you from?” she asked, shifting her gaze toward the water.
“West City.”
“Your accent is perfectly standard.”
“And you?” His gaze returned to her.
“Where are you really from?”
“Sunny City.” She smiled faintly.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Then where do I sound like I’m from?” Ellie asked, meeting his gaze.
“Like a predator,” he said slowly, his eyes sharpening,
“who ventured out alone from the wilderness,”
“who wandered out of the wilderness alone.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“So, Miss Ward…” His gaze drifted toward the dark forest beyond her.
“Why do you feel like two completely different people—one in public, and another behind closed doors?”
“Well, the family rules are strict,” Ellie said flatly.
“Strict house rules?” Tyler leaned back lazily into the sofa, chuckling.
“And you still dare to sneak out and sleep with men?”
She turned her head, her gaze settling on him.
“The rumored well-behaved daughter of the Ward family,” he continued casually, “the one who never shows her face. So why does she sound so good in my bed?”
“Look me in the eyes and say that again,” she said calmly.
He glanced at her, then deliberately looked away.
Ellie, however, kept her gaze fixed on him.
“Actually,” she said lightly, testing him,
“your moans were more impressive than mine.”
“Especially the last one. You’re quite good at it. Ever thought about doing voice work for certain kinds of films?”
Tyler’s expression darkened.
“Do you only act this bold around me?” he asked irritably.
“You’re quite the performer.”
“Do you like ‘good girls’?” Ellie tilted her head slightly.
“Fine. I can play along.”
“No.” Tyler lifted a hand, cutting her off.
“Your good-girl act is boring. This version of you is far more interesting.”
Ellie’s brows twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Why does Peter listen to you?” she asked.
“He’s my buddy’s man.”
“Buddy?” She glanced toward the glass door.
“What’s his name?”
He raised an eyebrow.
What’s she digging for?
“Patrick,” he replied flatly.
“Patrick…” Ellie murmured, her gaze drifting to the tall trees silhouetted against the night sky.
Tyler took a breath, his tone softening.
“Alright. I didn’t come here to argue.”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. That was unnecessary.”
She remained silent for a beat.
“Now it’s my turn to be upset,” she said calmly, a subtle provocation threaded through her voice.
Tyler closed his eyes briefly before opening them.
“You’re truly—”
He stopped himself and lit a cigarette.
After only two drags, he flicked it irritably into the ashtray.
“Why stop?” she asked.
“Aren’t you worried your hair will smell like smoke,” he sneered,
“and get you into trouble at home?”
Ellie’s lips curved faintly.
“What’s with the outfit?” Tyler’s gaze swept over her, frowning.
“At least it’s less ridiculous than you in a bathrobe,” she returned coolly.
For once, Tyler was speechless.
Ellie poured herself another whiskey and drank in silence.
“Why didn’t you reply to my messages these past few days?” he asked, his voice noticeably lower.
“Were you upset?”
“What do you think?” He leaned forward slightly.
“Four days.”
Ellie said nothing, simply watching him.
“What’s with that look?” He looked away, unsettled under her gaze.
“My family confiscated my phone,” she said flatly.
“The day we last saw each other.”
He froze.
“So,” she continued coolly, “may I ask—”
Before she could finish, Tyler had already pulled out his phone, ejected the SIM card, and placed the device on the table.
“Sorry,” he said lightly.
“I wasn’t listening.”
“Use mine for now.”
He lifted his hand and made a sharp gesture behind him.
Moments later, Patrick pushed open the door and hurried over.
“Give me your phone,” Tyler ordered.
Patrick froze.
“I—I’ll format it first.”
He immediately pulled out his phone, removed the SIM card, and handed it over.
“Get a new anonymous SIM,” Tyler added.
“Now.”
“Understood.” Patrick nodded, glancing at Ellie several times before leaving.
“This is a custom device,” Tyler explained casually.
“Anti-tracking. Top-tier encryption.”
“The new SIM will arrive shortly. Patrick’s reliable.”
“Your phone hasn’t been wiped yet,” Ellie pointed out.
“Go ahead and check,” he said easily.
His complete lack of caution caught her off guard.
Ellie frowned slightly and looked away.
“You’re twenty-two,” he said quietly.
“Do your parents still confiscate your phone?”
“Thanks,” Ellie murmured, lifting her gaze to meet his.
She picked up the black phone and restored it to factory settings.
“You’re not curious what was on my phone?” he asked.
“Dual-boot systems,” she replied flatly.
“Nothing worth curiosity.”
“Cautious,” he said with a faint smile.
“Good habit.”
About ten minutes later, Patrick returned, slightly out of breath.
“New card.”
Tyler placed the SIM in his palm and extended it toward Ellie.
“It works worldwide.”
She reached out and pinched the card between her fingertips.
The cool brush of her skin sent a faint tingle through his palm.
As she installed the SIM, his hand lingered in midair, reluctant to withdraw.
Patrick frowned silently and turned away to resume guard duty.
“So…” Tyler finally said, pulling his hand back.
“Could you stop being mad at me?”
“It’s fine,” she replied, her tone subtly different.
“You speak the Willow Creek dialect?” His eyes lit up.
“A little.” She nodded.
It was her first language.
“Interesting.” His interest sharpened visibly.
“That makes things convenient for us… if we date in the future.”
Ellie lowered her head slightly.
Her expression shifted.
Date?!
