Chapter 111 Not Tonight
As the words escaped her mouth, Sebastian almost dropped her to the ground. "What about it?"
Really!
She smiled, wrapped her clothes tightly, and leaned closer to him for warmth. "Very well. You are not missing any chance to insult me; it is in line with your character. When you get tired of playing, remember to tell me right away. I'm ready with the divorce papers waiting for you."
'Damn stupid woman, always talking about divorce!' Sebastian cursed inwardly.
Dario's black Bentley pulled over on the side of the road. Seeing Sebastian carrying Brooklyn out, he opened the back door, and Sebastian's arm slipped, throwing Brooklyn inside.
He did this action so effortlessly.
Sebastian didn't sit in the back seat but slammed the door shut. "Dario, collect everyone's phones at the venue and properly handle the people who took photos today."
Dario nodded. "Yes, Mr. Kingsley!"
His clothes got wet from Brooklyn's wet clothes, and as the wind blew, he felt a chill.
'This stupid woman is probably even colder.'
At that thought, he frowned, feeling very unhappy.
"So, Mr. Kingsley, who's driving? You seem to have had some drinks."
Damn it!
Sebastian took out his phone. "Quinn."
Sebastian efficiently delegated the previous tasks to Quinn and told him that if this matter wasn't handled cleanly, he might not have a good time at the Kingsley family banquet.
Dario started the car.
"Turn on the heater," Sebastian ordered.
"Yes, Sir."
"Turn the temperature up to the maximum," Sebastian added.
Brooklyn and Sebastian sat in the back seat, and the leather seats were soaked by her.
She moved to the side, afraid that Sebastian's pants would get wet when he stood up later.
"Mr. Kingsley, where are we going?" Dario inquired.
Sebastian glanced at her with disdain. "Where do you live?"
'Is he going to take me home?' Brooklyn thought.
Brooklyn mentioned the name of her residential area.
Sebastian didn't look away. "Go to the place she mentioned."
Dario replied, "Yes, Mr. Kingsley."
Mr. Kingsley was going to take Mrs. Kingsley back to her place. This was the first time in three years.
The two people in the back seat were silent, but Dario, who was driving, felt like the world had become a better place.
The black Bentley drove into a mid-range residential area, parked under a block of units, and Sebastian looked at the environment of the neighborhood. The streetlights were dim, there was little greenery, and almost no outdoor recreational facilities.
Sebastian couldn't fathom why she would rather live here than in a villa!
"Get out of the car."
Brooklyn pushed open the car door and got out barefoot. Unexpectedly, Sebastian also got out.
"Why did you get out?" she asked.
Sebastian looked up at the apartment building where she lived, his thin lips devoid of a smile. "Is this how you repay me for saving your life?"
"Sebastian, this is my apartment, not your mansion. There aren't many rooms."
In three years, Sebastian had never shared a room with her. Her single apartment didn't have a guest room.
"You worry a lot," He sneered, then turned around and ordered Dario, "Come pick me up tomorrow and bring a clean set of clothes."
"Okay, Mr. Kingsley!"
As if afraid they would regret it, Dario quickly got back into the car and drove away.
Brooklyn hadn't come back to her senses yet when he picked her up again. His broad embrace and the familiar scent of tequila were like a drug, drawing her in.
In the elevator, Brooklyn watched the changing numbers without any change in her breathing or heartbeat, but Sebastian's breathing and heartbeat were all out of rhythm.
"Sebastian, I really can't figure out what game you're playing." She blurted out.
"The one playing games is you," Sebastian retorted.
With a decisive statement, they fell into silence.
The elevator doors opened, and Sebastian strode out of the elevator and stood in front of her door. "Brooklyn, coming from the Mitchell family and now living in a place like this, what game are you trying to play?"
"I like living here!"
"Very well, open the door."
Wait, open the door?
Her bag, phone, and keys were all left at the banquet.
Brooklyn gritted her teeth, unable to hide her embarrassment. "I didn't bring my keys."
Sebastian's expression darkened. Brooklyn's door didn't have a password; it required a key. But tonight, he had to get in!
"Get the property manager to bring a spare key."
Brooklyn was even more silent this time. Last time, the keyhole was blocked, and she lied to the property manager, saying she was the owner. They must have found out the truth by now.
"I don't have a spare key!"
Sebastian let go of her arm and put her down, his face expressionless. "Brooklyn, don't you dare to play this trick in front of me! You have three minutes."
Brooklyn bit her lip. "Give me the phone."
A call was made, and the property manager came up.
To save face, Brooklyn didn't directly explain the situation. When the property manager arrived and saw a man with an extraordinary appearance standing next to Brooklyn, he immediately smiled and said, "Ms. Mitchell, is this your husband? Nice to meet you for the first time."
"Um, I forgot my keys. Can you help me open the door?"
This time, Brooklyn couldn't muster her usual defiance.
The property manager didn't expose her in front of Sebastian, merely cooperatively opened the door, and smiled. "Remember to bring an extra key next time. At least two people should have one. The previous girl who lived here often forgot her keys!"
Sebastian furrowed his brows tightly. This rundown house was rented?
But it didn't matter; soon, the owner of this house would change.
Inside, Sebastian saw Brooklyn's personal space. The house wasn't old, but the decoration was rough.
Luckily, she was good at organizing the rooms.
In a vase on the dining table, lilies were blooming with two roses nestled among them. It was a simple bouquet, but Sebastian could sense a strange yet comforting scent.
It was the scent of home.
She was wearing slippers, her slender figure freely moving around her territory. Sebastian stood in the living room, his gaze indifferent and distant.
She poured herself a glass of hot water to warm her hands and said slowly and seriously, "Sebastian, if you want to stay here tonight, be prepared."
Sebastian wanted to shut her up when he saw her talking non-stop.
"I don't have men's slippers.
"I don't have men's pajamas.
"I don't have men's shampoo, towels, or body wash.
"I don't have extra toothbrushes."
After Brooklyn said four or five 'I don't have' statements, Sebastian's patience was worn thin. He coldly grabbed Brooklyn's shoulder. "Brooklyn, you're asking for trouble tonight."
Brooklyn met his eyes directly. "Even if you strangle me, those things won't magically appear."
Leaning in closer, Sebastian said in a threatening tone, "There's one thing you do have."
His eyes and tone were filled with menace.
Anxiously, she asked, "What?"
He pinched her chin with his long fingers and smirked. "A bed."
"Sebastian, what are you doing?"
Taking a step forward, Sebastian took her step back. She retreated until her back was against the bedroom door. "Not tonight!"
"I'm up for it every night!"
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