Chapter 556 Kiss Under the Moon
Emma took a deep breath, her voice shaky but determined, "Why? Why did you do this?"
George slowly turned around, his expression complicated and unreadable in the moonlight. "Because I love you. I never stopped."
Emma's heart tightened at his simple answer. She looked at George, the man who had once captivated her, and suddenly realized that no matter how many years had passed or how much pain she had endured, her feelings for him had never truly disappeared.
Sensing her hesitation, George stepped closer. "Emma, give me a chance to make up for my past mistakes."
Emma's fingers gripped the window frame tightly, her knuckles turning white. She looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar figure in the moonlight, her mind in turmoil. Logic told her to turn away, but her legs felt rooted to the spot.
"Wait for me," she heard herself say, her voice so soft it was almost carried away by the night breeze.
But George heard it. His body visibly stiffened, then his face lit up with incredulous joy. Emma turned away from the window and hurried downstairs, barefoot. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from her chest, each step feeling like she was walking on clouds.
As she pushed open the back door, the night breeze carried the scent of roses from the garden. George was still standing there, bathed in moonlight. Hearing her footsteps, he turned slightly, watching her approach.
"You came," George's voice was low and tender, with an unmistakable tremor.
Emma stopped three steps away from George. The close distance allowed her to see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and his slightly pale complexion.
Time had left many marks on the once confident and spirited George.
"Why did you come?" she asked again, her voice choked with emotion.
George took a step forward, his long fingers tentatively reaching out. When they touched her arm, he flinched as if burned, then firmly grasped her wrist.
"Because here," George placed Emma's hand on his chest, "it always hurts."
She felt the strong heartbeat under her palm, and her eyes filled with tears again. She could feel his heart beating as fast as hers.
"Emma," George's voice was hoarse, "I know I can't undo my mistakes, but please give me a chance to spend the rest of my life making amends."
In the moonlight, his expression was almost reverent.
The walls Emma had built around her heart crumbled, and tears finally flowed. She nodded, choking back sobs, and in the next moment, she was pulled into a warm embrace.
George's arms wrapped around her tightly, almost suffocating her. His chin rested on the top of her head, his breath hot and rapid.
"Thank you, thank you," George kept repeating, his voice filled with incredulous joy.
Emma could feel his trembling. This man, who had once been a force to be reckoned with in the business world, was now as fragile as a child. She slowly raised her arms and hugged his waist. This simple action made George shudder, then he held her even tighter.
When he lowered his head to find her lips, Emma didn't resist. The kiss was urgent and passionate, filled with years of longing and regret. George's lips were cool but soft, cautiously touching hers as if she were a delicate treasure.
But soon, restraint was broken. His kiss became forceful and deep, one hand gripping the back of her head, the other holding her waist tightly, as if he wanted to merge her into his very being. Emma passively endured the almost predatory kiss, tasting the salty tang of tears... she didn't know whose they were.
In the moonlight, the two figures embraced tightly, the shadows of the sycamore trees enveloping them, isolating them from the world.
Michael stood in the shadows of the garden, his car keys digging into his palm. He had come to see Emma but hadn't expected to witness this scene.
The moonlight clearly illuminated the kissing couple, and Emma's blissful expression pierced his heart. Michael slowly retreated until his back hit the cold wall.
He had protected Emma for over three years, watching her slowly emerge from despair, thinking he finally had a chance to win her heart.
But George had easily reclaimed her heart.
His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. Michael took a deep breath and turned away. His steps quickened until he was almost running out of the Stuart Villa.
The engine roared as Michael drove away at high speed. The windows were wide open, the night wind rushing in, but it couldn't dispel the pain in his chest.
The neon lights of Nightfall Bar stood out in the darkness. Michael parked haphazardly by the roadside and strode inside.
"Whiskey, neat," he said, his voice hoarse as he sat at the bar.
The bartender recognized the regular and silently poured a glass, sliding it over. Michael downed it in one gulp, the burning liquid searing his throat but failing to numb the pain in his heart.
"Another."
One glass after another, the scene before him began to blur. Michael loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.
Alcohol coursed through his veins, and Michael's stern features gradually took on a drunken haze. His long fingers loosely gripped the glass, his collar slightly open, revealing his defined collarbone. In the dim light, his deep-set eyes appeared even more striking, his lips glistening with the allure of alcohol.
"Sir, are you alone?" A woman in a revealing outfit approached, her fingertips lightly brushing his arm.
Michael didn't even lift his eyelids, coldly uttering, "Get lost."
The woman was intimidated by his aura and left reluctantly. But soon, someone else targeted the dangerous-looking handsome man.
"Isn't this Mr. Russell?" A slick-haired man approached with a drink, eyeing Michael with a smirk. "Why are you drinking alone?"
Michael didn't even spare him a glance, continuing to down another glass of strong liquor. The alcohol burned his throat, but couldn't extinguish the fire in his heart.
"I heard you stole George's woman?" The man persisted, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder.
Before he could finish, Michael turned abruptly, grabbing the man's throat and slamming him onto the bar. The sound of breaking glass caused a commotion.
"Who gave you permission to mention him?" Michael's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes flashing with fury.
The man's face turned blue from the chokehold, yet he still provocatively said, "What, did I say something wrong? You, Russell family people are just..."
"Shut up!" Michael tightened his grip, his knuckles turning white from the force.
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