Chapter 153 Ms. Grey is Truly a Cultured Person
The vibe between them shifted suddenly, making Katniss super uneasy.
Her heart was racing, and she couldn't help but sneak a peek at him.
Their eyes locked, and he broke the silence first, easing her tension.
"How's your mom doing? Now that they've got that new drug, is she getting better?" Tristan asked.
The fact that he remembered Sophia's treatment plan caught Katniss off guard. She forced a smile and said, "She hasn't woken up yet, but there are signs she might soon!"
Tristan's face grew more serious. After a moment, he said, "That's good."
Some bad memories stirred up their emotions. Katniss could never forget the scene of Bella causing a ruckus at the hospital a year ago.
She took a deep breath and switched topics. "Nightfall City has such a nice, spring-like climate all year round. The air's way better than in Velvet City."
"Yeah, for sure," Tristan replied. Just as he was about to say more, his phone rang.
Before he could grab his phone, Katniss quickly let go of him and walked a few steps ahead.
His eyes darkened as he answered the call from Eudora, who was asking about Aaron's condition at the hospital.
Tristan explained something in a low voice, his deep voice reaching Katniss's ears.
She didn't walk far, so she couldn't hear the details, but she could tell it was a woman on the other end.
By the time the call ended, they were already at the front door.
The warm moment they had was gone, leaving Tristan a bit annoyed.
Katniss didn't say anything either. She quietly made dinner, cleaned up after eating, and then said, "I'm going to rest," before heading to her room.
Sitting on the sofa, Tristan crossed his legs and watched her walk away, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Once inside, she didn't plan to come out again, but she found there was no water when she was taking a shower.
She had to come out to figure out why. She opened the door a crack and saw that Tristan wasn't in the living room.
She quietly went to the kitchen and found that the faucet had water, but her bathroom didn't.
After going back to her room, she thought for a bit and sent Tristan a message: [My bathroom shower seems to be broken.]
She was about to send another message asking if they could call a repairman.
But Tristan replied with one sentence: [On my way.]
She was stunned. In less than ten seconds, Tristan pushed open her door.
The awkward part was that she was wrapped in a towel, barely covering her thighs, her long legs very noticeable.
Tristan's eyes darkened a few shades, his throat tightening.
"Ms. Grey, you really are a cultured person." He closed the door, unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, rolled them up, and walked over slowly.
His voice was rough, eyes filled with barely-contained desire.
It had been a year since they were apart, and that night hadn't been enough for him.
"Back then, I was so straightforward and clumsy, didn't even know how to make an excuse," Tristan added.
"No," she said, realizing he misunderstood why she called him over.
Katniss's ears turned red, the blush spreading from her neck to her collarbone.
Her skin, lit by the bright light, showed even the fine hairs, reflecting in Tristan's eyes, an extreme temptation.
He turned off the main light, leaving only a dim glow around the ceiling, and as he walked over, he unbuttoned his shirt.
His muscular chest was faintly visible, the scent of hormones overwhelming.
Katniss lost her ability to think again until she fell into his arms.
He pressed her down onto the bed, her petite body sinking into the thin blanket, and he pulled off her towel.
The coolness seeped into her skin, making her shiver and come to her senses, her hands pressing against his chest.
"Can you not do this?" Katniss asked.
"What?" Tristan raised an eyebrow, their noses touching, breaths mingling.
His raised eyebrow made his eyes narrow. "You're not proactive enough. If I were like you, wouldn't I be unsatisfied?"
Katniss didn't even dare to breathe heavily, whispering, "I didn't pay you, this doesn't count as keeping you!"
"That's your problem. I got on the bed, and you don't pay?" Tristan's fingers traced up her neck, pinching her sharp chin. "I rarely made you ask for money before, always gave it willingly."
She gripped the thin blanket tightly, her fingertips turning white from the force.
Even if he needed funds to start a project, he still scoffed at her meager contribution.
So he was doing it on purpose.
"If you don't pay, I'll consider the service unsatisfactory. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're satisfied today," said Tristan.
He didn't care what her expression meant. The atmosphere was right, and he couldn't back down.
As he said, he was even more intense than that night.
She finally understood what he meant when he said there would be no chance to rest if working overtime at night.
Even on nights when she didn't work, he would keep her up until dawn.
Her throat was a bit hoarse, her body feeling like it had been run over by a truck.
The outside temperature was only in the fifties, and with half a window open, she still kept sweating.
When the weight on her body disappeared, she could only muster the strength to open her eyes a crack.
What she saw was his muscular chest and eight-pack abs.
She was lying on the bed, and he pulled the thin blanket that was originally around her waist up.
His rough fingers brushed across her smooth back, sending a jolt of electricity through her body.
Finally, her vision went black, and she fell into a deep sleep.
Tristan lay on his side, looking at her, his fingers gently tidying her messy hair.
Her small face was full of fatigue, her long, curly eyelashes thick and black.
Her red lips were slightly parted, glistening, and she was breathing shallowly, clearly exhausted.
If Tristan hadn't been worried about her getting too hungry, he wouldn't have woken her up at three in the afternoon.
She was in a deep sleep and woke up groggily, sitting up and pulling the strap that had slipped off her shoulder back up.
With a dazed look, she watched Tristan standing by the bed. He held a hair tie in his hand, knelt on one knee on the bed, and tied her hair up.
"Eat something before you go back to sleep," he said.
Katniss wanted to speak, but after making a hoarse sound, she gave up.
Her voice was shot from the previous night, but luckily she didn't have any classes for the next few days.
She glared at Tristan, then obediently ate a bowl of pasta.
With something in her stomach, her body regained some strength, and her throat felt much better.
Then she quietly asked, "Don't you need to go to the office?"
"No need," Tristan replied, looking energetic. He wore a white shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing a deep bite mark on his collarbone that she couldn't even remember giving him.
She wondered, 'Doesn't it hurt?'
The scratches on his back from that night were still there, and now there was a bite mark, yet he still provoked her.
Feeling a bit frustrated, she got up on her sore legs and took out two hundred dollars from her pocket.
She stuffed it into his shirt pocket. The white shirt showed the colors of the two hundred dollars, and she said hoarsely, "Payment for services!"
Seeing Tristan's face instantly darken, she smirked, feeling much less angry.
After a long while, he let out a low laugh and said through gritted teeth, "Ms. Grey, are you implying that my performance was still not enough and that I should keep trying?"
Katniss's body stiffened, and her already weak legs felt even weaker.
"Very well." He took out the two hundred dollars with two fingers, folded it, and put it in his pants pocket. "Two hundred dollars is quite a bit."
With that, he narrowed his eyes and turned to leave.
It felt like she had won, but also like she hadn't.
Katniss stared blankly at his departing figure, then lay back down on the bed to continue resting.
By evening, the room was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, casting a golden hue over the figure on the bed.
The sunlight was so bright that Katniss couldn't open her eyes. She reached out and grabbed her phone from the bedside table.
At some point, Tristan had put it on silent, and she had missed several texts and Facebook messages.
They were all about the educational institution, and Katniss replied to each one.
Then she heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching, along with voices from outside.
'Who came?' she wondered.
She turned to look and saw Saskia, whose eyes were curiously scanning the messy room.
Saskia closed the door casually and took a big step to sit beside her.
"I think you need to come clean with me," said Saskia.
Katniss instinctively pulled the thin blanket up to cover her shoulders, afraid Saskia would see the marks on her collarbone. "Come clean about what?" she asked.
Through the door, she could faintly hear the magnetic voices of the men outside. She recognized them as Tristan and Nicholas.
She instinctively lowered her voice.
This made Saskia laugh. She said, "No wonder Tristan told me to keep it short, saying you couldn't talk much. Listen to your voice, it's really hoarse."
Katniss frowned. She admitted her voice was low because it was hoarse. But for them to say it so openly was really inappropriate.
"Come clean about who made the first move between you two?" Saskia asked.
"Him," Katniss said without hesitation.
Saskia's expression became even more shocked. "To be able to get Tristan, I really admire you!" she said.
"Who told you I got him?" Katniss said exasperatedly. "Can you stop making things up?"
Ignoring everything else, she got up from the bed, grabbed some clothes, and hid in the walk-in closet to change.
The door was slightly ajar, and Saskia poked her head in, speaking righteously, "I suspect he came to Nightfall City just for you. He's only been here for two or three months, and now he's with you again. If that's not liking you, what is?"
Katniss paused in her movements, her eyes flickering.
The walk-in closet had no windows and was dimly lit, so Saskia couldn't see her expression.
But seeing her not speak, Saskia assumed she didn't believe it and added, "I heard from Nicholas that he's divorced. You don't have to worry about being called a homewrecker anymore."
Only Matilda knew about her marriage and divorce with Tristan. But from Nicholas and Saskia's tone, it seemed Tristan hadn't mentioned that he divorced her.
Since it was in the past, she didn't need to bring it up again and decided to skip over it.
"He said he wanted to sell himself to me," Katniss said quietly, lacking confidence.
This made Saskia pause for a few seconds, then laugh so hard she almost fell to the ground.
"That sounds like Tristan." She gave her assessment, then asked, "Can you afford him? What do you really think of him?"
Katniss finished changing into jeans and a shirt, then went to the bathroom to freshen up.
With her mouth full of toothpaste foam, she thought about how to answer Saskia's question.
"I gave him two hundred dollars this morning, and he took it. If he insists on selling himself, there's nothing I can do," Katniss said.
After all, he would leave eventually.
Why should she worry so much? To be honest, the experience was quite enjoyable.
"You're amazing!" Saskia gave her a thumbs up. One was bold enough to sell, the other to buy. She'd just watch to see who slipped up first.
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