Chapter 299: New Friends

With all the chaos from last night, my mood never fully came back. Even after Riley was dragged out of my house, I kept thinking about her face, her stubborn voice, and the way Harlan’s temper could turn cold without warning.I couldn’t relax.

"Lewis," I started, my voice low, "your friend... he doesn’t seem completely unreliable, but I’m worried he might "

I didn’t finish.

Lewis bent down, slipped one arm behind my knees and the other around my back, and lifted me like I weighed nothing. The sudden closeness made my breath catch. His scent wrapped around me instantly, warm and steady, calming the panic in my chest.

"He’s not good at loving," Lewis said as he carried me upstairs, "but he won’t truly hurt her."

Then, as if we were discussing something as simple as dinner, he added, "And tomorrow, change the password."

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

I had given Riley the door code because in my mind, my home was her home too. She had shared her parents with me in the same way, like we were already family long before blood ever mattered.

Still... her timing last night had been terrible.

When we reached the bedroom, Lewis locked the door behind us. The click of the lock did something to me. It wasn’t just safety.

It was territory.

It was his quiet promise that no one would cross this line.

He came close, eyes dark but gentle. "Elena... no one can disturb us now."

Lately, Lewis had been getting more intense. More needy. More hungry for me in a way that made my skin warm even before he touched me.

And I didn’t mind.

To be wanted by the man I loved fully, openly felt like healing.

We gave in to each other until the night blurred into early morning. When I finally lay beside him, chest rising slowly, I saw a message on my phone.

From Riley.

She said she was going to the Whites’ residence tomorrow to get close to Whitney for me.

My heart sank.

I sat up too fast and called her immediately.

Riley answered half-asleep, her voice thick with irritation. "Sis, do you know the time? You two have a sex life, but I don’t!"

"Riley," I whispered harshly, "stay away from the Carlyn brothers. Don’t get involved with them. They’re dangerous."

"Elena, relax," she mumbled. "I know what I’m doing. And Harlan will be there too."

"That doesn’t make it safe," I said, my forehead creasing. "Keep your guard up. Those two are not as simple as they look. If anything happens, call me immediately. And for now, don’t let people see us moving together too much. If Taylor notices a pattern, he’ll start suspecting you."

"Got it," she said, already fading. "Now go back to sleep."

She hung up.

I stared at my phone, feeling helpless.

A moment later, Lewis came out of the bathroom, water still clinging to his hair. He lifted the blanket and slid into bed, pulling me into his arms like he didn’t want even a breath of space between us.

"Don’t worry," he murmured against my hair. "Riley isn’t as clueless as you think. Didn’t you once tell Lena to let her grow? You care about Riley more than Lena does."

I let out a small laugh, even though my nerves were still tight. "It’s just a habit. I worry. If we have kids one day, I’ll probably be worse."

Lewis’s arm tightened around me. His fingers slowly combed through my hair, soothing, claiming.

"Then I’ll calm you down every time," he said, voice husky. "Sleep."

And with him holding me, I finally did.

The next day, I woke up to a surprise.

Just yesterday, I had mentioned wanting to visit the Doltons. Today, Lewis had already arranged it.

Maybe he wanted to make things clear to them, to Tiffany, to anyone still pretending they had a chance. Maybe he also wanted me to see for myself that his loyalty wasn’t just words.

Either way, the calm confidence in his actions made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

After Luke, I finally understood what steady love looked like.

It was Lewis.

The only thing that stung was his act. The way he still had to appear helpless in front of outsiders. I couldn’t walk beside him the way I wanted. Not openly.

Still, when his car pulled up to the Doltons’ villa, he looked unbothered, like nothing in this world could shake him.

Tiffany was already waiting outside.

She looked stunning, dressed like she had been expecting him all night. She opened the car door with a bright smile, eyes fixed on Lewis.

"Lewis, you..."

Then she saw me.

Her smile froze.

I smiled back, sweet and bright. "It’s me. Surprised?"

Her expression sharpened. "What are you doing here? You’re not welcome."

Lewis answered calmly, cutting through her tone. "I brought Riley to visit your father."

Tiffany’s jaw tightened. She clearly wanted to stop us, but she couldn’t not without disrespecting Lewis directly.

I stepped out and took in the property.

The villa had a traditional courtyard design, but roses were everywhere. Bright blooms climbed over white walls and crawled around black roof tiles. It was beautiful in a dramatic way like something pure being wrapped tightly in temptation.

I pushed Lewis inside.

Peter Dolton was in a tea room, writing quietly. The atmosphere was peaceful, like the outside world couldn’t touch it.

The moment he heard the wheelchair, he looked up.

"Lewis?" His face lit up. "Come, come. Look at this."

Then his gaze shifted to me, and he paused, studying my face like he was matching it to a memory.

"This is Ms. Gardner, isn’t it?" he asked.

Lewis’s hand squeezed mine. "Peter, this is my wife, Riley. Riley, this is Peter the man who saved my life."

I blinked, surprised.

I expected Peter to be loud, proud, maybe even arrogant especially with Tiffany acting the way she did.

But Peter was graceful. Humble. Kind-eyed.

There was a calm strength in him, like an elder who didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

"Peter," I greeted softly.

He put down his pen quickly. "You should have told me you were bringing her today. I didn’t even know her preferences." He turned slightly, calling out, "Tiffany, tell your aunt to add two more dishes!"

"It’s okay," I said quickly. "I’m not picky. I can eat anything."

Peter waved it off. "Nonsense. It’s your first time here, and you’re Lewis’s wife. How could we treat you casually?"

His warmth felt real.

Tiffany, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide her disdain. "She said she doesn’t need anything, so why add more dishes? She’s not that important."

Peter’s face tightened. "Brat..."

Then he looked at me with an apologetic smile. "Ms. Gardner, forgive her. I only have one daughter. I spoiled her too much."

"Peter, you’re too kind," I replied.

He gave Tiffany a firm look. "Go."

Tiffany huffed and left, shooting me a glare on her way out.

Lewis’s eyes followed her only briefly before turning back to Peter. "What are you writing?"

"An old poem," Peter said, amused. "I wrote the first part. The rest is yours."

He handed Lewis the brush.

I watched Lewis take it.

This was my first time seeing him write like that. His hand was steady. His strokes were bold and clean, like he didn’t hesitate in anything he did.

Even the way he wrote felt like him controlled, powerful, precise.

I couldn’t help staring.

How could a man be this good at everything?

No wonder Tiffany had been obsessed. His charm wasn’t just his status. It was the way he carried himself, like he belonged at the top.

"Lewis," I said honestly, "your writing is amazing."

He finished the last stroke, then pulled a fresh sheet toward him.

He wrote quickly, confidently:

There’s a beauty I’ve seen, whose image stays in my mind. One day apart, and I miss her madly.

My face heated.

"Lewis," I whispered, embarrassed, "Peter is still here."

Lewis didn’t care. "He’s seen everything."

Peter chuckled warmly. "Yes. I was young once too. You two have a strong bond."

I gave a small nod, trying to hide my smile.

And then a woman’s voice came from behind us, gentle and clear.

"Lewis’s here? I cut some fruit."

My heart gave a strange little jolt.

That voice.

It was the same voice I heard at the gazebo last night.

I turned quickly.

A woman walked in wearing a white dress embroidered with magnolias. A matching flower was tucked into her hair. Her features were striking deep-set eyes, a graceful mouth, the kind of beauty that felt both soft and dangerous.

Lewis glanced toward her and said calmly, "This is Amber Dolton, Tiffany’s aunt."

As I studied her, I realized she was studying me too.

Not casually.

Closely.

Like she was measuring something she couldn’t name.

"Amber," I greeted, keeping my smile polite.

But inside, that strange feeling returned quiet, sharp, and uneasy like my instincts were warning me before my mind could understand why.