Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After Prison
Chapter 628

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Chapter 628 Act

The man in the cap watched Christopher and Rachel as they walked away, his gaze lingering for a few moments before he slowly shifted his attention.

He had an air about him that suggested he was trouble- someone one didn't want to mess with.

"I don't know her," he said flatly.

His companion raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You don't know her? You were staring at her for ages!"

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After a moment of contemplation, the sidekick continued, "That guy's a rich kid, looks like Christopher from the Powell family. They've been doing business with us for a while.

"But those Powell boys? They're always at each other's throats. You know how it is with these high-society families-everything seems fine on the surface, but it's a cutthroat game underneath." As he spoke, he lit up a cigarette, the smoke curling into the air.

Meanwhile, Rachel stumbled slightly in her high heels, and the man in the cap leaned forward as if to rush over.

But then, something seemed to hold him back.

Christopher quickly bent down to check on Rachel. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Chapter 628 Act

"Hey! What are you doing?" Rachel exclaimed, wide-eyed.

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"Your ankle's twisted, and you can't walk. I'm taking you to the car."

In the sunlight, the gold-rimmed glasses on Christopher's nose. glinted, making his eyes sparkle.

He smiled, not giving Rachel a chance to protest as he placed her gently in the passenger seat.

"Should I take you to the hospital?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, I'm not going. I want to go back to

the orchestra!"

With the window down, everything happening inside the car was

visible from outside.

The man in the cap watched as Christopher gently massaged Rachel's injured ankle, his expression filled with concern.

"Fine, no hospital. How about I grab some ointment for you on the way back to the orchestra?" Christopher suggested, leaning closer and pulling Rachel into his embrace.

"You know, Rachel, I've been thinking about you a lot these past few days. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you."

From a distance, it was hard to hear their conversation, but the sight of them embracing in the car suggested a level of intimacy.

Rachel felt a mix of disbelief and discomfort.

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She barely knew Christopher, and their previous interactions had been forced.

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She mused, "But then again, if he's capable of doing something like that to Felix just because I asked... maybe he could be a solid ally for me.

For the moment, it would not be prudent to burn bridges with Christopher.

After the embarrassment at the competition, I need something

to hold onto."

She hesitated but didn't push him away.

Seeing Rachel relax a bit, Christopher boldly cupped her face.

He leaned in and kissed her softly.

Rachel felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

Luckily, Christopher pulled back after just a few seconds.

"Let's get you back to the orchestra, and I'll apply some ointment for you. Then we can..." His voice trailed off, heavy with implications.

"Not necessary! Just take me back, and don't follow me inside!" Rachel insisted, cutting him off.

"Why not?"

Rachel shot him a look. "The orchestra is full of people. What if someone sees us?"

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Christopher dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "So that's what you're worried about. Come over to my place, or perhaps we can go out..." "But, Christopher! I'm exhausted. I really don't feel like it today."

'Christopher, sensing her frustration, quickly replied, "Alright,

I'll take you to get some ointment first."

As they drove off, Rachel fastened her seatbelt, and the car rolled past the man in the cap, who remained a silent observer.

Christopher casually slowed the car, stealing a glance at the man in the cap before quickly averting his gaze, feigning indifference.

The vehicle disappeared from the man's line of sight.

A few minutes later, the sidekick spoke up, "Andy, you still watching? The car's already gone."

Only then did the man pull his gaze away.

The sidekick said, shaking his head, "What's the deal with Christopher? Isn't he getting married soon? I think the wedding's in less than two weeks."

"Yeah, but that woman doesn't look like his fiancée. If Ms. Clarke finds out about this, it'll be trouble."

""Ms. Clarke?"

"Christopher's fiancée. I think her name's Emilia Clarke. I saw her once, and she's pretty easy on the eyes."

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The sidekick smirked, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "And let's be real, she's got to be at least a 36D! Hey, wait-Andy, why are you suddenly walking away? I'm not done yet!"

Back at the competition venue, Meryl shook off her shock, trying to regain her composure.

Rachel's push had startled her, though she hadn't been physically hurt.

But with the live broadcast and all the unexpected events, she had to hold it together for the award ceremony, not wanting to

cause a scene.

As soon as the ceremony wrapped up, Meryl slipped backstage, only to be met by a pair of strong hands gripping her firmly.

Startled, she looked up to see Chandler, who was breathless and clearly just arrived.

He had been following the live stream of the tense moments and had intended to be there in person to witness everything, but work had delayed him.

As soon as Chandler finished his tasks, he rushed over, glued to his phone the whole way. When he saw Rachel collide with Meryl on screen, he had almost wished he could jump through the screen to catch her.

A twenty-minute drive turned into a frantic sprint that took just seven or eight minutes.

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He arrived, bouquet in hand, though the flowers were a bit disheveled from his hurried pace.

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"Should we go to the hospital?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Meryl nodded.

At over six months pregnant, she was much more cautious than she had been in the early stages.

It was better to get checked out and ease her mind.

Just then, Casey approached. "Meryl, Mr. Herty wants to throw you a celebration party."

It was a chance to properly introduce everyone.

After all, they were fellow students, yet they had never met formally.

Meryl looked at him, a hint of worry in her eyes. "Casey, please let him know I'm not feeling well. I don't want to trouble him with a celebration right now."

Casey's gaze dropped to her belly. "Did you strain yourself?"

Meryl nodded. "Maybe a little."

His expression turned serious. "Then you should definitely go! I'll let Mr. Herty know."

Meryl smiled gratefully, "You've helped me a lot today. Let me take you out for dinner sometime. Don't reject."

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needed before the performance.

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"Sounds good to me," Casey replied, glancing at Chandler and nodding at him.

They'd crossed paths before; the cello Meryl was using now was one Chandler had bought from Casey for a pretty penny. Artists, by nature, carried an air of pride their instruments were their inseparable partners, never to be entrusted to another.

Except, naturally, for those like Chandler, who made their mark through monetary means.

Even those artists with such lofty pursuits must navigate the mundane realities of everyday life, so they needed money. Write your comment