Chapter 140

Cynthia’s sharp mind froze for a moment. Quickly recovering, she stepped back. “Preston, I only slapped you once, and it was for your own good. You didn’t have to retaliate like this,” she said, her usual boldness gone, replaced by regret. She really shouldn’t have slapped him; it might have rattled the boy.

Preston’s expression was more serious than ever. “Cynthia, I’m not joking. I really like you.”

Cynthia was speechless. She’d never been confessed to before. In her life, she’d only dated two men: Filip and Jonathan.

She and Filip had been childhood friends; their relationship had developed naturally. Holding hands was a mutual understanding; Filip never formally confessed.

Her relationship with Jonathan was even more unconventional; they slept together on their first meeting. She later became his sugar mama. A confession wasn't necessary in that dynamic, and even if there had been one, Cynthia wouldn't have taken it seriously.

Now, for the first time, a young man was genuinely confessing to her. His eyes sparkled like stars, his youthful innocence evident, yet he possessed a surprising sincerity. His nervousness was apparent in his ears, as red as a fiery sunset. His fluffy, soft blonde hair made him look like a fearless little lion—cute, yet with a natural air of authority.

“Preston, I’m married. I have a husband,” Cynthia responded immediately, feeling the need for a complete and immediate refusal. It was the perfect excuse, requiring no further explanation.

“Cynthia, I know you’re single now,” Preston countered.

“Even if I were single, I wouldn’t consider you,” Cynthia replied.

“Why?” Preston asked.

“No reason. I just don’t like you,” Cynthia said, feeling uneasy. She’d always seen Preston as a younger brother, or even a child. His confession had completely taken her aback.

Seeing the hopeful excitement in his eyes, Cynthia knew she had to shatter his fantasy. It felt harsh for such a simple, privileged young man, but she knew she had to be firm.

Cynthia steadied herself. “Preston, I don’t like you. To me, you’re not even a man, just a kid. Stop daydreaming and go back to your rich boy life. Goodbye.”

Decisively turning, Cynthia headed for her car.

Preston looked dejected for a few seconds before shouting after her retreating figure, “Cynthia, I love you! I’m not giving up easily!”

Cynthia quickened her pace as she heard him add, “Also, I’m 21 now. I am a man, not a kid!”

Walking too fast in her high heels, Cynthia twisted her ankle. Preston, seeing this from behind, chuckled quietly. Cynthia sped off in her car. A black Rolls-Royce then pulled up where Preston stood.

Preston got into the passenger seat. Jack was driving, and Jonathan sat in the back. Preston's own car was parked nearby; Jonathan had clearly heard everything.

Upon entering the car, Preston was surprised. “Uncle, what are you doing here?”

Jonathan’s face was calm. “Just passing by.”

Preston seemed in a good mood, rubbing his cheek.

Seeing Preston’s lovestruck look, Jonathan teased, “Does your face still hurt?”

Preston, unfazed, replied, “Uncle, did you see everything? She didn’t hit me hard at all. Don’t let her tough exterior fool you. She pulled her punches; look, there’s not even a mark.” He leaned closer to Jonathan, as if getting slapped was something to boast about.

“Stay away from her,” Jonathan said, leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, clearly irritated.

Undeterred, Preston exclaimed, “Uncle, I confessed to Cynthia! Did you see it?”

Jonathan remained silent.

“Did you see it or not?” Preston persisted.

“Are you seriously that happy after getting rejected?” Jonathan’s voice grew colder.

Preston chuckled, rubbing his hair. “I never expected her to say yes. She’s never seen me as a man, just a kid. Confessing was just to remind her I’m a man, not a little boy—that’s the most important thing. I’m not giving up; this is just the start.” He continued excitedly detailing the confession and Cynthia’s reaction.

Jonathan frowned, finding it all incredibly annoying.

Preston continued, “Uncle, did you notice how shy she was? She definitely blushed! I still have a chance! What type do you think she likes? If she isn’t into the gentle, obedient type, I can totally be her little wild guy! I’ve got an eight-pack; I wonder if she’s into that.”

“Enough, Preston!” Jonathan snapped. “Get out of the car!”

Preston was unceremoniously ejected. He thought, “What’s up with Uncle? It seems like he doesn’t like her. Every time she’s mentioned, he gets really angry.”

Preston felt disappointed. He hadn’t expected his uncle, like his mother, to care so much about family background and status. But he didn't care. At 21, experiencing a crush for the first time, he wouldn't give up easily.

Cynthia had suffered terrible headaches for days. Preston kept appearing at the TV station, bringing flowers and homemade lunches. Her coworkers assumed she had a new boyfriend. Mr. Bennett, her previous escort, hadn’t been seen for a while. The Burning Rose incident had shocked everyone, but everyone knew that love in wealthy families rarely lasted. They wondered how Jonathan could focus his attention on only one woman. Cynthia was beautiful, but her background wasn’t a match for the wealthiest man in the country. Previous gossip had been confirmed by Cynthia’s calm admission that they’d broken up. What surprised everyone was how quickly Cynthia found a “boy toy” afterward.