Chapter 250 I’ll Remember This
As Tilda walked past Preston, he suddenly spoke up. “Tilda, I think we need to talk.”
Even Daphne was stunned, staring at Preston in disbelief. “Preston, you…”
“Mom, let me handle this. I’ll take care of it,” Preston said, shooting Daphne a look.
But Tilda didn’t pay Preston any attention. She walked straight to her Porsche Cayenne, opened the door, got in, shut it, and started the engine–all in one smooth motion.
Preston rushed to her driver’s side window, knocking hard. “Tilda, I said we need to talk. Didn’t you hear me?”
“There’s no need. I barely know you, and there’s nothing to talk about.” Tilda pressed the gas, ready to drive off.
Preston couldn’t believe how cold she was! He thought—she’d sleep with anyone if it helped her get ahead. She’d slept with the professor just to steal Kyla’s spot in a competition. She tried seducing Jude to marry into the Bells, and when that wasn’t enough, she started flirting with Jarrett. Why? If she wanted to marry into the Bells and climb the social ladder, wouldn’t seducing her own fiancé, Preston, be the easiest move? Why would she rather chase after Jude and Jarrett instead of Preston?
It was like Tilda was saying—Preston wasn’t even as good as Jarrett, who was all talk. It was like she’d slapped him across the face, over and over, and it stung—bad. Desperate, Preston stepped right in front of Tilda’s car. “Tilda, I really need to talk to you about something important!” “Not moving?”
Tilda’s eyes turned icy. She took her foot off the brake and pressed down on the gas, ready to drive straight at him. At the last second, Daphne cried out in panic, “Preston!” Preston snapped out of it and dove to the side. He tumbled across the pavement, looking completely pathetic. Tilda didn’t even glance at him. She tossed out the word “coward” and sped away in her Porsche.
“Damn it! That bitch!” Preston was so angry, he nearly ground his teeth to dust.
“Preston, are you alright? Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding! We should go to the hospital…” “No, Mom, it’s just a scratch. I’ll clean it up myself.” Preston stared at his wounds. Tilda… I’ll remember this. One day, I’ll make you bow down to me willingly! I’ll prove to you just how wrong you were—Preston is better than Jude or Jarrett! Night fell.
Tilda was taking a shower. Just then, her phone buzzed with a message—from Jude.
Jude texted, “Want to grab something to eat tonight?” Tilda replied, “Sure! Bring it over. I’m almost done with my shower.” Almost done with her shower….
Jude was waiting downstairs at Tilda’s apartment building. His lips pressed tight, thinking about Tilda in the shower—bare skin and all. He coughed, trying to shake off the thought. For someone usually as cold as ice, he was feeling things he never expected. No matter what, Jude was still a normal guy. He hadn’t felt this way before, only because he’d never met the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Now, with Tilda—his light—he couldn’t help but fall from his high, untouchable pedestal. He was no longer the emotionless, untouchable god. He was just a man, moved by love, feeling joy, anger, and sorrow.
“Boss,” Vassal, his driver, glanced at Jude in the rearview mirror. Hmm… How should he put it? Jude’s expression was changing more than usual. Never seen the boss like this before…
Jude waited in the car for half an hour before finally bringing the food up to Tilda. “Come in and sit,” she invited.
These days, Tilda and Jude were pretty close—almost like good friends. Jude stepped inside, feeling totally at ease, like he was at home. Or maybe, this was the only place he truly felt relaxed. Sure, her apartment was tiny compared to Jude’s sprawling mansion that covered miles. But here… Tilda was here. It was a place that felt safe.
Tilda unpacked the food Jude brought, plated it, and added some chilled, sugared tangerine slices sprinkled with sour cherry powder. “Try this with me. Last time I mixed it with tangerines, it tasted even better.” “Alright.”
Jude picked up a fork and tried a bite. “It’s pretty good.” “You’re so half-hearted! You have to really taste the food. Trust my foodie standards, okay?” Tilda teased him. Then she stuck a toothpick into a tangerine slice and held it out to Jude. Jude paused, a little surprised. “What are you waiting for? Open up,” Tilda urged. Under her encouragement, Jude automatically opened his mouth. Then she stuck a toothpick into a tangerine slice and held it out to Jude. Jude paused, a little surprised. “What are you waiting for? Open up,” Tilda urged. Under her encouragement, Jude automatically opened his mouth.