Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Rachel knew that Tyrone had never allowed a single piece of others‘ belongings to enter his room, not even those from his parents. Even if someone sent him any gift, it’d end up in a specially arranged room.

The man had a territorial instinct so strong that anything from outside was forbidden to get in. Except those servants who did regular cleaning in his room, even his parents had seldom entered there..

But today, Tyrone had brought a woman’s shoes into his room. A woman’s shoes. This meant she wasn’t just any woman in Tyrone’s life; she was significant. Otherwise, he wouldn’t possibly bring ladies‘ shoes in his room.

Rachel’s face twisted into a snarl, her voice rising to a fever pitch, “You’ve got another woman, don’t you? Who is this siren?”

Tyrone’s brow furrowed in disgust. Was she trying to provoke him? He took two quick steps forward and kicked Rachel on the shin, sending her sprawling out of the room.

He had made it clear before; he had no rule against hitting a woman, especially Rachel. He couldn’t recall anyone else who churned his stomach quite like she did.

“Scram! And if you show your face here again, I swear I’ll break one of your arms.”

Mrs. York, hearing the commotion, came upstairs and found Rachel whimpering on the floor, her son’s face dark with anger, “What’s going on? What’s happened here?”

Rachel, teetering on the edge of hysteria, “Mrs. York, Tyrone’s got another woman. He’s got another woman.”

Mrs. York frowned, “Is that news?”

She knew her son didn’t touch Rachel, so it wasn’t bizarre for a young man his age to have a woman in his life.

Rachel clung desperately to Mrs. York’s hand, shrieking, “No, it’s not like that. You don’t understand.” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Mrs. York’s hand turned red from Rachel’s grip, and she shook it off forcefully. She looked. somewhat impatient, “Alright, alright, I don’t understand. It’s late; you should head home. I’m exhausted.”

Rachel was unceremoniously escorted out by the York family’s house staff.

Mrs. York rubbed her sore hand and muttered to herself, “What’s gotten into that Rachel?”

Tyrone, arms crossed, leaned against the doorframe, “Mom.”

“Yes, dear?”

I don’t want that woman anywhere near the York family mansion again.”

Mrs. York furrowed, “But isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Besides, she had taken quite a liking to Rachel.

Tyrone replied flatly, “Did I ever confirm that?”

“But everyone thinks…”

Tyrone cut her off, “Is my girlfriend decided by other people? I might get married someday, but it won’t be to her. My taste isn’t that bad.”

He never saw Rachel as anything more than transparent; he could see through her pretenses, her belief that she disguised her true intentions well. To Tyrone, she was no more than a clown performing for an audience of one.

“If you invite her over again, then it’ll just be you and her, because I’ll move out,” Tyrone declared.

Mrs. York waved her hands frantically at his words, “Okay, okay, I’ll listen to you. The house is so empty as it is. If you leave, I’ll be scared.”

Tyrone nodded, “Alright, go to sleep.”

He turned and closed his door behind him. Mrs. York sighed. She still thought Rachel was quite nice.

“Why did Rachel upset him so? Maybe I’ll wait for him to cool down and then try to talk some sense into him.”