The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 115

Petty stood by the car door, her eyes fixed on the man inside. “Well? I’m listening.”

Franco watched her, noticing how the cold had turned the tip of her nose pink. A snowflake landed on her cheek and melted almost instantly.

“Get in the car.”

He didn’t say anything else. The window rolled up, shutting her out.

Petty stared at the closed window, jaw clenched, then circled the car and slid into the back seat across from him.

The heater blasted warm air over her freezing skin, and she could almost feel her whole body sigh in relief. She curled up a little, toes bumping against the cane he’d left on the floor. Lifting her chin, she glared at him. “Are you seriously dodging my interview on purpose? What’s your game?”

Franco dropped his gaze to their knees, so close they nearly touched. “Come back to Misty Vale with me.”

She stared at him, caught off guard.

A cold smirk tugged at her lips. She leaned in, bringing her face close to his impossibly handsome features, and spat out, “Not happening.”

A sudden thought made her eyes narrow. “Did you have someone sneak my luggage back again?”

Franco looked at her, his eyes black and unreadable, not letting in a single bit of light.

Every little thing she did, every smile or frown, even when she was mad, was dangerously addictive. No wonder Harris was hooked.

Just as Petty straightened up, Franco’s hand closed around the back of her neck, pulling her into his arms.

His palm, warm and dry, slid under her shirt, holding her slender waist through the thin fabric—the very spot that had caught so many men’s attention tonight.

Petty froze.

She wasn’t clueless about feelings, but Harris had always hidden things too well. Even tonight at The Eminence, he’d just casually asked if she liked that brooch.

She’d had no idea Harris… felt that way about her.

Franco stroked her chin, watching the surprise flicker across her face. His eyes grew even colder. “You think a hundred million is just a friendly gesture?”

Of course not. That kind of money was never just a favor—it was a debt, and a heavy one.

“You sold it to him?” The question tumbled out before she could stop herself, her voice trembling with panic.

She didn’t expect the way Franco’s eyes seemed to crack for a split second, something dark and dangerous flickering there. His face went cold, making her shudder. “You want me to sell it to him that badly?”