Twisted Fates: A Game of Love and Retribution

Kingsly Scott studied her flushed cheeks, a faint smile spreading across his handsome face. His eyes, filled with amusement and genuine interest, lingered on her nervous expression. Finally, he spoke in a light, almost dismissive voice, "From what I see, Miss Foster, your assets aren't quite enough."

Her tired and unadorned face indeed lacked any noticeable allure.

Rachel wanted to retreat, but the thought of Jasper held her steady against her current embarrassment. She lifted her head, looking calmly at Kingsly. "I may not compare to Natalie Lewis in appearance, but my charm definitely surpasses hers."

"Oh?" Kingsly's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her, his lips curling slightly.

She met his gaze steadily. "I believe, Mr. Scott, you're not someone who judges solely by appearance."

Kingsly chuckled, his gaze intense for a few seconds. Suddenly, he raised his hand, gently lifting her chin to tilt her head slightly towards him.

Rachel was startled, her heart leaping into her throat. She felt like a small creature caught in a trap, pleading with fearful eyes yet unable to escape.

His eyes narrowed, deep and inscrutable, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.

She dared not look into his eyes, focusing on his clean hands. His fingers were well-defined, yet cold as ice, inexplicably frightening.

He suddenly burst into laughter, his fingers slowly releasing her.

Her body instinctively stepped back, turning her face away in shame.

"What, are you shy?" he teased, his previous cold demeanor replaced by his usual gentlemanly elegance.

Her face flushed crimson as she lowered her head, remaining silent.

He laughed and turned to walk away.

Thinking he was leaving, she quickly followed him.

Unexpectedly, he was merely fetching a golf club for her. As he turned, she bumped into his chest.

"Ugh..."

She cried out in pain, feeling as though her nose might fall off—why was his chest so hard?

Just as she stumbled, about to fall, he caught her waist in time.

Once she regained her balance, she realized his hand was still around her waist.

Time seemed to freeze; he made no move to let go, and she made no move to refuse.

She kept her head down, acutely aware of his intense gaze.

"With so many people around watching you throw yourself into my arms, aren't you worried your boyfriend will settle the score with you later?" he spoke softly, his tone leisurely as if discussing something amusing.

They were so close that his pleasant scent wafted over her, making her heart flutter.

She bit her lip, slowly raised her head, and met his teasing gaze. "You don't need to worry about that, Mr. Scott."

He chuckled again, his hand gentlemanly withdrawing from her waist.

All eyes around them were on them. Her face was a mix of embarrassment and frustration, watching as he tossed the club to the caddy.

She stood there, thinking she had offended him until a gentle male voice reached her ears.

"Miss Foster."

It was his secretary, Helen.

She lifted her head.

Helen said, "Mr. Scott mentioned he will stay at the Crescent Moon Hotel tonight."