Arabella sat on the sofa, patiently waiting for Preston to ask his questions.
However, Preston was far from anxious. Only after Valerio's figure disappeared up the stairs did he take out a cigarette from his pack, lit it leisurely, took a puff, and then turned to Arabella. He didn't say a word, just furrowed his brows, creating an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Sat on the sofa, Arabella quickly played along and explained with a smile, "Mr. Hunt, you've got it all wrong. I actually lost something and came here looking for it. I think I left my stuff in your car. You don't mind if I look for it, do you?"
She was about to get up when Preston's voice followed, "This?"
Arabella turned around to see a silver voice recorder in Preston's hand- exactly what she had been missing!
"That's it!" Arabella walked towards him with a laugh, "So it really was here! I've been looking for it for so long!"
She went over to take the voice recorder, but Preston's hand suddenly closed, his slender fingers gripping the recorder tightly.
Arabella looked up at him, "Mr. Hunt, what's the deal?"
"You left a voice recorder in my car." Preston looked at her, "I should be asking you, what's the deal?" Arabella burst into laughter, "You know I was drunk last night and don't remember anything. How could I intentionally leave a voice recorder in your car?"
Preston stared at her deeply, obviously not accepting her explanation.
"Do you have anything I should be investigating? Is it…" Arabella gestured upstairs, implying Valerio, but she quickly ruled out this answer, "If I really wanted to investigate you, I could just go back to the Hunt family and ask your Grandpa or your father, couldn't I?"
"If you're not investigating me." Preston's eyes were deep, "Then who are you investigating? Balch?"
Arabella kept smiling, but her eyes gradually became serious, quietly looking at Preston.
This man was too smart. He saw through her so easily and quickly.
Maybe she was too on guard against other things, so she easily exposed herself on the matter of Balch. Arabella felt a little annoyed. She rarely made such mistakes, but this time, things were unusually difficult. "Yes, I am investigating Balch." At this point, Arabella no longer resisted futilely and openly admitted. Preston took a puff of his cigarette, but his voice was still clear, "What are you investigating him for?" "Someone reported that his company is involved in illegal transactions." Arabella stated bluntly.
Preston looked at her again when he heard this, "What gives you the right to investigate this?"
"I'm a journalist." Arabella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at him squarely, "I find these things interesting, so I looked into it."
"A journalist?" Preston slowly exhaled a ring of smoke, his eyes blurry, "How did you, who once wanted to be a painter, become a journalist?"
Arabella didn't expect him to bring up the past.
Painting was a very important part of her adolescent years.
Her father, who was already deceased, was a painter, so she started learning to paint from a very young age. After being adopted by the Hunt family, Conway Hunt and William gave her the opportunity to continue studying painting.
The Hunt family's old house had a beautiful environment, an Ideal place for painting. During her few years living with the Hunt family, Arabella painted many pictures, but didn't take any of them when she left.
Not long after leaving the Hunt family, she gave up painting.
Time flew by and six years had passed. To Arabella, all the past events seemed to have happened a long, long time ago.
She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes sparkling, and her smile bright, "I've forgotten about the past myself. I didn't expect you to still remember… Have you been remembering me all these six years?"
After saying this, she stood up, walked to the couch where Preston was sitting, sat down on the carpet, leaned against the armrest of the couch, and looked up at the man on the couch, "How should I thank you for your attention?"
She looked at him, her eyes innocent, yet enchanting.
Seeing that Preston had no reaction, Arabella reached out her hand gently stroked his trousers and then slowly moved upward.
Her fingers slowly glided up and down his trouser leg, from his calf, past his knee, and slowly to his thigh… Her movements were getting slower and slower, yet they were increasingly irresistible.
Preston's gaze fell on her fingers, his breath steady, eyes still deep and calm.
"All for a tape recorder." He spoke slowly, his voice distant and cool, "Was it really necessary?"
"Mr. Hunt," Arabella lifted her face, "Are you underestimating your own charm? You know how I feel about you… Maybe after six years I still can't let you go?"
"Can't let go? Preston looked at her, his gaze profound, "You dare to?"
"Why wouldn't I dare?" Arabella slowly stood up, bending over to him, "Mr. Hunt, since you were willing to let me go, you should've expected that one day, I might reappear in your life…"
They were very close, Preston could even smell her hair, but he didn't move, nor did he stop her.
Arabella locked eyes with him for a moment, then suddenly mustered up the courage, ready to kiss him.
In the next moment, Preston's phone rang, almost at the same time, his hand landed on Arabella's shoulder.
Arabella was stopped, sitting somewhat weakly on the couch next to them, watching him take the call.
He obviously had urgent matters to attend to, Preston hung up after a few words, then stood up, not looking at Arabella, "You can go now."
"I'm not leaving." Arabella leaned on the couch, firmly replied.
Preston looked at her.
"I'm going to help Karan take care of Valerio." Arabella argued, "With her not here, and you not here, how can you leave the kid alone at home? I can't do such a thing. Mr. Hunt, you're a father, doesn't it hurt you? Besides, Valerio likes me, he'd probably be happy if I stayed to take care of him."
When Preston left her alone at home, Arabella couldn't quite believe it.
After all, she only said those few words, and even the always wary Preston really let her stay?
But after Preston left, when she went to the place where Preston just sat to find her tape recorder, she realized that Preston didn't really trust her.
He took her tape recorder.
All the recordings of her and Balch's two meetings were in the tape recorder.
Arabella sighed helplessly, slowly went upstairs.
Valerio was sitting by his little desk in his bedroom, looking at the family photo album in a daze.
Arabella opened the door, leaning against the doorway watching him, "You're one lucky little dude. I'm staying. here to take care of you, happy?"
Valerio didn't say anything, just silently picked up the crayon and started coloring the album.
Arabella laughed.
Valerio had a regular routine, at nine o'clock, Arabella bathed him, then put him to bed, only saying, "Sleep well, I'll take you to have something yummy tomorrow morning."
Valerio obediently closed his eyes.
At ten o'clock, Sandra called, Arabella was wandering around the house with a cup of coffee.
"Are you planning on staying the night?" Sandra was full of worry and anxiety, after a moment of silence, she couldn't help but say, "Arabella, think this through!"
Arabella couldn't help but laugh, after she finished laughing she said, "You think I stayed for Preston?"
Sandra just snorted, didn't answer.
"Don't worry!" Arabella turned to look out the window, "I have other plans."
That Preston and Balch were neighbors, such a coincidence, might also be an opportunity for her.