Chapter 145- rain

Words : 1208 Updated : Oct 7th, 2025

Chapter 145: Chapter 145- rain Morrison had no idea what Lilian had been up to for the past year. At first, he had tried desperately to track her every move, but no matter how hard he looked, he found nothing. Eventually, he gave up and decided to simply wait. Wait for the day she would return to this city. Wait for the day they would meet again. Now, listening to the brief conversation between Lilian and her young driver, he finally realized the truth: she was a fashion model. The news made his blood boil. Damn Bert—how could he let her take a job that put her on display for the world to see? And a model... photographers, cameras, posing, all those angles... just imagining it made Morrison’s chest tighten with anger. Her beauty—he wanted it for himself alone. Even before this trip to America had officially begun, he already felt a storm of fury brewing inside him. The driver dropped Lilian at her residence—Bert’s villa—and left. Lilian could have asked the young, handsome colleague to stay behind for a playful act, just to rile Morrison the way he once tried to provoke her with a model. But she deemed it childish. So there they were, standing in front of the villa: just Lilian and Morrison. With a bright smile, Lilian waved at him. "I’m home now, Morrison. You’re free to do as you please." She turned to walk inside. A cold, low voice stopped her. "And you plan to leave me to sleep on the streets?" Lilian froze mid-step, spinning to look at him with disbelief. "Morrison, how could I possibly leave you on the streets? There are plenty of hotels—you can stay wherever you like. Besides, this isn’t my home; it’s my brother Bert’s place. I have no right to bring anyone in without his permission." Her refusal was calm, matter-of-fact, but Morrison didn’t move. He only stared at her with eyes full of quiet misery. "I came here for you. That makes you responsible for my food and lodging," he said softly, yet with an unyielding weight. Lilian couldn’t help but laugh coldly. She let go of her smile, shook her head, and swiped her fingerprint at the villa’s gate. Without a word, she stepped inside. The path from the gate to the villa was lined with flowers and plants that Bert meticulously tended. He was the type to put care and effort into everything, and the garden’s bloom reflected it beautifully. Lilian walked straight into the villa, refusing to look back. Morrison didn’t stop her, nor did he make any move to follow immediately. But as she closed the door, she instinctively glanced over her shoulder. There he stood, still by the gate. The sky behind him was heavy and black, the clouds sagging low, as if a storm were about to break. Against that dark, oppressive backdrop, his figure seemed even more solid and unyielding... yet also strangely forlorn. Morrison’s lips were pressed together as he stared toward her, unwavering. Lilian felt a strange pang of annoyance twist in her chest. She hurried inside and slammed the door shut, yet even then she couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence outside. What was he thinking? Merciless when breaking up, shameless when chasing... Didn’t he realize how much pain he caused by swinging between extremes? Who in their right mind would willingly give their heart to him again? What if, one day, he suddenly decided to break up once more? Could her heart bear the pain a second time? How strong must a heart be to withstand repeated blows? The last breakup had taken her so long to recover from. If he hurt her again... she wasn’t sure she could ever rise from the ruins this time. So, she would have no emotional entanglement with him ever again. Back at the villa, she went upstairs, unpacked her luggage, and took a quick shower. Hunger gnawed at her, so she checked the fridge. There was food, yes—but she didn’t know how to cook. Over the past year, she had changed in many ways. One thing that remained the same: she still couldn’t cook. And she never had the chance to learn. Bert handled meals at home whenever they weren’t eating out, his culinary skills were excellent, and he never insisted she learn. So she remained hopeless in the kitchen. Pouring herself a cup of warm milk, she drank it down, then went straight to bed, intending to catch up on sleep and deal with food later—maybe order delivery or go out. As for Morrison, waiting outside... she didn’t even care. Whether he stayed or left was no longer her concern. Drifting into a drowsy sleep, she was suddenly jolted awake by a clap of thunder. Pulling aside the heavy curtains, she saw rain pouring down—harder and harder by the second. Her first thought went to the villa’s gate. And there he was, standing there, drenched from head to toe. She didn’t know what to feel. Hastily, she closed the curtains, taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. It wasn’t her fault he was out there in the rain. He had chosen to stand there. He had chosen not to stay in a hotel. If he caught a cold... if he got sick... that was his problem. He brought this on himself. "Lilian!" His voice pierced the rain, loud and desperate, as if he had seen her peek through the window. She gritted her teeth and resolved to ignore him. But the voice continued, carried relentlessly through the downpour. "Just give me one more chance to love you, please!" "Lilian, I love you!" "Lilian!" "Lilian!" "Lilian!" He kept shouting, rain soaking him to the bone. Lilian thought perhaps a few calls without response would make him stop—but he only grew louder, more frantic, more unrelenting. Lilian finally slipped on her coat and grabbed an umbrella. If it weren’t pouring rain, she wouldn’t have let him in—not for the world. Her gesture was nothing more than a shred of mercy, a way to stop him from spiraling further. Nothing else. Stepping out with her face impassive, she opened the door. He was already soaked to the bone, every inch of him drenched. Through the rain and mist, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist. And then, suddenly, he stepped forward, closing the distance, and pulled her into his arms. Before she could even react, his lips were on hers. Lilian struggled frantically, her umbrella slipping from her grasp and clattering to the wet ground. Rain plastered them both, soaking them through. His cold, insistent lips pressed against hers, demanding her breath, biting with a force that left her reeling. His arms were strong, holding her tight as if he intended to merge her completely into his body. The rain stung her eyes, making it impossible to see clearly, and he fared no better. Yet they remained locked together, rain drenching them, lips meeting in a storm of heat and tension. Morrison thought the rain was perfect—it blinded him from her resistance, hiding the faint traces of refusal in her expression.

Chapter 145- rain

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