Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Wilma's heart raced as she hurried to catch up. "Master. You're back, and this lady is?"

Tyrone kept walking without stopping, heading straight ahead: "My woman, don't worry about it and go on down."

Wilma caught up again: "Madam has already gone to bed, should I...?"

"No, don't let her disturb us."

Right now, Tyrone didn't want to see Cecilia. If he had to see her, it could wait till tomorrow. He didn't want anything delaying his "feast." Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

Wilma watched as Tyrone carried Quintessa upstairs, sighing to herself. Young people were so passionate, burning the midnight oil like this.

Quintessa's head spun from being jostled, she said, "Tyrone, put me down first. Can't we have a proper conversation?"

Tyrone nodded, very seriously: "You're right, what can't be conversed in bed?"

Wilma blushed at overhearing this. The young master could actually say such things. Oh, the openness of youth.

Tyrone kicked open his bedroom door, carrying Quintessa inside.

After hesitating for a good ten minute downstairs, Wilma finally decided to dash upstairs.

She had been working for the York family for years, and it was the first time she saw the young master bring a woman home. Such explosive news, if she didn't tell Madam, she'd definitely be blamed

tomorrow Wilma ran to Cecilia's bedroom door and knocked a few times. No response-she must be asleep, so Wilma knocked harder.

Eventually, the door opened, revealing Cecilia, with a mask on her face, appeared before Wilma.

Cecilia, too tired to open her eyes, said, "Wilma, dear, I've told you, I'm tired from shopping today and needed to rest early. Unless the sky's falling, don't wake me." Wilma cautiously said, "Madam, the young master just brought a girl home and went straight to his room to...you know. Will this bring trouble the York family?"

"What are you saying?"

Wilma repeated her earlier words.

The next second, Cecilia ripped off her facial mask, "Is this boy out of his mind? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Who is this woman?"

Wilma shook her head: "I don't know. The young master carried her in. I didn't even see her face. He told me not to bother you and didn't want you disturbing her."

Cecilia frowned. If her son was indeed "feasting," she really shouldn't interrupt.

But curiosity got the better of her.

Who could have made her son bring her into the York family? Her mind briefly pictured Quintessa's face, sending a a shiver down her spine." She quickly dismissed the thought: "No, no, it can't be that temptress. My boy wouldn't be so reckless."

The more Cecilia spoke, the less confident she became. Her son could be quite reckless.

She had intended not to disturb her

son, but the more she dwelled on the possibility of it being Quintessa, the more worried she became. After pacing her bedroom, she eventually stormed out.

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On the bed, Quintessa's evening gown was roughly torn apart and thrown to the floor, leaving her in just a strapless bra and black panties. The gray bedsheet contrasted with her sprawled, enchanting hair and posture. All her malicious and sarcastic words were silenced by Tyrone's kiss.

Given a moment, Quintessa said, "Let me say one thing, just one thing."

"Don't you dare talk nonsense to me now. If I spare you again, damn, I'll be damned."