Blanche's POV
Vincent never changed—completely reckless, never caring what anyone thought of him.
Despite my marriage and having a child, he still couldn't resist his flirtatious games.
Honestly, he'd probably whistle at any woman who crossed his path.
With someone like him, how could anyone take his words seriously?
Still, regardless of what people said about Vincent, he'd genuinely helped me before.
I could never forget that debt.
I pressed myself into the corner while Vincent towered over me like some looming shadow.
He might look like a refined gentleman, but underneath that facade, he was utterly shameless.
'Maybe ignoring him completely is the only way,' I thought. 'He might get bored and back off.'
So I shut my eyes tight, pretending I hadn't heard a word he'd said.
The town's dim streetlights filtered through the car window, casting a soft glow across my face.
With my eyes closed, my lashes—thick as black feathers—trembled with each nervous breath.
