Chapter 6 Return

He wore an impeccably tailored black bespoke suit, every inch of fabric radiating understated luxury, perfectly accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

The lighting cast subtle shadows across his sharply defined features—a face that was strikingly handsome yet frighteningly cold.

High cheekbones, thin lips pressed into a firm line, a jawline sharp as a blade, and especially those eyes—deep as winter lakes, devoid of any warmth. Just a casual glance from him carried an overwhelming sense of authority, the kind of detached dominance that came from years at the top.

Ordinary people meeting such a gaze would likely buckle at the knees, unable to form coherent words.

But now, those eyes capable of freezing everything miraculously melted the moment they saw her.

Ice turned to water, leaving behind something indescribable—something almost tender.

Yes, tender! Using that word to describe him was like believing in fairy tales.

But it was happening, right before her eyes.

She froze completely, her mind going blank.

Matthew!

How could he be here?

Before she could recover from her shock, Matthew was already moving.

He stepped forward, his long arm reaching out, pulling her entire body firmly and tightly into his embrace without question.

The door slammed shut, shutting out the world.

His embrace was broad and solid, carrying a reassuring warmth and the faint scent of cedar that instantly enveloped her.

His grip was strong, almost painful against her bones, yet somehow gave her an unprecedented sense of security.

A well-defined hand gently stroked her soft hair, sliding from crown to tips with incredibly tender movements.

He said nothing.

Yet she felt this silent embrace contained a thousand unspoken words.

All that suppressed longing, all that unknown waiting, all those worries that couldn't be voiced.

Three years.

Three whole years apart.

"Emma, I'm back," his deep voice rumbled above her head, carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness. "Three years felt like forever."

Three years had been like an entire century to him.

Waiting for her ridiculous contract marriage to end before he dared to slowly approach.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," his voice was resolute, carrying an unquestionable promise.

Her nose stung suddenly, her eyes heating up instantly.

She pulled away from his embrace—not in rejection, but needing space to breathe.

Looking down, she turned toward the kitchen. "What... would you like to drink?"

"The usual," Matthew's voice followed her.

Emma skillfully found the coffee beans, ground them, and brewed.

Every movement was etched into her bones. This coffee was also Nicholas's favorite.

Too bad he'd never tasted coffee she'd made.

Soon, a cup of aromatic hand-dripped coffee was placed before Matthew.

He accepted it, the porcelain cup perfectly warm.

He lowered his head and took a light sip.

Bitter yet rich, with a subtle aftertaste.

Her usual beans, her unique brewing method, and the familiar taste etched deep in his memory.

"Why did you suddenly come back?" She finally looked up, her voice still unsteady, asking carefully.

Matthew set down the coffee cup, the porcelain clicking against the table.

He looked up at her, his lips curving into the faintest smile—one that carried both playfulness and an air of inevitable victory.

"What? Forgot our wager after just three years?"

The wager? Her heart jumped, certain buried memory fragments beginning to surface.

"I'm here to take you back, naturally," Matthew leaned forward slightly, his burning gaze locking onto her eyes, his powerful presence instantly enveloping her. "Waiting for you to continue our work."

Those words struck like lightning in her mind.

"And then," he paused, his voice low and magnetic, each word hammering against her heart, "Stand with me once again at the pinnacle of this world."

She was completely stunned.

Her heart felt like something was gripping it tightly—sore and swollen.

Emma instinctively tried to force a smile, wanting to say something witty to mask the tumultuous emotions, but she failed.

Her lips barely moved before tears spilled over first, beyond her control.

Large drops falling onto her hands.

Matthew Moore was her senior.

When she was pursuing her doctorate abroad, alone and friendless, he'd been like a true older brother, taking care of her everywhere, shielding her from storms.

He was also her most compatible partner.

Together, they'd spent sleepless nights in the lab until she finally derived that world-changing formula.

But it was also then that she chose to retreat.

Marrying a man she'd only met a few times, willing to accept the humiliation of his three-year marriage contract.

No one understood her.

Everyone thought she'd lost her mind, including Matthew.

He'd been so angry he'd nearly flipped the table, but in the end only looked at her deeply, left her with a three-year wager, then turned and left for overseas ventures.

And she had completely disappeared from everyone's sight.

These three years, she'd lived peacefully, but also quite repressively, like a bird with broken wings, trapped in a gilded cage.

Now the cage door was open, nd the person who once soared alongside her had returned.

With irrefutable dominance, wanting to take her back to the skies.

Only she knew that some things had to be completed.

He didn't dare wipe her tears—afraid he couldn't control himself. He simply said quietly, "Dr. N's tears are precious. Don't waste them. Get changed, I'm taking you to dinner. You've gotten too thin."

Emma nodded and walked into the master bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Matthew and Emma descended together.

A luxury convoy was already waiting downstairs. Matthew opened the car door, and they rode together.

He loved that faint fragrance she carried—having her beside him felt like possessing the entire world.

Half an hour later, they arrived at Ember Grove Club.

The car door opened, revealing a handsome, smiling face. "Emma."

As Emma stepped out, people on both sides bowed respectfully. "Welcome back, Emma."

Emma looked at them in delighted surprise—all these familiar faces, partners she'd once worked alongside. "You all came back?"

Jack Taylor stepped forward, affectionately linking arms with Emma. "Emma, we missed you so much. Thankfully, Matthew let us all return together—partly to keep you company, to handle our Global Medical Summit."

Sheryl Wilson also came forward, hooking Emma's other arm with a sweet smile. "That's right! With Emma here, we won't have to work so desperately hard every day. Matthew's been so strict with us."

"Sheryl, you've become so much more feminine. Not the little crybaby from before." Emma pinched her cute little face.

Matthew shot a sharp look their way, and Jack immediately released her arm, his heart trembling.

Matthew's thin lips parted slightly. "Let's go inside."