(Michelle POV)
The Peng Estate gates clicked shut behind us, and the world became... quieter.
Steven's car glided forward smoothly, like even the engine was afraid of disturbing him.
I leaned back into the seat, exhaling slowly.
Well.
That was something.
If someone told 18-year-old Michelle Lui that she'd spend a Saturday afternoon signing a glitter peace treaty with the most elite heirs in the country while being politely escorted home by the most emotionally unavailable prince in school — I would have fainted on the spot.
But here I was.
Alive.
Very calm.
Mostly functioning.
Steven sat beside me, posture straight, gaze forward, hands folded neatly on his lap like he was attending a very serious business seminar and not quietly panicking inside.
Because yes.
He was definitely panicking inside.
He just had the emotional expression range of a marble statue.
