With three people aboard, the lamborghini reventón instantly became useless.
Fortunately, whenever he went out these days, a security car followed.
Jiang Cheng tapped the call button on his phone.
Moments later, the rolls-royce pulled up at the foot of the complex.
Because a chauffeur was driving, Zhou Ying headed straight for the rear seat.
She added, "Good thing you had the back row refitted—otherwise the three of us wouldn't fit. Honestly, when there's a crowd, a bench seat like this is better."
Jiang Cheng curved his lips in a smile.
He raised an eyebrow at Zhou Ying. "Actually, even with just two people, this back seat is pretty nice..."
This time Zhou Ying caught the innuendo immediately.
After all, at Christmas she'd teased him about turning the two-seat rear into three.
Right then Jiang Cheng had demonstrated the advantages—hands-on.
With Fang Yuan present, Zhou Ying could only pretend she hadn't understood.
She shot him a silent glare, then urged Fang Yuan into the car. "Mom, hop in."
As Zhou Ying slid across to the window seat, Fang Yuan, about to climb in, hesitated.
Her face clouded.
If she got in now, she'd be wedged between Jiang Cheng and Zhou Ying—an arrangement that mortified her.
She stepped back, thinking Jiang Cheng should take the middle.
But that felt wrong too—she'd still end up beside him.
Still impossible.
Flustered, she waved at Zhou Ying. "Move to the middle. I'll sit by the window with Jiang Cheng."
Zhou Ying blinked. "Huh?"
Seeing Fang Yuan's meaning, Jiang Cheng stayed silent; he simply walked around to the opposite door.
Opening it, he nudged Zhou Ying into the center spot.
Zhou Ying's carefree attitude drew a sigh from Fang Yuan.
Watching Jiang Cheng's maneuver, Fang Yuan felt both relief and resignation.
Her daughter was not only oblivious but also utterly trusting of Jiang Cheng.
Fang Yuan's gaze drifted past Zhou Ying to meet Jiang Cheng's.
Their eyes locked for several seconds, a message only they understood.
In the end it was Fang Yuan who looked away first.
Though they hadn't taken the final step, everything short of it had happened.
Her inner struggle raged.
She couldn't deny that a man like Jiang Cheng was dangerously attractive.
Her resistance had been purely moral; deep down she liked it—even yearned for it.
She'd wondered before: if Zhou Ying didn't exist... All her qualms came back to her daughter.
Otherwise, why wouldn't a woman in her situation enjoy a young, handsome, attentive man?
Especially after glimpsing that firm body radiating masculine strength...
But real life offered no what-ifs.
Pushing the chaos aside, Fang Yuan turned to watch the city slide past the window, slowly calming her heart.