There Is No Paradise Where I Ran Away To (14 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 109

Winter’s grip had been firmly broken. As if to announce spring’s arrival, the air in Rodinia grew noticeably warmer. Yet the wind remained sharp. In the late evenings, winter—unwilling to yield to the encroaching spring—lashed out in desperation, rattling shut windows.

He hadn’t called for Vivian today. It had been the same for the past several days.

Sometimes, when facing Vivian, he felt an oppressive sense of helplessness. Though she was clearly his, though he already possessed her entirely, an unpleasant sensation persisted—that she kept slipping through his grasp—and this feeling grew sharper whenever he looked upon her face.

Thus, it was easier on his mind to keep her out of sight. Merely knowing she was within arm’s reach brought him peace.

But tonight, Vivian shattered Edwin’s peace and came to his bedroom late at night. Unlike usual, when she always arrived empty-handed, she now carried a cello.

The lady, clad only in a thin robe over her white nightgown, showed no trace of shame. He knew full well who was responsible for the once immaculately composed woman gradually unraveling.

Having shed her role as the refined noble lady, Vivian drew near.

“What brings you here?”

Edwin closed the book he’d been reading. Having resolved to focus every ounce of his attention on Vivian, he intently followed the woman as she tiptoed over and settled into her familiar spot.

Her long, golden tresses swayed, releasing a rich floral scent that coiled around his nostrils, carried by the heat in the air. Instantly, the desire he’d suppressed for days reared its head.

His throat burned; his lower back ached. Adjusting his posture, Edwin moistened his dry lips as he watched Vivian cradle the cello between her legs and prepare to play.

“I thought it had been far too long since I played the cello for you. You do love my playing, after all.”

What scheme was this bold woman up to tonight?

Vivian, who never lingered near him unless ordered, had taken an unexpected step—utterly unlike the day she’d whined and pleaded to see Charlotte.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Edwin gestured for her to play. Vivian began. The melody was undeniably beautiful, yet not enough to captivate his heart. His attention had already been stolen by something else; eyes closed, he busied himself mentally tracing every curve of her body, especially the slender fingers drawing the bow across the cello strings.

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