Chapter 6 - 06 – Failure
So in the end, Morrison had no choice but to cool himself off in the bathroom.
By the time he stepped out, fully clothed, Lilian had vanished into her bedroom like smoke. He chuckled quietly, ran a hand through his damp hair, pulled on a fresh white shirt and black slacks, and walked over to her door.
Knock, knock.
"I’m done. You can come out now."
The door creaked open just a sliver—only wide enough for a single wary eye to peek through. Lilian scanned him up and down like a customs officer checking a suspicious package. Only when she confirmed he was fully dressed did she slip out, arms crossed, posture stiff.
He was casual now—no suit, no tie. Just a crisp shirt tucked half-heartedly into tailored pants, the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up. His damp hair was left to air-dry, unruly in the most photogenic way. With those sharp cheekbones, lazy eyes, and sinful mouth, he looked less like a CEO and more like trouble incarnate.
It made her uncomfortable.
Most of the time, when she saw Morrison, he was beside her brother Dave—suit-clad, aloof, untouchable. The perfect businessman. The perfect son.
But like this?
Relaxed. Undone. Dangerous.
It reminded her too much of that one time she’d visited his penthouse—back when she still thought of him as her "relationship tutor." Even then, he had that same slow-burning heat to him. Like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.
And now... he had pounced.