The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 149: Concept for a New Media Website]

Los Angeles, Woodland Hills.

Erica drove her Cherokee up the hill.

After passing the last intersection, she quickly turned her head to Hawke, deliberately asking, "Aren't you even a little nervous?"

Hawke smiled, "Why should I be nervous?"

"That's true," Erica said, reaching out her right hand to hold Hawke's left hand, "We've faced life-and-death tests together; what could be scarier than facing death itself?"

Hawke never said sweet nothings, but some words meant more than sweet talk: "You're mistaken; I'm not nervous because Paul Ferguson is your grandpa, and you're my biggest support."

Suddenly, Erica stopped the car and said directly, "Hawke Osment, if you keep this up, I won't be able to resist asking you to marry me."

She restarted the car and drove toward a luxurious estate halfway up the hillside, where the gates slid open automatically.