After His Sweetheart Moved In, He Came Home Every Night-Chapter 25: Wyatt Sterling Coaxing Her?

"Miss Lancaster, the plane is about to take off. Please return to your seat."

Mason Cheney didn’t explain why, but he insisted they couldn’t switch seats.

Melody Lancaster was furious. She shot Mason Cheney a fierce glare, but her expression immediately turned aggrieved when she looked at Wyatt Sterling. "Wyatt, but I want to sit next to you."

Wyatt Sterling turned a page in his book without even lifting his eyes, his voice cold. "Go back to your seat."

It wasn’t a suggestion, but a command.

Melody Lancaster’s face paled, her defiant attitude instantly deflating.

Mason Cheney urged her again. "Miss Lancaster, the Third Master has spoken. Please return to your seat as soon as possible."

"I know." Melody Lancaster bit her lip, swallowing her grievance. As she turned, her gaze swept over Alice York’s face, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes.

Alice York met Melody Lancaster’s gaze. Her mind was in turmoil, so she didn’t offer an explanation. Once Melody had returned to her seat behind them, Alice finally turned to look at the man beside her.

Wyatt Sterling’s expression was cold. He had maintained an air of detached indifference from start to finish. His final, casual command not only left Melody Lancaster in an awkward position but also forced her to swallow her grievance.

Just a few minutes ago, he had been so gentle and meticulous while helping Melody Lancaster with her gloves, yet in the blink of an eye, he could become so appallingly heartless...

"Miss Lancaster must be hard to placate when she’s angry." Her words seemed directed at Wyatt Sterling, but also as if she were talking to herself.

Wyatt Sterling’s hand paused for a moment before turning the page, then continued. "What about you?"

Alice York froze, not quite understanding. "Me... what?"

Wyatt Sterling’s fingertip tapped the page number. It was page 20. He turned his head to look at her. "What if I were placating you?"

Meeting the man’s gaze, which was almost tender, Alice York’s heart skipped a beat.

But she quickly came to her senses, mocking herself for being foolish enough to mistake his look for tenderness.

She lowered her gaze, avoiding his bewitching eyes. "Third Uncle, you must be joking."

Wyatt Sterling’s lips curled. "Is it funny?"

Alice York’s fingertips curled inward. "..."

Unwilling to try and decipher his mercurial moods, she turned her face away.

A few seconds later, she felt a tug on her hair. Turning back, she saw Wyatt Sterling twirling a lock of it in his hand.

"Third Uncle, please have some self-respect." Outside, Alice York only wanted to draw a clear line between them. Any form of intimacy from him made her feel resistant.

Wyatt Sterling ignored her warning, his well-defined fingers wrapping the strand of hair even tighter. "You changed your hair color."

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

She had curly hair, soft and pleasant to the touch. Wyatt Sterling loved her hair, especially after they made love, when he would pull her into his arms, kiss her shoulder blades, and play with her hair, unable to get enough of it.

Two days ago, Alice York had gone to the salon to touch up her hair color. She’d assumed he wouldn’t notice such a minor adjustment.

Apparently, he had a sharp eye.

"This color really suits you," he said.

Alice York retorted, "Then I’ll dye it blond next time."

The displeasure in Wyatt Sterling’s eyes was obvious. "Going against me won’t do you any good."

A thought seemed to strike her, and Alice York smiled slyly. "Well, why don’t you dye your hair blond, Third Uncle?"

As soon as she said it, an image formed in Alice York’s mind. With his face, if Wyatt Sterling had a head of short, blond hair, he’d be a menace to society.

Wyatt Sterling could tell what she was thinking from her expression. He released her hair. "Don’t daydream so much."

Alice York shut her mouth.

They had another two hours before landing in Washington. After takeoff, Alice York asked a flight attendant for a blanket to catch up on some sleep.

She had pre-travel anxiety; her mind would race with too many thoughts before a long trip, causing insomnia. She hadn’t slept well last night.

Covering herself with the thin blanket, she forced herself to empty her mind. ’Even half an hour of sleep would be good.’ Eventually, she managed to drift off and had a dream.

In the dream, she was covered in injuries, slumped on the ground. Bloody teeth marks covered her arm, and her face was filled with terror as she scrambled backward.

Before her was a spotted hyena, eyeing her menacingly. It bared its teeth, vicious and ugly, ready to pounce at any moment.

With her life hanging by a thread, her mind wasn’t filled with thoughts of rescue, but with countless images of her own gruesome death.

’No, I can’t die like this...’

"Uncle Sterling..." She looked at Silas Sterling, who was standing outside the enclosure, and tearfully begged him, "Save me, Uncle Sterling, save me..." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

But Silas Sterling just looked annoyed. The hyena hadn’t pounced on Alice York yet, which meant he hadn’t gotten to see a bloodier scene.

He ignored Alice York’s pleas for help and tried to command the feral hyena, "Bite her! Why aren’t you biting, you useless beast! What’s the point of me buying you if you won’t bite anyone!"

At that moment, the only ’prey’ in the hyena’s eyes was Alice York. Seeing that she was growing weaker and her arms could no longer support her body, the poised hyena lunged—

It was an adult spotted hyena, astonishingly wild and aggressive. If it tore open a person’s stomach, their organs would be ripped out. There would be no chance of survival.

Alice York’s pupils contracted. In that instant, she truly believed she was going to die.

But just as the hyena leaped, a Rottweiler suddenly charged in from the side, clamped its jaws on the hyena’s neck, and sent it tumbling several meters away.

Its bite force was so incredible that even the feral hyena had no room to struggle against it.

"Give me your hand."

A voice came from above her, but Alice York was too terrified to register it for a long moment.

Not until the man bent down, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up from the ground. She was still in a state of terror, her eyes fixed only on the two dogs tearing at each other. She struggled, "Ah... Don’t touch me..."

"Do you want to die?" the man’s voice was laced with anger.

Finally, she snapped out of it and looked up to see Wyatt Sterling holding her.

His jaw was tight, his face dark with anger. His white shirt was stained with the blood from her arm. In that moment, all her fear vanished, replaced by an unprecedented sense of security.

He led her out, his arm around her, and then handed her over to the servants who had rushed to the scene. She instinctively reached for his hand, tears streaming down her face.

He glanced back at her and wiped away her tears with his blood-stained hand. The gesture wasn’t gentle—it even hurt her a little—but her tears truly stopped.

"It’s okay now," he said.

This dream was less of a dream and more of a memory.

When Alice York woke up, there were tear tracks on her face. She stared blankly for a few seconds, then quickly and secretly wiped them away with the blanket.

"What did you dream about?"

As she was wiping her tears, she heard Wyatt Sterling’s voice, and a tissue was offered to her.

Alice York took the tissue and wiped her face openly. "I dreamed about delicious food."

Wyatt Sterling chuckled. "Shouldn’t you be drooling if you dreamed of delicious food? Why would you be crying?"

Alice York: "..."

Wyatt Sterling pressed the call button to ask a flight attendant for a new blanket for Alice York. "Go back to sleep. It’s still a while before we get to Washington."

Because of the dream, Alice York looked pale and wasn’t the least bit sleepy. She shook her head. "I can’t sleep anymore."

Wyatt Sterling looked at her, his gaze softening slightly. "Were you scared?"