Orphan To Unbreakable Queen - Chapter 90: Chapter 90

Bowen led Aubree out of the restaurant, heading toward his car.
Just as Ethan and Samson were about to follow, Kelvin quickly stepped in with a chuckle and blocked their way. "Hey, what's the hurry? Can't you see Mr. Turner wants some private time with Miss Miller?"
Ethan and Samson nodded in unison, then promptly changed course and put some distance between themselves and the car.
Realizing the trio hadn't followed, Bowen shot them an approving glance out of the corner of his eye.
Kelvin swelled with pride—his bonus was safe.
Bowen held the passenger door open for Aubree.
Inside the car, Aubree pressed against the window, putting as much distance as possible between herself and Bowen.
She'd have preferred the back seat, but knowing Bowen, who had already opened the passenger door, she knew he wouldn't let her have her way.
Bowen's fingers traced the steering wheel. He tilted his head, glancing at Aubree beside him. Why is she sitting so far away from me?
'Never mind,' Bowen thought to himself. 'I've got all the time in the world.'
Bowen pressed his lips together, the faintest smile playing at their corners.
The engine roared to life as Aubree clicked her seatbelt into place.
As Aubree watched the buildings outside the window slowly recede, a thought suddenly popped into her mind. 'For someone like Bowen who always has a chauffeur, how good is he at driving himself?' she wondered.
Ethan slung an arm around Samson's shoulders while Kelvin stood ramrod straight beside them.
The three watched with satisfied smiles as the car slowly pulled away—but then, as it suddenly started zigzagging down the road, they all shouted in unison, "Oh no."
Inside the car, Aubree clung to her seatbelt as she was jolted from side to side. 'Wait a minute,' she thought, 'why is Bowen not good at driving as I expected?'
With a sudden brake, Aubree lurched toward Bowen, her forehead bumping into his firm chest. For a split second, she thought, 'Nice physique.' But then suspicion crept in, 'Wait, did he do that on purpose?'
Bowen gave an awkward chuckle, meeting Aubree's suspicious gaze as if seeing right through her thoughts. "I'm genuinely a bit rusty at driving."
Aubree glanced at Bowen, a bit uneasy. "Maybe you should just have Ethan drive instead," she suggested.
"They're already gone. I've got this." Bowen declared, not one to back down. 'Calling them back now? How humiliating would that be?' he wondered.
Aubree had no choice but to keep quiet.
Bowen was indeed rusty at first, but he quickly got the hang of it. In no time, the car was cruising smoothly and steadily down the open road.
Maybe it was the intense jolting just now, but Aubree felt a wave of dizziness.
Pressing her forehead against the window, she squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of nausea rose within her, trying to fight off the discomfort.
Bowen quickly noticed her discomfort. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm a bit dizzy," Aubree murmured. No sooner had she spoken than Bowen reached out and grasped her other hand, which had been hanging limply by her side.
Aubree instinctively tried to pull her hand away.
Instead of letting go, Bowen tightened his grip on her hand.
In that instant, Aubree's entire focus was pulled to his hand—his warm, dry fingers pressed tightly against hers, leaving no gap between them.
"Bowen?" Aubree blurted out, her voice laced with urgency and surprise.
Aubree felt a sudden rush of panic. 'I thought I was prepared for this,' she thought, 'but I never expected Bowen to make a move so quickly.
'Should've told me you were after me—I would've grabbed the cash and run ages ago.'
Instantly, the dizziness vanished and the nausea disappeared.
Bowen stopped the car at the red light. Locking eyes with Aubree, his deep, commanding voice left no room for argument. "Don't squirm."
Bowen gently took her hand in his, lowering his gaze to study it. Bree's fingers were beautiful, but not the delicate kind pampered by luxury—he could feel the calluses on her palms and fingertips.
Aubree's ears burned red—not from shyness, but as a natural physiological response. She could feel his warm fingertips slowly tracing across her palm; everywhere he touched seemed to ignite like wildfire, leaving a trail of searing heat in their wake.
'My hand doesn't even feel like mine anymore—it's scalding hot,' she wondered.
Bowen's fingers finally came to rest, pressing firmly into the fleshy web between her thumb and index finger. He kneaded it twice with deliberate pressure. In a low, reassuring voice, he said, "This should help."
Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks, but she did feel much better.
"I can do it myself," Aubree said.
Bowen acted as if he hadn't heard a word she said. As the light turned green and the car started moving again, his fingers continued their gentle kneading against her hand.
He was driving, so Aubree couldn't really resist. If something happened, it'd be her life on the line.
'Fine, let him hold my hand. What's the harm?' she thought. 'It's not like I'm going to lose anything.'
After a full day at Rithol High School, Aubree slumped comfortably in the passenger seat. Lulled by the car's slow, steady pace, she soon drifted off to sleep.
Bowen massaged her hand for a while. After a long, thoughtful pause, he finally spoke, his voice tentative. "Maybe from now on, you could—"
Only when he noticed no response from her side did Bowen realize Aubree had fallen asleep.
His hand stilled, but he couldn't bring himself to let go.
He could completely envelop her hand in his, and he didn't want to let go.
'Guess I'm not letting go, then,' she wondered.
As twilight deepened, Bowen's lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes dark with possessive intensity.
If Kelvin were here right now, he'd definitely be grumbling about his shameless boss.
'Miss Miller is already fast asleep, yet Bowen still refuses to let go of her hand,' he wondered. 'And to think someone once said he only saw her as a kid, like Alvin. Yeah, right.'
Bowen slowly pulled the car into Aubree's apartment complex and parked outside her building.
Bowen watched as Aubree slept soundly, unable to bring himself to wake her. With no one else around, he dropped all pretenses, his gaze hungrily sweeping over every inch of her face.
The longer he gazed at her, the more his heart swelled with delight.
It was obvious to everyone how differently Bowen treated Aubree, yet he stubbornly kept lying to himself.
The emotion in Bowen's eyes only grew deeper, deep, thick, and impossible to hide.
Under Bowen's gaze, Aubree frowned in her sleep. Suddenly, she jolted awake. Instinctively, her hand shot out and seized the front of his shirt.
Her fingers desperately clutched his white dress shirt, pulling the collar askew to reveal his well-defined collarbone.
"What's wrong?" Bowen asked, his voice laced with concern.
Aubree took a moment to collect herself, blinking as the face before her slowly came into focus. Only then did the pounding in her chest begin to fade—she had just relived her death in that old life once again.
The Wilson family's crimes against her haunted her every thought—their blood debts still unpaid.
"I'm fine," she said. Her grip gradually loosened as Aubree took a steadying breath. Looking up, she found herself caught in the warmth of Bowen's gaze, though he seemed oblivious to the tenderness in his own eyes.
"Sorry," Aubree blurted out, instantly letting go. Her face flushed a deep crimson—now she was genuinely embarrassed.
Bowen remained completely unfazed. He even reached out and pulled her hand back. "If you like tugging at my shirt, go right ahead," he said, his tone indulgent.
Bowen asked gently, "Did you just have a nightmare?"
'Even though he said I could, I'm not nearly shameless enough to actually do it,' she wondered.
Startled as if burned, Aubree jerked her hand back. "No need—just a bad dream, but I'm fine now. Since we're home, I'll head up now. Thanks, Bowen."
Aubree darted away, vanishing in a flash.
Bowen watched her retreating figure and muttered to himself, "I must've been crazy back then, treating her just like a kid and making her treat me as an elder."
After standing downstairs in the chilly night air for a while to clear his head, Bowen made a call to Ollie.
"Not gonna lie, Bowen, you've been blowing up my phone lately, huh?" Ollie teased. "Alright, spill it. What's the latest friend story you've got for me this time?"
Bowen hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "So how do you go about wooing a girl?"
Ollie nearly jumped out of his skin on the other end of the line. 'Well, looks like he's finally seen the light,' he wondered.
"Oh, you've definitely come to the right guy. Besides, didn't I already give you that book? Didn't it teach you anything?" said Ollie.
Bowen suddenly remembered that parenting guide Ollie had given him—no wonder it had felt so off. The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he snapped, "Seriously, do something useful for once."
"I am doing a good deed right now," Ollie crowed, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. He could practically hear Bowen grinding his teeth.
'But come at me if you dare,' he wondered.
Ollie said, "Oh, you've definitely come to the right guy for advice on chasing girls. Aubree's winter break is coming up. Rithol High always lets out two days before New Year.
"She doesn't really have any family around, so she'll probably be spending the holiday alone. Seize this chance—ask her out, go see the snow, and really spend some quality time together.
"She's pretty guarded, dude. You can't rush her—just be genuine and take it slow."
Bowen took silent note of everything.