Daisy Ginger leaned back in the car seat, lifting her eyelids to look at him, her expression carrying a hint of a sardonic smile.
Edward Stephens had always thought she was beautiful, like a rose with thorns. How could any man find her anything but stunning? Yet, there were some who dared not reach out to pick her, afraid of getting pricked.
She seemed aware of this as well, flaunting herself boldly under the admiring yet fearful gazes of the opposite sex, which cultivated the dazzling allure of Daisy Ginger.
To have her, scissors wouldn’t do; if you cut her and put her in a vase, she’d wither in a few days.
To own this rose, you have to dig her up with roots and soil intact, plant her in your own garden, so no one else can covet her.
Edward lowered his eyes, observing her indifferent attitude. He leaned in to kiss her lips, but she turned her head away coolly, causing his lips to land on her slender, fair neck.
The man let out a low laugh, unfazed, and left a vicious bite mark on her delicate neck with his teeth.
"There’s an hour left, you should go through security."
The man leaned one hand on the car window, speaking lazily to the two women at the door.
Daisy covered her neck, her fair, pretty face cold, glaring fiercely at the man who had marked her neck.
"Young Master, we’ll head out first. Be careful on the road." Charlotte Smith, carrying a small suitcase, spoke softly to Edward Stephens, her small face gentle. She turned her head, seeing Daisy in a red coat with her long hair down, already quickly striding toward the airport, her anger palpable even from her back.
"Miss Ginger!" She hurriedly called out to her, but Daisy didn’t stop, fleeing like she was avoiding a plague, not even turning her head.
"Young Master, I’m going now." Charlotte feared losing Daisy and quickly spoke to Edward.
"Mm, go on." Edward propped his chin, watching Daisy’s slim figure not far ahead in the crowd. She wore a red coat today, sharply cut, hugging her curves, perfectly matching her temperament. Even from behind, in the bustling crowd, she stood out brilliantly, drawing attention.
Charlotte responded and hurriedly followed, the two slender figures quickly vanishing into the crowd.
Edward slowly retracted his gaze, leaned back in the car seat, and lit a cigarette.
If it weren’t for Robert Stephens pressing too hard, he really wouldn’t want to send Daisy away. If leaving, they should leave together.
But now he was weak and vulnerable; as soon as he left, Robert could very well take Daisy away.
That man hadn’t done anything to him, just told him in this manner—you are not my match yet.
Halfway through the cigarette, Edward’s phone on the passenger seat vibrated.
He glanced at the caller ID, reached out, and picked it up.
"Mr. Stephens," a formal, gentle female voice came through, "we’ve completed the proposal for acquiring Ginger Group and sent it to your office. Please review it and provide us with feedback."
Edward extinguished the cigarette, tossed the butt into the ashtray, and responded faintly: "Mm."
After hanging up, the man lazily leaned against the seatback, the clear noon sunlight shining on his face, yet unable to penetrate the darkness in his eyes at that moment.
To own a woman like Daisy Ginger, she must be kept in the garden, roots and soil intact, taken away as a whole. There’s no other way.