Silas’s brazen attitude

"Oh, I see!" Esme's surprise heightened as she processed the revelation. "You have a penthouse here," she murmured, her mind flashing back to a previous occasion. That night, he had taken her to another property. It was a villa.

Her curiosity piqued, and she couldn't help but ask, "How many houses do you have?" Her sheer astonishment lingered in her voice.

"Um... a couple in the city, several across different cities, a farmhouse in the countryside, and of course, my family's mansion," Silas replied casually. He leaned over to her laterally and nudged her arm playfully, asking, "How many houses do you want? I'll buy as much as you want."

Esme felt a flutter in her chest at his suggestive tone, but she quickly regained her composure. She put her hand on his arm and pushed him away slightly. "Why would I want your houses? I can buy my own. Besides, I have a family house in my hometown—a sizable one, even larger than your villa. So, don't parade your wealth and possessions in front of me. It's not going to work."

She defiantly raised her chin as she awaited the elevator, refusing to be impressed or swayed by Silas's display of wealth.

Silas chuckled and straightened himself. 'Feisty, aren't you?' he murmured in his mind, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 'I like that.'

Silas's smirk widened as he admired Esme's resolute attitude. No woman had ever displayed disinterest in his wealth before. Esme's candid refusal intrigued him, solidifying his belief that she was a perfect match for him.

"I know. But I still want to buy a house for you," he said.

"Why are you being so generous?" Esme questioned, her tone carrying a note of suspicion.

"You are my girlfriend," he said blatantly.

The elevator door opened, interrupting their banter. Esme stepped inside, her heart racing. Ignoring the flutters in her stomach, she turned to him with a stern face. "A fake girlfriend," she clarified firmly.

Silas's smirk grew wider as he watched Esme enter the elevator, her confident demeanor captivating him. He enjoyed the way she spoke her mind and refused to be swayed by his charm. It was a refreshing change from the usual women he encountered, who often fell at his feet.

As he followed her into the elevator, Silas couldn't help but admire Esme's beauty. Her sharp jawline, full lips, and piercing blue eyes left him breathless. He found himself wanting to spend more time with her and get to know her better.

"I must say, I'm quite pleased with myself. I've never had a woman reject my advances before," he said huskily.

Esme shot him a stern look, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Stop pretending to be interested in me, Silas. You're not fooling anyone."

Silas chuckled, unfazed by her rejection. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my dear. I assure you, I am very interested in getting to know you better."

Esme rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "Save it, Silas. I'm not falling for your tricks."

Undeterred, Silas continued to flirt with her, his gaze lingering on her face. "Perhaps not today, but who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day, you'll find yourself falling for me."

Esme scoffed, her laughter dripping with disbelief. "Not likely. I'm not interested in players like you."

Silas's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Players, huh? Well, maybe I should show you what a real player looks like."

Without warning, Silas reached out and grabbed the grocery bags from Esme's hands. "Let me carry these for you."

Esme let him carry the bags, but her attitude was the same as before. Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Esme bristled at his flirtatious behavior. She disliked his cheekiness, especially when it bordered on flirting. 'No matter how hard you try, I'll never fall for you,' she muttered to herself.

Having endured heartbreak, she resolved never to fall for someone who wasn't serious about a relationship.

When the elevator reached Esme's floor, she moved to take the grocery bags from Silas, only to be surprised when he refused to hand them over. Instead, he inquired, "Don't you want to show me around your house?"

Sighing, Esme exited the elevator, Silas following with a smirk. As they entered the house, Silas casually strolled into the dining area, placing the bags down.

"Do you like this place?" he inquired, inspecting the surroundings. He had already asked Caleb to arrange everything and was quite impressed with his assistant's work.

"Yes, I like it," she replied as she pulled out a chilled water bottle from the refrigerator and poured some water into a glass. "Thank you for arranging such a nice place." She handed him the glass and smiled. Her gratitude was sincere, but Silas felt a pang of anxiety, wondering if she had realized he deliberately arranged for her stay there.

Taking a sip of water, he turned aside, trying to maintain his composure. "I didn't arrange anything," he stated a moment later, placing the glass on the table. "The company assigned the accommodations. It's not my responsibility."

"I know, but I still want to thank you," Esme insisted.

"Is that so?" Silas turned to her, his smile returning. "Do you agree that I can do anything for you?"

"Stop it." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious," Silas pressed on. "Imagine for a moment that this isn't fake. I can give you anything you want."

"You should leave." Esme turned around, crossing her arms across her chest.

"How rude!" Silas remarked, ignoring her request. Instead, he pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat down. "I carried your grocery bags all this way, and you didn't even offer me a coffee."

Esme stood momentarily stunned, incredulous at Silas's audacity. She couldn't reconcile this cheeky behavior with the authoritative and imposing person she had encountered during the interview.

"Are you always like this?" Esme asked, confused.

"Yes, why?" Silas asked, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Are you starting to fall for me?"

"Not again," Esme muttered, shaking her head in exasperation, and headed into the kitchen.

Silas watched her brew coffee. He wanted to taste the sweet coffee she had brewed for him, which was why he had brazenly asked for coffee.

"It's tomorrow that we are going to meet my parents," he reminded her.

Esme's heart skipped a beat, a sudden surge of nervousness tightening her stomach. Maintaining a composed exterior, she nodded. "I remember."

"Do you need a dress?" he asked.

"No, thanks," Esme replied curtly, scowling as she poured the coffee into a cup.

Silas smirked, a cunning thought crossing his head.

Esme approached Silas, carrying the hot, steaming coffee. Standing beside him, she felt a rush of nerves, knowing she was on the brink of meeting his parents.

Silas sipped the coffee tentatively. Sensing her nervousness, he said, "My parents are kind and loving, especially my father. Mom is a bit strict, but she loves me. I'm confident you'll like them," he reassured her.

Esme felt a sense of relief wash over her. She smiled and said, "My parents are also loving and caring."

"Are you going to introduce me to them?" he asked teasingly.

Esme's expression turned serious. "I think you should leave now."

"You seem don't like me to be here. Okay, I am leaving." Silas got to his feet. "I'm just two floors above. Reach out if you need anything. And feel free to visit my place anytime. I'd be delighted to have you over."

He leaned over and stole a quick kiss on her cheek before leaving.

Esme inhaled sharply, her pupils dilating. Stunned, she stood there like a statue. Her hand slowly moved up and touched the place where he had just kissed her.

"How brazen!" She mumbled in a daze.