Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Quintessa didn't even hear a word Tyrone said, just stuffed the note into her bag and hugged Tyrone, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, "Sweetheart, thanks a bunch." And with that, she was gone in a flash.

Tyrone, left to himself, touched his face where she'd kissed him, and after a moment, kicked off the covers and rolled over, burying his face in Quintessa's pillow. Just a peck on the cheek, and why did it make his heart race so wildly?

This woman, she was too much. Suddenly, Tyrone remembered something and sat up quickly, grabbing his phone to send a picture to Mrs. York.

Mrs. York called back almost immediately, "Tyrone, are you sure about this?"

Tyrone drawled, "Mom, it's gotta be done. You're hitting the card table today and you've got to invite Darlene, show her this picture."

Mrs. York looked troubled. She'd never done anything wrong, and now she had to be an accomplice to her son's schemes.

"Darlene has a heart condition; what if it works her up and there might be a heart attack then? I can't hurt people."

Tyrone just grinned, "Toughen up, Mom. Darlene's not gonna get sick from this. It'll just push her to call back her grandson to the Winters family ASAP, and set him up on a series of blind dates." "Tyrone, what on earth are you up to?"

"Don't worry about it, Mom. Big plans, you know? Just make sure this gets done for me; gotta go." RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Hanging up, Tyrone felt a smug satisfaction. Last night, he'd gotten Jonathan drunk, paid a guy to pose with him, and snapped a photo.

He couldn't wait to see Darlene's reaction to the photo. Jonathan would be too busy with family setups to bother Quintessa anymore.

After getting up and freshening himself up, Tyrone noticed the lingering blush on his face in the mirror, cockily lifting his chin, "Sweetheart, hmph."

Tyrone slipped into one of

Quintessa's oversized tees just in time to see Jonathan, looking worse for wear, passing by with his assistan Tyrone's competitive spirit kicked in, leaning casually against the doorframe, "Well, well, Uncle Jonathan, up and about so early? Thought you'd be out till the afternoon, what with your age and all. But look at you, still sharp, how about another round tonight?"

Jonathan's head was throbbing fiercely, and despite his best efforts to hide it, seeing Tyrone, he couldn't force a smile, especially when Tyrone came out of Quintessa's

room.

Tyrone teased, raising an eyebrow, "What's up, Uncle Jonathan? Like the tee? Quintessa got it for me. Nice, huh?"

Jonathan had never seen someone

with this expression that was smug enough to make one want to punch him. Trying to ignore him, Jonathan and his assistant started to leave, but Tyrone wasn't having it; he

closed the door and followed ret

out, "Heading to the set, Uncle Jonathan? Let's go together. Didn't sleep well, huh? What happened to those wrinkles? They look deeper. Thought you couldn't handle your liquor, why push it? Just tell me,

and I would've let up. Uncle Jonathan."

Finally, Jonathan snapped, "Shut up."

Tyrone shrugged, "Easy, Uncle Jonathan. For someone as your old age, it's easy to get myocardial infarction with such terrible temper, you know."

Watching as he drove off, Tyrone whistled, "Can't handle this, huh? Wait till you see what's next."