When His Perfect Mask Shattered I Awoke (Anneliese) novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21 Suspicion and Static

Anneliese glanced at the hand Jonathan extended toward her. His fingers were long and clean, the lines on his palm sharp and well–defined.

There were faint calluses along the center of his palm and on the pads of his fingers, but they didn’t take away from their elegance—any hand fetishist would be hard–pressed to find a single flaw.

Caught a little off guard, she gingerly placed her phone in his palm, and before letting go, she even rubbed it on her shirt as if worried there might be something dirty on it that would defile his regal hands.

Jonathan gave her a glance, then bent down to help her connect it to a charger.

Anneliese immediately snipped open the tear in her pants with medical scissors. She cleaned and disinfected the wound, applied ointment, and wrapped it with gauze–all in one swift, practiced motion.

When she finally looked up, she realized Jonathan’s gaze had settled on her at some point.

“Do you get hurt a lot?” he asked casually, noticing her confusion.

“Huh? Oh—no, not really.”

But growing up without parents meant there were always scrapes and bruises along the way. It wasn’t like she ever had the luxury of making a fuss when she got hurt. She just learned to grit her teeth and move on.

Jonathan didn’t press further. “Give me a cotton swab. I’ll take care of the cut on your head, too.”

The wound on her forehead had come from banging into a cabinet–it was just a minor scrape that had already started to scab over.

He wants to help me with that, too? Seriously? He has a daughter already, isn’t this… a little much? We’re not even that close. Technically, we barely know each other. Letting him help with something like that–it just feels way too personal.

Without thinking, Anneliese waved him off. “No, no need. I can do it myself.”

To prove it, she grabbed a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, then turned to the car window and quickly disinfected the wound on her forehead.

Her movements were efficient and clean. She tilted her head to check the angle–looked good. She was just about to turn back to Jonathan when her eyes met his in the glass.

He was watching her. Through the dark–tinted window, his gaze seemed even deeper, intense in a way that made it hard to breathe, like he could look right through a person’s soul.

And here she was, head tilted back, nostrils slightly flared. Not exactly her most flattering look.

Their reflections overlapped in the glass. Anneliese’s heart gave a sudden jolt.

Okay, is he secretly a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Does he have some kind of agenda here? With his status, every second probably costs a fortune. Why take the time to personally drive me home? It’s… weird. I’ve heard stories—some rich men get a thrill out of having affairs with married women. Maybe that’s the real excitement for them.

No way. That can’t be it. Right?

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