**Chapter 1192**
Camryn faced the car, trying to identify who had parked it. Unfortunately, the darkness obscured her view, with only a faint glimmer of light illuminating the area. That dim light was insufficient for her to see clearly.
The light felt both close and distant.
“Do you still walk to the store every day?” a raspy voice asked.
Camryn recognized the voice immediately; it was Callum’s.
Callum had once been tricked by his sister-in-law into sending Camryn back to her store. When she thanked him and inquired about his name, he did not conceal his identity like his brother did, revealing that he was the young master of the York family.
“Mr. York,” she responded.
Upon realizing it was Callum, Camryn smiled her signature smile.
“Does the Newman family not have a driver?” she inquired.
“The Newman family does, but I don’t,” Callum replied, pressing his lips together. His grandmother had chosen a blind and unfortunate girl as a potential wife for him—one who had lost her father and lacked her mother’s love.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride to the store,” he offered.
Camryn hesitated and asked, “Why are you here, Mr. York?”
After a brief silence, Callum explained, “I just remembered I have a villa nearby, so I came for a short stay.”
Camryn remarked, “You must own many houses…”
The neighborhood where the Newmans resided was well-known in Wiltspoon, home to many affluent individuals.
Callum replied, “I do own quite a few properties, but I rarely stay in them after purchasing. If I remember a house, I might stay for a few days; otherwise, it remains vacant. I can always sell it later at a higher price to make a profit.”
“Get in. It’s raining. Even if you walk out of the neighborhood, it will be difficult to catch a bus,” he urged.
Camryn was already planning to visit her flower shop to buy flowers. She hesitated briefly before deciding to get into his car. Although they had only crossed paths a few times, it was actually Callum who had seen her multiple times; she had never seen him and had no idea what he looked like.
She had heard that the young masters of the York family were handsome, and she assumed Callum would be no exception. As she approached his car, she felt her way along, finally locating the door handle and pulling it open. Once inside, she placed her closed umbrella at her feet.
“Put on your seatbelt,” Callum instructed.
Camryn was taken aback; she had unknowingly settled into the passenger seat. Quickly regaining her composure, she felt around for the seatbelt, pulled it over, and fastened it. Callum watched her intently, offering no assistance.
He started the car and drove her out of the neighborhood toward her flower shop. During the drive, Callum asked, “Do you usually leave at this time every day?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied.
“You could wait at the spot where you got in.”
Camryn turned her head to see who had parked the car, but it was still too dark in front of her; only a faint glimmer of light was visible, insufficient for clarity. That distant light felt both near and far away.
“Do you walk to the store every day?” he inquired, his voice raspy.
Camryn recognized it immediately—it was Callum’s voice. He had once been tricked by his sister-in-law into taking her back to her shop. When she expressed her thanks and asked for his name, he had revealed his identity without reservation, stating he was a young master of the York family.
“Mr. York,” she acknowledged, and upon realizing it was Callum, Camryn displayed her surprise.
smiled faintly. “Does the Newman family not have a driver?” she asked.
“The Newman family does, but I don’t,” he replied.
Callum pressed his lips together. The wife candidate his grandmother had chosen for him was a blind and unfortunate girl. She had lost her father and was not loved by her mother.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride to the store,” he offered.
Camryn remained still and asked, “Why are you here, Mr. York?”
After a moment of silence, Callum responded, “I remembered I have a villa here, so I came for a short stay.”
Camryn remarked, “You must own many houses…”
The neighborhood where the Newmans lived was well-known in Wiltspoon, home to many wealthy individuals.
Callum replied, “I do own quite a few houses, but I never really stay in them after purchasing. If I remember a house, I’ll stay for a few days. If not, it just sits there. I can always sell it later when the price goes up and make a profit.”
“Get in. It’s raining. Even if you walk out of the neighborhood, it will be hard to catch a bus,” he urged.
“I’m heading to your flower shop to buy flowers anyway,” Callum added.
Camryn hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided to enter his car. Although she and Callum had only crossed paths a few times—actually, it was he who had seen her several times. She had never seen him before and didn’t know what he looked like.
She had heard that the young masters of the York family were handsome and assumed he would be as well.
Feeling her way toward Callum’s car, she finally found the door handle and pulled it open. Once inside, she placed her closed umbrella by her feet.
“Put on your seatbelt,” Callum instructed.
Camryn was taken aback; she had actually gotten into the passenger seat. She…
She quickly regained her composure, feeling around for the seatbelt before pulling it and fastening it. Callum observed her without offering any assistance. He started the car and drove Camryn out of the neighborhood toward her flower shop.
During the drive, Callum asked, “Do you leave at this time every day?”
“Mhm,” she replied.
“You can wait at the spot you were picked up from earlier; I’ll give you a ride.”
Camryn responded quickly, “Thank you, Mr. York, but there’s no need for that. If it doesn’t rain, I can easily catch a bus.” He was neither a relative nor a friend; she would never feel comfortable accepting daily rides from Mr. York.
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