Broken Bond: Claimed by My Ex-Husband's Alpha Billionaire Uncle-Chapter 68: A Meaningful Gift

Charlotte didn’t eat all the food they bought, but she loved the experience of smelling the rich aromas, feeling the warmth of freshly cooked dishes in her hands, and standing in line like any other visitor at the night market.

Damon, on the other hand, ended up eating most of it. Not that he minded. As long as she was smiling, he’d gladly take care of whatever she left behind.

The night air had turned colder, but Charlotte wasn’t ready to leave just yet. There was something comforting about walking through these familiar streets, surrounded by laughter and the conversations, reliving memories she thought she’d forgotten.

She stopped in front of a dart game stall, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "I used to play this with my friends," she said, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "But my aim is so bad, I never won anything. They’d always laugh at me."

Damon followed her gaze to the game. The prizes were nothing fancy—cheap plush toys, little trinkets, keychains—but that wasn’t the point. A few couples were taking turns, one of them aiming for the grand prize: a massive pink teddy bear.

Damon had bought Charlotte countless expensive gifts before, but she always looked hesitant when accepting them, as if she felt guilty. Maybe if he got her something small, something won with effort rather than money, she’d treasure it more.

"Want to give it a shot?" he asked.

Charlotte shot him a knowing look. "Didn’t I just say I have terrible aim?"

Damon smiled. "So what? As long as you have fun, it’s worth it." He nudged her toward the stall. "Come on, one try won’t kill you."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Just once."

After paying for the game, Charlotte picked up a dart, took careful aim... and completely missed the target. Her next few attempts weren’t any better, most barely stuck to the board, and one even went flying past the target altogether.

She groaned, running a hand through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. "See? Hopeless. I can’t even win the smallest prize."

"You did great, sweetheart."

Great? Where was the greatness?!

If her old friends had seen that, they would’ve laughed until their stomachs hurt.

Maybe it was rigged! Maybe the board moved every time she threw a dart! Yes, that had to be it. No way her aim was that bad ... right?

But then, Damon stepped up. And what he did next was downright humiliating.

He threw his first dart. Bullseye.

The second. Bullseye.

Third. Fourth. Fifth.

All. Perfect. Shots.

The stall owner whistled in amazement. "Wow! Congratulations, sir! You’re the first person tonight to win the grand prize!" He gestured toward the display of oversized stuffed animals. "Go ahead, pick any prize you want—"

"The pink teddy bear." Damon didn’t even let him finish.

A moment later, a massive pink teddy bear was placed in Charlotte’s arms.

Wait ... what?

He was the one who won, so why was she the one getting the prize?

She looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. But Damon just tilted his head, as if to say, ’Who else would I get it for?’

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice warm. Then, in a playful whisper, he added, "Though, I have to apologize, sweetheart. The bear might not be the best quality."

The stall owner stiffened, looking personally offended, his eyes practically screaming, Excuse me?! My teddy bears are top-tier!

"I like it." Charlotte hugged the teddy bear tightly, pressing her cheek against its soft fur. "I really, really like it."

It wasn’t about the gift itself—it was about him. The way Damon always seemed to know exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t just buy her expensive things; he paid attention. He noticed the little details, the small disappointments she tried to laugh off, and he made up for them in ways that mattered.

And this time, he’d given her something she could hold onto. Something that reminded her of the little girl who used to stand at this very stall, always missing the target, always leaving empty-handed.

"I’ll take good care of it," she murmured, her fingers tightening around the teddy bear’s paw.

Damon’s hand slipped around her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace as they strolled through the night market. "Do you want to play something else?" he asked, his voice low and amused. "How about the fishing game?"

Charlotte laughed, glancing up at him. "We don’t even have an aquarium."

"Then we’ll buy one," he said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips lingered as they disappeared into the lively crowd.

Meanwhile, back at the dart stall, the owner scratched his head, turning to the young woman beside him. "They look really familiar, don’t they?"

The woman, standing with her boyfriend, nodded slowly. "Yeah ... like I’ve seen them somewhere before. And their voices ... I swear I’ve heard them recently."

Even with masks and hats covering most of their faces, something about them stood out.

Then, her boyfriend suddenly stiffened, his eyes going wide. "Wait a second. That’s Charlotte!" He fumbled for his phone, pulling up a short video from Night Talk where Charlotte had been interviewed there. He held the screen up excitedly. "Listen! Her voice! it’s exactly the same!"

The woman’s eyes widened in realization. "Oh my God... and that guy next to her, that’s Damon Sullivan! His deep voice is way too recognizable."

She grabbed her boyfriend’s arm, practically jumping with excitement. "This is huge! If this gets out, the internet is going to explode!"

Another woman who overheard their conversation gasped. "Damn ... are they dating?"

"Take their picture! Now!" someone else shouted excitedly.

Meanwhile, Charlotte and Damon remained blissfully unaware that several people had already started snapping secret photos of them. They wandered through the Night Market a little longer, enjoying the lively atmosphere, before finally deciding to head home.

As they walked toward the car, Charlotte smiled. "Ah, do you think my dad will be mad that you’re bringing his daughter home past 9 PM?"