Chapter 72 Why Are You Back?
Patrick was fuming. "This is your home! What are you doing out this late?"
Known for his volatile temper and domineering ways, Patrick was a figure to be feared by most, but not by Frederick. Frederick's tone chilled when he answered, "I had to retrieve some documents."
Acknowledging his limited authority, Patrick dismissed him with a wave. "Just go! Always the lawyer, fixing everyone else's problems, burning the midnight oil."
Frederick couldn't resist a smirk. "The Hawkins Group shells out $80 million a year for my legal expertise, Dad. Thought you were in the loop on that!"
Angrily, Patrick hurled a paper at him. "Get lost!"
Swiftly, Frederick made his exit.
Upon entering the car, he noticed Patrick had trailed behind, flinging open the door and snapping, "You're something else. Drank a river, and now you want to drive?"
Handing over the keys to the driver, Frank, Frederick stepped out.
A veteran in the family's employ, Frank sensed Frederick's foul mood and wisely maintained silence, driving him to his apartment without a word.
When they arrived, Frederick reclined in the seat, exhaling heavily. "Frank, you can head back now."
Frank departed reluctantly.
Remaining seated, Frederick pulled out a cigarette, igniting it with a flick of the lighter. His elegant fingers danced with the cigarette, the smoke swirling as he inhaled and exhaled. Amidst the swirls, a sense of release washed over him.
After indulging in several cigarettes, he exited the car, entering the apartment.
Inside, the living room lay in a subdued glow, the moonlight seeping through the curtains, casting a romantic hue across the space.
Tossing his coat aside, he silently entered the master bedroom, activating a bedside lamp.
Charlotte was asleep peacefully, her angelic face nestled on the pillow, golden locks cascading around her, a vision of beauty.
Tenderly, Frederick's hand glided beneath the covers, caressing her softly.
Startled awake, Charlotte met his gaze. She allowed his touch without resistance.
Frederick lifted her head and kissed her deep and tender. Overcome with emotion, Charlotte pulled away, resting against his shoulder, her breath uneven. "Why are you back? You reek of alcohol."
Frederick explained, "Just had a few drinks earlier."
Embracing her on the bed, Frederick refrained from pushing further. Charlotte then suggested, "Take a shower, and I'll whip up something to eat."
Her voice was so gentle that Frederick couldn't help but kiss her again. In a tender moment, their kisses reignited with fervor, the chemistry palpable between them.
Charlotte hooked her arms around him, her slender fingers tracing delicate lines on his shirt. Both of them were deeply aroused.
Though tempted to proceed, Frederick opted for restraint, deciding tonight was too rushed for Charlotte. Reluctantly breaking the embrace, he proposed, "I'll shower. Make me some pasta."
Shedding his clothes in front of her, he sauntered into the bathroom, deliberately leaving them scattered—a subtle act noticed by Charlotte. Blushing, she gathered his clothing and deposited them into the laundry before hurrying to the kitchen. Swiftly, she prepared a delectable pasta dish embellished with greens, the aroma enticing.
Exiting the shower, Frederick settled at the dining table, savoring the meal. Despite his numerous social obligations, the comfort of a home-cooked meal held a special allure. While Charlotte's culinary flair wasn't extravagant, it suited his palate well.
Sweeping through work messages on his phone, he glanced at Charlotte. "Did you do something different with your hair?"
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