Chapter 585 Kiss
Lawrence R. wanted to strangle this woman.
He looked at her pitifully, but her words shattered his heart.
Leaning against the door frame, he paused for a moment before walking in. He stood high and mighty like an emperor, coldly staring down at her miserable face. With one hand slowly inserted into his pocket, he chuckled lightly, "I'm sorry. Should I leave and let Rock come in again?
"But will he save you in a one-on-one with Patrick? He doesn't have that ability, he's just a coward."
The man ruthlessly struck her, his sarcasm cutting to the bone.
Winnie trembled for a moment, her nerves gripped by his deep voice, her scattered pupils trying to look up.
Until they rested on the man's dark and mature features, each line sharp and cold. Her intuition just now was correct. It really was him.
For a moment, her heart pricked with a slight pain, as if a wound had been cauterized.
He was the one who had hurt her countless times. Yet, he was still the one who extended a helping hand.
Could this cycle have been changed?
She concealed her bitter smile and unusual emotions deep in her heart, calming herself to feign surprise, "Is it you?"
Lawrence R.'s attractive thin lips curled up, "I see your disappointment."
A flicker of a smile, devoid of warmth, danced in his eyes for a fleeting moment. Then, with a bored turn, he muttered, "I'll let Patrick continue."
Winnie's temples throbbed. The terrifying experience of almost suffocating from white wine, she didn't want to experience it again.
She glanced back at the water in the toilet and the bodyguard covered in blood. As the man's leather shoes lifted, her survival instinct drove her to crawl over, grabbing his trouser leg in a disheveled state.
The expensive fabric of his trousers gripped in her palm, cold and hard, just like his icy aura. The man's slender ankles suddenly froze.
Winnie looked up, her eyes moist and helpless, biting her cherry lips.
He saw it all. From his vantage point, she looked disheveled, soft yet pitiful, but her eyes couldn't deceive him; she hadn't truly surrendered in her heart, didn't really want to seek his help.
However, the reality forced her not to want to die.
Lawrence R.'s gaze darkened, gazing at her with elegance and laziness, speaking coldly, "Deep down, you don't want me to save you. You were so proud, now won't let me leave either? To save or not to save you, you say it yourself?"
Tears welled up in Winnie's eyes. He toyed with her self-esteem, stepping on her.
It was the mention of Rock that had triggered him.
She understood and gritted her teeth painfully as she blurted out, "Save me."
Seeing her tightly clenched teeth, her face turning red, Lawrence R.'s cold eyes darkened, the alcohol on her body almost suffocating him.
He reached out his broad hand, coldly pulling her up, "How much did they make you drink?"
"Two bottles."
That meant two pounds of white wine.
Lawrence R. narrowed his eyes, the woman in his hand completely weak, exhaling more than inhaling, gasping for breath, a few strands of long hair soaked in dirty water, her face pale like a ghost.
He held her slender waist and immediately moved her toward the sink. Placing her face down on the washbasin, he pressed the faucet. His large palm exerted a gentle force, yet it was still dominant, pushing her head under the faucet.
Winnie was confused, all the movements seemed slow in her mind. However, she was also vigilant, not knowing what Lawrence R. was up to.
Why continue to drown herself?
She felt uncomfortable and instinctively resisted, flailing, "I don't want to touch the water!"
"What do you want to do? Don't press me, Rock, Rock, save me."
She was incoherent, panicking and speaking out of turn.
The hand pressing on the back of her head suddenly stopped. Lawrence R. looked in the mirror at his eyes gradually replaced by anger, pitch black. His patience was wearing thin.
"Who are you calling?" he asked calmly.
"Don't pour water on me!" Winnie didn't understand why he continued to torment her. She was afraid to stay here. If he didn't take her away, leaving her in the bathroom, what did he want to do? She struggled to push him away. "Don't touch me, Rock, Olivia, where are you?"
At that moment, she was utterly helpless. Compared to the fallen bodyguard, Lawrence R. was a more terrifying presence. His patience was running out. Her repeated calls of Rock sounded soft and pleasant. Assuming Rock was here now, seeing her intoxicated like this, she might succumb to alcohol poisoning in the next second.
She struggled weakly, her slender figure and hips constantly resisting. What would happen between her and Rock in this narrow bathroom?
Weren't they supposed to get married?
Everything might just fall into place. Just imagining that scene ignited a firestorm in Lawrence R.'s mind, causing him to lose control instantly.
He grabbed her long hair, exposing her fair cheek, staring at her wet and trembling thick lashes, his gaze sliding to her slightly parted red lips.
She was utterly drained.
He just wanted her to vomit.
At that moment, he lowered his head, his large palm gripping her head, and he kissed her fiercely.
"You! Lawrence R., are you out of your mind?"
Winnie was stunned for several seconds, then began to struggle desperately. However, her fists were as weak as cotton, unable to resist his increasingly tight chest.
Lifting her up, he placed her on the sink, forcing her to grab the edge with both hands.
The situation spiraled out of control. Her tears fell incessantly as she struggled, her cheeks flushed in a tangle of alcohol and smoke, her emotions reaching a peak of sadness and anger.
However, her expression gradually became dazed. In Lawrence R.'s pitch-black and icy eyes, desire mixed with hatred as he watched her change.
He blocked her soft breath, her gaze making him jealous and hateful. His gaze shifted to her abdomen, a sharp pain flashed through his mind.
Lawrence R. forcefully grabbed her abdomen as if to crush it. "For the sake of marrying Rock, completely getting rid of me, you aborted our child. Now, should I retaliate against Rock, before your wedding, by having you once?"
Winnie couldn't bear it anymore, her fleeting confusion turning into self-mockery. She slapped his cheek.
At the same time, a strong sense of nausea surged from her stomach. She suddenly pushed him away, fell off the sink, covered her mouth, then climbed back up and vomited uncontrollably into the sink.
Lawrence R. watched her messy but expected reaction, wiped his thin lips with the tips of his fingers. The palm print on his cheek, the five small fingers, he touched it too. His eyes regained their cold and ruthless look as he tossed a box of tissues at her and left with his tall, cold figure.
Winnie vomited until she felt like her stomach was going to turn inside out. It was extremely uncomfortable, but after vomiting, the unbearable feeling immediately eased a bit. Her head no longer throbbed like it was about to explode, and her breathing became much smoother.
She came to her senses, only to find that the man had already left the bathroom. If the intense kiss just now hadn't felt so real, she would have doubted whether Lawrence R. had been there at all. He had been there.
Winnie looked down at the bleeding bodyguard on the floor. She cleaned herself up, opened the door exhaustedly, and nervously glanced outside the private room.
Patrick's figure was not outside.
In the end, Lawrence R. did save her; he didn't go back on his word.
Her emotions were complicated as she covered her bitten lips, staggering out.
Outside the private room, Olivia stood weakly in front of Lawrence R..
There was a wound on the man's lips, and Olivia stared at it for a long time, hearing him coldly ask, "What secret does she hold about Patrick?"
Olivia glanced quietly at Room 088 and roughly guessed that Winnie had been saved by him.
Grateful and trembling in her heart, she immediately spoke up.
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