Chapter 143 After Drinks
Samuel hung up the phone, took out the ring box from his pocket, and played with it between his fingers. He gazed into space, lost in thought.
Finally, he texted: Have a good rest tonight. Mr. Vandella will pick you up tomorrow.
Rushing over now would only stress her out, and she might think he didn't trust her.
Since the proposal had to be postponed, it was better for her to have a peaceful rest in City C. Next time, he'd be more prepared.
"Take me to the city hospital," Samuel said, then closed his eyes.
After all, her feelings mattered most.
...
City C.
Mr. Lee and the team took turns toasting Layla.
She insisted not to drink, but after a few refusals, the mood soured. At a social event, nothing offended people more than turning down a drink.
Mr. Lee, trying to save face in front of Nathan, wore a feigned cheer, but his tone was edged. "Miss Young, we're old enough to be your dad here; aren't you being a little disrespectful? With your capabilities at work, I bet you can hold your liquor. Don't be so modest. At least three glasses, come on."
Mr. Lee, determined, held out two glasses towards her.
With no way out, Layla was about to reluctantly reach for a drink, but Nathan took them from Mr. Lee's hand.
"She doesn't drink. I'll drink for her."
"Mr. Marley, you're still recovering. Let me do this," Layla said urgently.
Nathan downed the drink in one go.
"Here's to Mr. Marley's excellent tolerance!"
Worrying about Nathan's injury, Layla wanted to urge him not to drink, but he had already clinked glasses with a few others. Nathan wasn't much of a drinker himself; mixing red and white wine, he felt dizzy after a few glasses and braced himself against the table.
Layla quickly took a glass from Mr. Lee and sipped half a glass of red wine. "Mr. Lee, Mr. Marley is injured and shouldn't drink much. Let's call it a night."
A victorious glint swept through Mr. Lee's eyes.
They had all had drinks; it should be enough.
"Alright, alright, the point is to enjoy ourselves. Let's call it a night. Make sure Mr. Marley and Miss Young get back safely."
"Of course," Layla said, supporting Nathan as they left the private room.
Mr. Lee quietly pulled out his phone and whispered, "Mission accomplished, Eilish. They've had their drinks and are heading back now."
Nathan's head was spinning from the drinks, but he had to stay sharp tonight—he hadn't made his confession yet. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but the dizziness persisted.
It seemed he wasn't the only one feeling off-kilter; Layla's head was spinning too. Odd, she thought: half a glass of wine shouldn't hit her this hard. Finally, with much effort, she escorted Nathan to his hotel room door. "Mr. Marley, here we are. Get some rest," she said.
"Don't go..." Nathan caught her hand, "I've got something to tell you."
"My head is spinning. Can we talk tomorrow?" Layla just wanted to crash and sleep it off.
"No, it has to be tonight!" In a rush, Nathan fished out his key card, swiped it, and pulled her into the room.
"Mr. Marley?"
The room was dimly lit, with candles flickering, setting a romantic ambiance.
Layla looked around, dazed. "Wh-why are there so many candles and roses?"
On the bed lay an adorable giant teddy bear.
"Mr. Marley, are we in the wrong room? Did we stumble into someone else's honeymoon suite?"
"This is for you. I prepared it. Layla—I like you," Nathan steadied himself as best as he could, the alcohol lighting up his eyes with a fierce glow. He took her by the shoulders.
"Mr. Marley, what are you saying? You must be mistaken."
"I'm not. Layla, I really like you. You like me too, right? Let's be together. I—I really like you, Layla..." Nathan's gaze locked onto her lips, his body burning with heat, and he kissed her fervently.
"Mr. Marley, don’t..."
"Let me go...mmmf..." Layla struggled, but his searing kiss branded her lips.
"Mr. Marley..." she pushed against him, but her arms were weak.
Their feet shuffled, unsteady, until they both collapsed onto the couch.
"Mr. Marley..."
Fifteen minutes later, two masked female staff entered the room to find them passed out on the couch.
Together, they managed to carry the pair to the bed, stripped off their clothes, scattering them across the floor. They positioned them tightly in each other's arms, one's hand around the other's waist, legs entwined, leaving the sheets crumpled and creased.
After snapping a photo and sending it off, they left as silently as they had arrived.
...
Elsewhere, a pair of eyes glanced over the photo of the naked man and woman.
Those blue irises, colder now, were stripped of their usual softness.
Nora took a sip of her whiskey.
She never imagined she'd stoop to such tactics. Life sure was unpredictable, she mused; you never knew how it would shape you.
If she had been more ruthless, it wouldn't have been a sleeping potion, it might have been something... more enchanting.
The last of the whiskey burned down her throat, and with it, the promise that tomorrow would hold untold wonders.
A mocking smile played at the corner of her red lips.
...
Layla stirred from a prolonged nightmare, barely registering reality.
The morning sun jabbed at her eyelids, forcing her awake.
Her head spun, and her eyelids were leaden. Squinting, she glimpsed a blurred male figure before her. A heavy arm that slung around her waist made it hard to breathe.
“Mmm... ah, Samuel... your hand is so heavy, I... I can't breathe...” she murmured breathlessly, weakly pushing against him, “Samuel...”
Layla forced her unwilling eyes open to a world of white haze, she could make out a man's profile.
She tried harder, and as her vision began to clear. She saw the contours of his arms, his chest, his chiseled chin, and eventually... those eyes—a face remarkably handsome.
Reality struck her like a bolt of lightning. This man wasn't Samuel, it was... Nathan!
And more horrifying—their bodies were naked and intertwined.
“Ah—” Startled, Layla screamed, her pupils dilating as she kicked him off and scrambled back in terror. She fumbled for the sheets, clumsily covering her nudity, “What... what are you doing here?”
Jolted awake by her kick, Nathan's eyes flew open to meet Layla's panicked gaze—his mind still fuzzy.
“Layla? What's up?”
“What did you do to me, you jerk!” she shouted, grabbing a pillow to slam against his head.
“What did I do? Me?” As clarity assaulted Nathan, he suddenly realized his naked state.
He saw Layla, wrapped up in the bedsheet, her hair in disarray, glaring at him with eyes that were red with anger and tears.
Looking around, their clothes littered the floor in disheveled heaps from the doorway to the bedside.
It was evident... something had happened after last night’s drinking.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
