Chapter 293 Stay a Few More Hours
Ashley had this crazy long dream.
She dreamt Steven dragged her into this pitch-black cave, and her hands and feet were all chopped off. No matter how much she cried and screamed, she couldn't stop him.
Then, out of nowhere, the ground started shaking, and the cave cracked open. The ground collapsed, and the whole place caved in.
She fell into this pit filled with dry grass. It was like a safe little nest, and she didn't feel any pain, actually felt kinda comfy.
The wind blew through the dry grass, tickling her face.
She reached out to scratch, and instead of grass, she touched something warm.
Ashley opened her eyes and saw a face, super close up.
She was holding the hand of the guy with that face.
Damian, with his injured arm hanging, was right there. His face was so close, his bright eyes reflecting her.
Ashley was out of it for a good three seconds, trying to figure out if this was a dream or real life. She tried to call out, "Mr. Hearst?"
Damian was wiping the cold sweat off her face. He had no clue what nightmare she had, but her face was drenched, her forehead and nose all wet.
He didn't move, letting her hold his hand. Her slender fingers gripping like she was punishing a criminal, "Awake?"She was even more confused, "Why are you in my room? How did you get in?"
Damian frowned, "Hmm?"
Ashley's head was still foggy, "I know what I'm saying. Why are you in my house?"
Damian put down the towel and glanced towards the window, "Look carefully, whose house is this."
Ashley's head was heavy, but her eyes were fine. She looked at the familiar floor-to-ceiling windows, the black curtains, and the big, spacious, tiered bedroom. It was Damian's house.
Damian saw the confusion in her eyes, thinking she couldn't remember, "What did Steven want with you?"
When Steven was mentioned, Damian seemed to freeze over, like he'd been drenched in snow all night.
Ashley suddenly remembered her last conscious moment from last night, her pupils dilating in anger and fear, "Where's Steven?"
She cursed inwardly, 'Damn it! Steven set me up, thinking I am a pushover.'
Damian said, "He should still be alive."
Ashley half-squinted her beautiful eyes, "Do you have him under your thumb?"
Damian said, "Aren't I here?"
Ashley went silent.
She couldn't have a normal conversation with Damian, so she decided not to, "Where's my phone?"
Damian took it out from the drawer of the bedside table, "It was noisy, so I turned it off for you."
Ashley turned on her phone and saw a bunch of unread messages on WhatsApp, plus text messages about missed calls.
Last night, Hannah was frantically looking for her.
Ashley quickly called back, "Hannah..."
"Ashley! Where did you go yesterday? I came back with stuff and couldn't find you anywhere. No one answered the phone, and then it was turned off. Are you okay?" Hannah said.
Ashley had inhaled a lot of aromatherapy last night. Her mind was awake, but her body was sluggish, her limbs soft and weak. She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to use too much energy, "I'm fine. I ran into an old friend with a special status and went out temporarily."
"That's good! There was a conflict at the restaurant yesterday. I don't know the details, but a private room door was kicked down. Wow, kicked down with one kick! I wonder who has such strong legs, probably a soccer player." Hannah said.
Hearing this, Ashley glanced at the "suspected soccer player." Did he really kick down the door?
She always knew Damian was strong, but that kind of power was next level!
"Really? That's some serious strength. You head back to the law firm and check the materials first. I'll come later. Tell Mr. Brin I have something to handle and won't make the meeting," Ashley said.
Hannah didn't pry further, nodding understandingly, "Okay, I'll deal with him for you! Ashley, is your throat sore? I'll grab you some throat lozenges."
Ashley felt a warm glow in her heart, "Sure, thanks."
Putting down the phone, Ashley confirmed that Damian was indeed the one who saved her last night. The lingering Tahitian scent in her memory was his, and Steven's current situation—she didn't need to think too hard to know—was probably miserable.
Holding the phone, feeling it warm up in her hand, Ashley still didn't know how to continue talking to Damian.
Seeing her pursed lips, Damian took the initiative, "You don't need to thank me. Emerald Lakeside Gardens is my turf. If someone causes trouble on my watch, I naturally have to step in and handle it."
His explanation made sense but still felt a bit off.
"Were you at Emerald Lakeside Gardens yesterday?" Ashley asked.
Damian replied confidently, "Victor wanted to talk business."
She remembered Victor's assistant looking for Steven midway, saying Victor had something to discuss with him. Given Damian's status and relationship with Victor, no matter how inconsiderate Victor was, he wouldn't schedule two people in one night.
However, if not for this, how could Damian's presence there be explained?
Ashley's head hurt from overthinking. She figured her brain would definitely get worse in the future, having been concussed twice and poisoned once.
"In that case, I won't trouble Mr. Hearst any further." Ashley lifted the quilt, but before she could get out of bed, she felt a dizzy spell, her hand reaching out to steady herself on the headboard.
Damian's hand was already there, stopping just two centimeters away from her. Seeing her steady herself, he pulled back, "You inhaled a special hallucinogen. Although the poison is cleared, there may still be side effects. This stuff messes with your mind. If you don't want to impair your intelligence, I suggest you rest for a few more hours. But it's up to you."
He spoke so calmly and reasonably that it made her thoughts seem petty.
Ashley closed her eyes to regulate her breathing, suppressing the waves of dizziness, "I'm fine. I'll rest at home just the same."
Damian didn't push but brought over the prepared medicine, "Take it with you. If you have side effects, call a doctor."
Ashley lowered her head, taking the shopping bag, which was heavy and probably filled with many things, "Thank you, Mr. Hearst."
Damian's lips seemed to have built a fortress, heavily guarded, unable to speak.
She said, "Thank you," so let it be. As long as she was willing to talk to him.
He watched Ashley struggle to put on her clothes and shoes, walk across the foyer carpet, and head toward a place where he could barely see her.
Damian suddenly quickened his pace, "Ashley."
Ashley, holding the shopping bag, didn't turn back, "Mr. Hearst, anything else?"
Damian stood under the chandelier, the heavy French-style lamp almost crashing down on his head, heavily suppressing every inch of his emotions.
Then, he casually grabbed a car key from the key box, not even changing his slippers, and strode past her, opening the door, "I'll drive you back. You can't drive like this."
