Charlotte didn’t recognize the man but was unnerved by his presence, and the words came out instinctively.
Nick’s brow furrowed, his gaze locking on Khloe. She was disheveled-hair loose, face unnaturally flushed, ” fragile and pitiful in a way she rarely allowed herself to appear.
“Bring her to me.”
The command was firm. Charlotte hadn’t even processed it when Khloe was already in his arms. Despite her height, she seemed delicate in his embrace, almost catlike against his broad chest.
“Wait-“
Charlotte froze, about to run after them, but someone blocked her way.
Lenny explained briefly, “Mr. Hunt is Miss Roswell’s fianc?. He will take her home. You’ve done enough; we’ll have someone escort you separately.”
“…Okay,” Charlotte nodded. She hadn’t heard Khloe mention a fianc? before, but the surname Hunt and the earlier phone call had clicked. Seeing the bodyguards lined up, she knew she couldn’t follow anyway.
Khloe was carried to the car. Lenny hurried to open the door, and Nick, holding her in his arms, coldly ordered, You don’t need to follow. Check on those men inside the private room. I want to know exactly what happened.”
“Yes, Sir,” Lenny responded immediately, understanding completely.
Nick had arrived later than expected, but seeing Khloe in such a state, he didn’t need any explanation-she had been targeted, deliberately made to drink. As his betrothed, anyone who dared to harm her would face consequences.
The backseat was spacious. He considered laying her down, but Khloe clung stubbornly to his collar, her body heavy.
He raised a hand, paused, and didn’t move her. The warm scent of alcohol and her soft body enveloped him, yet she slept with surprising calm, her breathing steady, lips faintly moving
How much did she drink?
His brow furrowed slightly as he gently tilted her chin with a gloved hand, seeking a clearer view of her face in the dim light.
“You sleep so deeply…” he murmured. “To drink so carelessly… do you truly fear nothing?”
A soft, mumbled reply drifted to him from her lips.
“With… you here… I’m not afraid”
Nick swiftly moved her aside.
Without his support, her body swayed and settled against the seat, one hand rising to massage her temple. Though exhaustion clouded her senses and sleep tugged at her consciousness, a dull throbbing in her head kept her from fully drifting off.
Nick’s words reached Khloe’s ears, and she murmured a reply.
Nick thought of how she had been pressed close against his chest just moments ago. His voice dropped, low and controlled, “You’re not asleep?”
“I… I was so tired earlier I could barely keep my eyes open… but I knew, Mr. Hunt, that you were here.”
Khloe tilted her head back, eyes still heavy and barely open, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know how you got here, but with you… I don’t think anyone could dare hurt me now… I just want to rest a bit…”
The alcohol muddled her thoughts. She spoke without coherence, saying whatever came to mind, but the meaning was clear.
Something stirred in Nick. She trusted him-truly trusted him. And the word “hurt” lingered in his mind, filling him with a flicker of guilt. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Not late… just in time.” Khloe pressed her dry lips together, voice thick with haze. “I finished everything… now I can rest.”
“Rest here, with me?”
“Mhm.”
He asked casually, and she murmured her assent, her voice soft and unsteady. A smile threatened his lips. He had seen her twice before, she had seemed serious and composed, yet here she was-loose, disheveled, yet somehow endearing. The drunk, unfocused look on her face wasn’t unpleasant at all; if anything, it was oddly charming.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. Lenny had sent him a video.
He glanced at Khloe, curled in the corner of the seat, slipping gradually into a heap. Unsure if she was asleep, he slipped on his headphones and watched.
The footage made his expression darken instantly. The men in the private room had been far worse than he imagined forcing drinks, harassing her, leering.
He took off the headphones and sent Lenny two words: [Handle them.]
“Khloe.”
He set the phone aside, his voice low and firm as he spoke her name again. After a long moment, she murmured a faint “Mm.”
“Come here.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.