Chapter 4
Outside, rain poured from the sky in sheets.
I didn’t know how long I wandered until I was cornered by a group of thugs in a dark alley.
“You’re Mrs.Corwin, right?” The one with a scar sneered as he stepped closer.“Someone paid us to teach you a lesson. Gotta say, the richest man’s wife sure is a looker. Bit flat–chested, but that face is real sweet.”
I instinctively called Damien Corwin. On the other end, I heard his gentle voice coaxing someone to sleep.“Delphine, if your head hurts, just sleep.”
“Damien! Help-‘
“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”He
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hung up. When I tried again, the phone was off.
Cold rain mixed with tears and trickled into the corners of my mouth–salty and bitter.
“No one’s coming here. Be good and have a little fun with us, babe.”
One of the thugs grabbed my collar, his filthy fingers scraping across my collarbone.
I shut my eyes tightly, my nails digging deep into my palms.
Then–thuds and groans exploded around
- me.
The pain I braced for never came.
I opened my eyes, trembling. The thugs were sprawled across the alley, groaning in agony.
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My knees buckled and I crouched down, body limp with the shock of narrowly escaping disaster.
At the end of the alley, a tall figure strode toward me through the rain. Black leather shoes splashed water with every step.
“Can you stand?”
A slender, veined hand extended toward me -still stained with drying blood.
I followed the hand upward–and met a pair of seductive eyes, glinting with danger under the rain–soaked night.
There was a lazy, devil–may–care smile on his face.
I recognized him. He was Damien Corwin’s
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longtime rival–Alistair Fenwyck.
His reputation in our circle was terrible. Everyone said he was a degenerate playboy who had slept with more women than one could count. Rumor had it he spent every day drowning in pleasure and debauchery, hollowed out long ago by his lifestyle.
Every time Damien mentioned him, he would frown.“Alistair Fenwyck is nothing but a good–for–nothing. No one in our circles can stand him.”
I’d seen him once at a party. He was, admittedly, handsome. But he had a vulgar, busty woman clinging to him–completely out of place at the formal event. He, however, was perfectly at ease greeting everyone. Ever since, my impression of him had been terrible.
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I opened my mouth to speak–but blacked out and collapsed forward.
Strong arms caught me just in time.
Right before I lost consciousness, I caught a faint whiff of his cologne–clean and woody, mixed with rain and the metallic tang of blood.
When I came to, I was lying in a beautifully decorated, French–style bedroom.
Sunlight filtered softly through sheer curtains. On the nightstand were several delicate porcelain dolls–the exact limited edition set I had always wanted but never managed to buy.
“You’re awake?“A lazy voice drifted in from the doorway.
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Alistair Fenwyck leaned against the doorframe. He had changed into a crisp white dress shirt, and none of the rumored recklessness clung to him now.
In my haze, I blurted out, “You look… really good like this.”
He blinked in surprise, then suddenly let out a low chuckle. His Adam’s apple rolled gently with the sound.
It was only then that I realized what I’d said. My face flushed instantly, and I yanked the blanket up to cover half of it.
“They found out who was behind it, he said casually, dragging a chair over to sit by the bed. His long legs crossed effortlessly.
“It was Delphine Wynter. I’ve already taken care of it.”
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I stared at him in shock, clutching the blanket tighter without realizing it.
“What?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Thought I was just some womanizing airhead?”
The next morning, a team of doctors in white coats gathered around to run some tests on
- me.
Alistair leaned against the wall, nonchalant.“You kept clutching your
stomach unconsciously, so I called in my grandfather’s medical team to check it out.”
When the results came in, his expression darkened instantly.
Chapter 5
