Chapter 21

ScarlettPOV

My hands were shaking violently, and even though the temperature was pleasant, beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

The panic in my heart grew stronger; my current condition resembled the symptoms I experienced after taking my monthly medication. But this shouldn't be happening now—it was at least a week too early.

The liquid in that small bottle triggered my symptoms prematurely!

George's expression changed from concern to alertness.

"Scarlett, what's going on with you?" His voice was low as he frowned at me, his gaze filled with undisguised worry.

"Sorry, Mr. Harber," I managed to say, my speech slightly slurred. "I just had too much to drink..."

Faced with his genuine concern, I couldn't reveal the true reason and could only resort to a contemptible lie.

I struggled to stand up, but my knees gave way.

Seeing this, George hurriedly stepped forward, but I avoided his touch, shrinking back against the wall.

"Scarlett!" His tone became more severe, his brows tightly knit. "Are you sure you just had too much to drink?"

"I'm certain!"

Even though my fingers had torn through the wallpaper as I supported myself, I still forced myself to answer with conviction, while every cell in my body was screaming, longing to be closer to him.

The laughter and voices of investors and business partners continued to emanate from the main dining room, like sounds from another world.

No one knew what was happening in this corner of the hallway, but someone could come by and discover us at any moment.

George's gaze swept over my face, each scan seemingly trying to uncover my disguise.

After a while, he appeared to have made some decision and suddenly bent down to lift me up, his movements both gentle and firm, as if afraid I might break, yet also afraid I might escape.

I felt a wave of shame and helplessness wash over me, and could only weakly resist: "Put me down."

But my body betrayed me, involuntarily nestling against George's chest. In that moment, I felt a warmth I hadn't experienced in a long time.

"I'm taking you back to the hotel,"

George's tone brooked no argument as he carried me toward the elevator.

Miraculously, we didn't encounter anyone along the way, as if fate finally decided to grant me a small favor.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and there were already two people inside.

My vision was blurry, and it took a moment to focus on Alexander's tall figure and Noah, his bodyguard who always stood behind him.

Alexander raised an eyebrow slightly at the scene before him, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly.

"Mr. Harber," Alexander nodded in acknowledgment, his voice terrifyingly calm. "What an interesting evening, isn't it?"

George's face darkened. "Mr. Gray, didn't expect to see you in Suncrest City. Here on business or pleasure?"

The double meaning was unmistakable. Alexander's lips curled upward slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Perhaps both, just like you."

I wanted to speak up, to break this suffocating atmosphere, but another wave of dizziness washed over me like a tide, and I could only helplessly close my eyes, feeling as if I'd been thrown into boundless darkness.

"Excuse us," George said stiffly, walking past Alexander and Noah to exit the elevator.

I could feel the tension and determination in each of his steps.

As the doors closed, I managed to open my eyes and saw Alexander's expression.

It wasn't surprise or concern, but cold satisfaction, as if the pieces on his chessboard were moving exactly as he had expected.

Nestled against the cool leather seats of the car, I curled up by the door, staying as far away from George as possible.

In the quiet car, only my short, painful gasps could be heard.

The symptoms were intensifying—a familiar heat spreading to my lower abdomen. Simply sitting alone in the car was no longer enough to alleviate the burning sensation in my body; I longed for someone's touch.

Every month, I would take the medication Richard gave me, and I had to endure this torment each time.

But now, the drug was taking effect prematurely, and I wasn't prepared at all.

"Scarlett..." George's voice interrupted my thoughts. Since getting in the car, he had remained silent, staring straight ahead.

Now his gaze rested on my trembling hands, the concern in his eyes making me feel both warm and pained.

"Mr. Harber..." I tried my best not to moan out loud.

Yet inside, it felt as if countless ants were gnawing at me, every nerve screaming with desire for George.

"If you're feeling this bad, why did you refuse my help earlier?"

He moved a little closer, his voice carrying undisguised worry and a hint of hurt.

His large hand hovered above my shoulder, and I could almost smell his masculine pheromones. Just this was enough to make me nearly reach out to touch him.

Only a remnant of rationality made me instinctively shrink back, pressing myself more tightly against the car door.

"You have a fiancée."

I said these words almost desperately, my voice hoarse. This statement was also a reminder to myself, and for a moment, it was as if both of us gained clarity.

"If we... I would despise you."

George's hand froze, then slowly withdrew, his movement carrying painful restraint, while his handsome face flashed with a hint of shame.

I quickly added: "Sandra trusts you. You can't..." The words weren't finished, but they contained multitudes.

"Sandra and I are arranged by our families," George interrupted me, his voice tense. "I only see her as a sister."

"Then us being together would still be wrong." I said softly; there was no other possibility between us.

While waiting at a red light, pedestrians crossed in front of us. My vision briefly cleared, and I saw that we were approaching Central Park, still a few blocks away from the hotel.

A thought gradually formed in my clouded mind, and my gaze became increasingly determined.

When the car started moving again, my hand seemed to have a will of its own as it quickly pulled the door handle, and my body rolled forward, falling onto the sidewalk.

The pain that shot through my body upon landing was like an electric current, but it gave me momentary clarity.

"Scarlett!"

George's shocked cry rang out as I struggled to stand up, but the drug took effect, causing me to fall again.

George's car honked frantically, trying to turn around but trapped in traffic.

I staggered toward the sidewalk, with only one clear thought: to escape—escape from George, escape from that car.

If George eventually succumbed to the drug, it would be more painful than death itself.

“Suddenly, a piercing screech of brakes came from behind me. I turned around in panic; George shouldn't have broken free so quickly!”