Her heartbeat quickened, like a series of rapid drumbeats, an uncontrollable sensation creeping up her spine.
She knew this wasn't the normal aftereffect of alcohol. Amidst the chaos, she recalled calmly that it was most likely when the waiter and the so-called police officer passed by her table and her glass jolted that someone had slipped something into her drink.
Who did it? The waiter or the supposed policeman? Estelle had no idea, but she could be sure that whoever drugged her was still in the restaurant, lurking in some corner, waiting for her to lose control.
Sera had already left.
Estelle strained to look out the window; night had fallen over the city. In the dazzling entertainment venue, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, there was no one who could help her. Given her current situation, she didn't dare trust anyone easily.
The only thing she could do was to pretend everything was fine and buy time, but that wasn't a long-term solution. With advanced technology came a disregard for human rights, and prohibited drugs could often be lethal, triggering severe reactions quickly. If the person taking the drug didn't satisfy its effects within the time frame, they could suffer serious heart damage or even death.
This was far more than just discomfort and losing composure.
Estelle had no choice but to try calling Aiden's name in desperation, but the private room was too far away; he wouldn't hear her. He was probably busy anyway and wouldn't have the energy to pay attention to her voice, even if he did hear it.
But the concentration of the drug continued to rise in her body, worsening her condition. As her last hope, she sent a signal to Crescent.
"Crescent... can you hear me?"
Crescent quickly responded, "I can hear you. What's the matter?"
"Come get me as soon as possible." Estelle said, "I'll send you my location."
That was the last of her strength. After the signal was cut off, Estelle had no more energy to say another word.
The drug controlled her body, and she couldn't resist the urge, instinctively reaching down. But she couldn't—this was a public restaurant; she couldn't lose control, nor could she reveal her condition.
She was about to succumb. Estelle furrowed her brows and gritted her teeth, forcing herself to move her hand away. The concentration of the drug was beyond normal limits, driving her nearly mad. On the brink of collapse, she bit her wrist. It was then that she suddenly heard someone call her name.
"Estelle?"
Estelle lifted her head, her unfocused eyes slowly recognizing Aiden, who had actually appeared before her.
He looked at her, his eyes flickering with shock, and without a word, he flipped her eyelid to examine her pupils. "You've been drugged."
Her rationality had been worn down, and she clung to Aiden's hand like a lifeline. Aiden surveyed their surroundings warily, comforting her, "It's okay, don't be afraid. I'll take you home."
Just as Estelle was about to go with him, someone burst through the door and grabbed her wrist.
She swayed, and Crescent caught her swiftly, glancing at Aiden before looking down and asking, "What's wrong?"
Estelle had no strength left, half-lidded eyes drooping as she leaned weakly against his shoulder. Crescent's coat carried a cool, damp scent of rain. In that instant, she became a bit clearer-headed, her rationality returning like a last flash of light. She looked at Aiden and said with difficulty, "I'm fine… I just drank too much, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable. Let's go home."
"What do you mean, drank too much? Estelle, you clearly…"
"Aiden." Estelle interrupted him, and Aiden paused.
"Thank you for your concern," she said softly, "but I won't trouble you with my affairs."
She held onto Crescent's arm, walking step by step out, each step feeling like descending into hell.
Unsteady on her feet, she reached the car where Crescent helped her open the door. Estelle suddenly gripped him. "I need service."
"I need service…" she whispered, "Can I have it many times?"
Crescent was somewhat taken aback but answered immediately, "Yes."
