As a small employee, when the boss speaks, there's no reason not to follow.
On the way, the car was eerily quiet. I nervously placed my hands on my lap.
Soon, we arrived at the reserved private room, and Leander, fully in work mode, seemed like a completely different person. His every movement exuded an undeniable aura of competence.
During the conversation, it was easy to gain the client's trust, and the contract was signed.
Soon, the client's attention shifted to me. "This young lady came personally with Mr. Caldwell to negotiate the contract. She must be Mr. Caldwell's right-hand person. Why just sit there? Come, have a drink with me."
As he spoke, the client poured a full glass of white wine into my cup.
Looking at the glass, I was a little dazed.
I rarely drank, and my tolerance was terribly low.
But since I was out with Leander to discuss the contract, I had to do my best to serve the client. I closed my eyes and braced myself, preparing to down the whole glass.
Before I could, however, a large hand reached out and took the glass from my hand. Then, a deep voice sounded, "She's just a little girl who can't drink. Let me drink with you instead."
For the rest of the meal, Leander drank quite a bit, while I stayed completely sober.
Given his state, I originally thought that over the years, he must have trained himself to handle alcohol, but after the meal, I realized I was wrong. Leander began to stagger uncontrollably.
I had to help him, carrying him on my shoulder. But then, unexpectedly, he leaned closer to me in the elevator, pushing me against the corner. The scent of his cologne mixed with alcohol, overwhelming me and making me completely lost.
His long fingers gently pinched my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. "Belle, do you know? I love you. I really love you. Even though you left me three years ago, I still can't let go of you. Tell me, doesn't that make me pathetic?"
Hearing the bitterness in his voice, my heart felt like it was being tightly squeezed. It hurt so much.
I tried to pull away, but he suddenly grasped my wrist, his rough thumb rubbing the inside of my wrist, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
"Three years ago, you loved me. Why did you leave? Why? Why..."
Knowing he still loved me, my heart was filled with guilt, but I couldn't help but wonder why I had left him.
"You're drunk, let go of me."
I tried to push him away, but my hands landed on his solid chest, unable to move him. Instead, I felt the perfect contour of his body.
Three years had passed, and it seemed like he had only gotten more toned.
Realizing this, my face turned red, all the way to my ears...
Seeing my reaction, he smiled with satisfaction, his lips brushing against my skin. "Belle, your body's reaction can't lie. You still care about me, don't you?"
His hot breath sent a shiver through my sensitive skin, making it hard to control the trembling that followed.
At this point, our proximity was so close, and I started to sense that something was wrong with Leander.
I could see the sweat beading on his fair cheek, his brow furrowed in pain. He was clearly uncomfortable.
It was really uncomfortable, but he stubbornly refused to show it in front of me... But we spent so much time together back then, how could I not see through his disguise?
"Do you have any stomach medicine?"
He winced in pain, practically collapsing against the wall. Panicking, I started searching his body, trying to find something to ease his discomfort.
Back when we were together, he had struggled with stomach issues, and over the years, his condition had likely worsened due to his relentless work.
Now, in front of everyone, he was the high and mighty Leander Caldwell, but the pain he suffered in private was hidden from the world. Realizing this, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.
I searched for what felt like forever but couldn't find anything. I began to get anxious.
"I'll go buy some."
Before I could leave, Leander suddenly grabbed my wrist tightly. His voice was low, weak. "Just like before, please."
His words made me pause for a moment. Then, tentatively, I placed my hand on his stomach, gently massaging it.
My movements were soft, and as I saw his expression relax bit by bit, I asked with concern, "Do you feel any better?"
He nodded gently. "Yes."
At that moment, we both fell into an eerie silence, and this silence, in a way, felt like we were returning to the way things had been between us before.
We both savored the moment, silently trying to hold onto it.
