006: A Taste Of The Past

Elodie trailed behind Williams, her trembling fingers clutching her torn blouse together. Each step behind him felt like a countdown to something she wasn’t prepared for. The air was filled with unspoken words and bitter memories for him.

Williams didn’t slow his pace, his broad shoulders squared, his every movement controlled and precise. He walked ahead as if she weren’t even there, as if leading her somewhere was just an unfortunate errand he had to run.

Elodie bit her lip, her mind racing. Williams had saved her, yes...but she believed it was not out of kindness. There was no kindness in the way he had looked at her, no softness in his cold, detached expression. She could tell that he still hated her.

What surprised her was the fact that he had a VIP room. She had been working at the bar for a while but had never seen him there before.

When they reached the VIP room, Williams pushed the door open without sparing her a glance.

"Go on," he said, his voice impatient.

Elodie hesitated. The room was nothing like the world she had been reduced to...it was elegant, refined, the air filled with the rich scent of expensive liquor and polished wood.

She stepped inside cautiously, wrapping her arms around herself as if she could shield her vulnerability from him.

Williams shut the door behind them, the soft click filling the space between them.

She turned to him, her voice shaking slightly. "Thank you. I’ll just quickly use the bathroom and be out in no time..."

Williams didn’t respond. He simply walked toward the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink.

Elodie took that as permission and disappeared into the bathroom.

Williams sat down in the dimly lit living room, a glass of deep red wine swirling between his fingers. He took a slow sip, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

'Why is she living so miserably?' He wondered.

His jaw tightened.

Elodie Richards had once been untouchable. She had been powerful, confident, the CEO of a massive company. She had married a billionaire.

So why was she working in a bar? How did she end up at the mercy of that lowlife who tried to force himself on her earlier?

He had been so surprised when he walked into the bar with some business colleagues and saw her waiting tables.

Despite wanting nothing to do with her, his gaze has stayed on her. He had felt jealous when he saw her laughing with that lowlife earlier.

And when they left together, he turned his face away, telling himself that he did not care what she chose to do with her life.

However, he had lost interest in his meeting and ended up following her to see what she and that man were up to. Who would have thought that he would end up walking in on such a scene?

Seeing her torn blouse, he had felt like killing that man right there but he controlled his emotions. Afterall, Elodie was no one to him.

But why did she look so... pathetic?

His fingers curled around the glass as he took another sip, the liquid sliding down his throat.

It didn’t make sense to him. Nothing did.

She walked away from everything. She walked away from him. Wasn't it for financial gain?

Williams clenched his jaw, a storm brewing in his chest.

He heard the bathroom door creak open, pulling him from his thoughts.

Elodie stepped out cautiously, her face freshly washed, her disheveled hair falling loosely around her shoulders. The torn blouse was still clinging to her slender frame, revealing more skin than she probably realized.

His gaze swept over her and his heart skipped a beat.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he took another slow sip of wine.

"What happened to the Elodie I knew?" He suddenly asked.

Elodie swallowed as she heard his question, her fingers curling against the fabric of her blouse.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a single word out...

"Save it," Williams cut her off, his tone indifferent. "I don’t really care for your sob stories."

A flicker of pain crossed her face, so brief he almost missed it.

But Williams didn’t take it back. He didn’t soften.

She was nothing to him now.

Right?

Elodie looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something she wasn’t going to find. After a moment, she exhaled shakily and lowered her gaze.

Williams finished his drink, tilting his head back slightly as he emptied the glass.

Elodie watched him, a strange haze settling over her mind.

He looked impossibly handsome...the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his throat moved as he swallowed, the way his sleeves were rolled up slightly, exposing the veins on his forearms.

Her skin felt too warm.

Her heart pounded, but it wasn’t fear. It was something else, a yearning she had buried for so long.

No.

Realization hit her like a slap.

The drink.

Sam must have drugged it and.... it was taking effect.

"I can't stay here a second longer," she thought.

She turned quickly, her legs unsteady beneath her. "I’ll leave now," she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Williams said nothing as she made her way to the door.

But before she could reach for the handle, her vision swayed. Heat spread through her body, making her fingers tremble, making her knees weak.

She gasped.

No.

She forced herself to keep moving, but her legs gave out beneath her.

The room tilted.

And then...

Strong arms caught her just before she hit the floor.

Williams.

His grip was strong, unwavering. His scent...clean, masculine, intoxicating—filled her senses.

"Elodie!" Williams exclaimed, his panic palpable.

Her head lolled against his chest, as she began panting for breath.

"I… I feel hot, Williams. So hot."

Williams gritted his teeth. He wasn’t stupid, he knew. His mind flashed back to the bar, to the moment that man had given her a glass of drink.

'That bastard must have drugged her.'

A dangerous anger burned through him. But right now, that wasn’t important. Elodie was barely holding on.

Williams lowered her onto the couch, his hands cradling her face, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You’re safe now," he murmured. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

Elodie’s body was burning. She clutched at his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the heat inside her became unbearable.

Silence stretched between them as their gazes locked.

And then...

She moved closer.

Her lips brushed against his.

Soft and trembling.