Chapter 4

I really hadn't expected it.

Her childhood sweetheart was willing to go this far for her.

I couldn't help but marvel.

Celeste truly had a gift for enchanting men.

I wondered what her face would look like if she saw this.

I pressed my foot down, showing zero mercy.

He stayed upright on his knees, the corners of his eyes flushing crimson, veins bulging across his clenched fists.

Yet he didn't move an inch.

He looked like he was enduring agonizing torment.

Until I got bored. Sweeping my gaze up and down his frame, I chuckled softly:

"Seems like you don't care about Celeste all that much after all."

His Adam's apple bobbed. He kept silent.

"Go clean up in the bathroom," I said dismissively. "Don't mess up my floor."

Right then, my phone buzzed.

An incoming call from Damian.

I frowned, but picked it up anyway.

"Celeste caught a chill. She's burning with a fever," Damian snapped, his tone foul.

I felt exasperated. "Then call a doctor. Why the hell are you calling me?"

Julian's voice cut in through the line:

"The storm flooded the access roads. The doctor can't get through."

Damian demanded, "You always carry an emergency kit. I'm coming over to get medicine."

I swallowed my irritation. "It's the middle of the night. What if I was already asleep?"

Damian sneered coldly. "Then I'd kick your damn door down."

Before I could lose my temper, Julian added, "We're already outside."

My face shifted.

At that exact moment, the young man walked out of the bathroom.

The very next second, heavy knocks pounded against the door.

I shoved him straight back into the bathroom, hissing a low warning:

"Stay quiet and stay hidden."

Then, I swung the door open.

Damian had a frail Celeste cradled in his arm. He barked impatiently:

"Where's the medicine?"

Taking a deep breath, I turned to dig through my suitcase.

Julian stepped inside to help me look.

Standing in the doorway, Damian glared at me, his voice icy:

"If you hadn't suggested this resort trip to our parents, she wouldn't have gotten sick in the first place."

I stared at him in disbelief.

Now this was my fault too?

I gritted my teeth. "Did I tell you to bring your little mistress here? Are you out of your mind? How dare you pin this on me?"

Julian said dismissively, "Stop bickering. Celeste isn't feeling well."

I only had a couple of basic meds with me.

They were just for emergencies, after all.

After taking the blister pack, Julian furrowed his brow:

"Next time, pack a wider variety."

Excuse me?

Damian cursed under his breath, raising his phone to dial:

"I know the road is blocked! Is there no other way? Get the doctor here now!"

Julian grabbed the meds and turned to leave.

As he passed the sofa, his steps halted. His gaze locked onto something.

I followed his eyes.

Draped across the armrest was an unmistakable men's dress shirt.

...Belonging to the guy currently hiding in my bathroom.

The very shirt he'd been wearing when he arrived soaked from the storm.

Room service had washed and dried it, delivering it right to my door.

And I had tossed it casually onto the couch.

"Whose is this?" Julian demanded.

His voice carried to the hallway.

Damian lifted his chin, glancing over.

He didn't care much at first. "It's just a shirt."

Yet in his arms, Celeste's eyes landed on the fabric and went wide with shock.

Her lips trembled, her feeble voice spiking in panic:

"Why is Tristan's shirt here?"