Chapter 33
Heloise woke up the next afternoon, Benedict was not there, and chances were she wasn’t even in the same room as last night.
Everything in the room was spotless, including the bed, which clearly wasn’t the “crime scene” from the previous night.
She might’ve been out of her mind last night, but she knew things got too wild.
Benedict was rough last night, lucky for her it was the weekend.
She got out of bed barefoot, her legs were like jelly, almost took a dive, and had to grab the bed to sit back down, rubbing her sore waist and thighs.
Turns out, Benedict had whisked her away to his private estate last night.
Her bag was on the sofa, and on the coffee table was the proposal she had intended for Ritchie to look over, along with the contract she was always ready to whip out.
She walked over confused, and the bold signature of Benedict at the end of the contract was like a punch to her eyes.
She crumpled the contract with force, the sound of tearing paper echoing the ripping pain in her heart, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts of pain.
The door behind her opened, she turned, and there was Benedict, looking fresh as a daisy, and she didn’t hesitate to chuck the contract
at him!
Her throw was weak; the contract landed half a meter away from Benedict.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Her voice was raspy, her fierceness dwindling, only her bright eyes stubborn as hell.
Benedict was dressed in a dark grey cashmere sweater and black slacks, looking all dapper and intellectual – only Heloise knew the wolf that lurked beneath that sheep’s clothing.
A wolf that leaves nothing behind, not even bones.
He strode over leisurely, a smile in his voice as he looked at her pale, angry face, “Didn’t you always want this collaboration?”
“If you hadn’t been meddling, would Ritchie have denied me the opportunity?” Heloise choked out.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, she dodged. He saw the love bite he left behind her ear and his smile widened, “Am I less influential than him?”
“What do you think I am? Sleep with you and you sign the contract, is that what I am to you?”
It was utterly humiliating!
Heloise shook off his hand, ignoring the soreness in her legs, and stormed out of the room, only to be pulled back by Benedict.
“Rand is waiting downstairs; are you certain you want to go out looking like this?”
His estate, where she’d only been a few times, had few of her clothes in the wardrobe, mostly brought over last minute. She had worn one of his shirts after a bath he had drawn her at dawn.
Heloise was tall for a woman, the shirt barely covering her thighs, exposing her long, pale legs, revealing too much with any big
movement.
Benedict yanked her back.
“The contract has nothing to do with our affair last night, does that clear things up?”
He knew how to push her buttons. Heloise didn’t say a word, just put some space between them. Ironically, last night they clicked perfectly, but sober now, she knew their dynamic and the distance she should keep.
The cause and effect of these two incidents were indeed tricky; separately, no issue, but together, hard to swallow.
Heloise had her pride, and Benedict wasn’t one to explain himself.
The aches were a reminder of last night, “Did you drug me?”
Her mind was fragmented last night, completely off.
Benedict wouldn’t stoop so low as to drug her.
Neither would Kyrell, not that she knew him that well, but she trusted Jenkin.
“No.”
“Do you know who did?” Heloise looked him in the eyes.
But Benedict was too sly, his eyes always veiled, seemingly shrouded in fog, and when you thought you saw something, there was nothing.
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Chapter 33
“If it wasn’t you or Kyrell, then last night I…”
“There’s no ‘ifs“.” He cut her off.
She looked at his cool eyes and felt her heart sink, she had an inkling, “Was it Beverly?”
Benedict lit a cigarette, smoke billowing out as he spoke slowly, “Didn’t I say that wouldn’t happen again?”
Heloise’s eyes watered, she looked out the window.
This room faced the back garden, where she visited in spring. There were beautiful roses, the name of which she didn’t know, but the color was stunning, like rouge.
She nodded, her throat tight, “Sorry.”
She went to his main wardrobe, found a set of spring clothes that were barely suitable for autumn.
As she dressed, her vision blurred, tears dropping on the wooden floor, spreading into patches.
No matter what she said, Benedict wouldn’t believe her.
The Robinson family hosted last night’s party; Salome had shown her face in public with her, no one would dare drug her.
Even though first impressions are deadly, her gut told her it was Beverly.
Benedict was known for protecting his own, and Beverly was his fiancée.
Even if it was her, would he take action against Beverly for Heloise?
There was no way. She knew that.
After composing herself, she freshened up in the bathroom, noticing a pinprick on the inside of her elbow, almost invisible on her pale
skin.
She went downstairs and asked Benedict, who handed her a blood test report, “Roderic took it after you passed out, to see if there were any drugs left in your system.”
The report showed normal results.
“Thanks, Mr. Harrington.”
Heloise pocketed the report, but as she took a few steps, she felt dizzy and broke out in a cold sweat from low blood sugar – it was afternoon and she hadn’t eaten anything.
Benedict caught her limp body from behind, scolding her softly, “You and your stubbornness, gonna bite you in the back!”
Heloise was propped on a dining chair, he shoved a glucose supplement in her mouth, pushing a light meal towards her, “Roderic said you should eat something light.”
She had no appetite, but the appetizers looked tempting, especially the cold salad.
After a few bites, she realized half the bowl was gone.
Benedict sat opposite her, sipping coffee with ease.
“I’m full.” She put down her utensils.
He hummed, “Want Rand to take you back?”
With no cabs in sight, Heloise, for once, wasn’t being stubborn in refusing him.
Benedict passed her something and she glanced down to see it was her contract.
J
“Are you really letting go of this?” He had a mocking smile.
Heloise knew how to grin and bear it, taking it from his hand with that casual attitude of ‘hit and run, “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Sure enough, the next second Benedict’s expression darkened, his eyes warning her, “Bite the hand that feeds you? Watch your tone.”
Heloise flashed a smile, “Sorry, Mr. Harrington, I just don’t know how to sugar–coat things.”
The moment she got into the car, her phone rang. It was a call from the Harrington Mansion.
Lindsay didn’t usually call her on the landline.
She quickly answered, hearing Greer’s anxious voice, “Miss, the madam didn’t come home last night, and her cell phone’s off.”
