Callie’s eyelids twitched, and she felt an inexplicable anxiety, unsure if it was because of her recent narrow escape.
She let him comfort her, finally leaning into his embrace. At first, she didn’t want to speak, but after a long while, sensing Nelson’s patience waning, she finally spoke, “The layout of this hotel needs to be changed.”
The feeling of being utterly helpless left her deeply unsettled.
If… if Regan hadn’t appeared, what would she have done? If Regan had chosen not to help, what then?
Nelson shared the same fear, his expression becoming more stern. “Yes, it needs to be changed.”
Not just changed, but completely overhauled.
In the following two months, this most renowned hotel in Ylosea underwent a major renovation. It was rumored that Nelson invested tens of millions until he was satisfied with the changes. As for Lance’s family, they were not spared. Initially, Nelson had held back from complete destruction, but now…
It was all blood.
Of course, that’s a story for another time.
The road was blocked for the moment, so Nelson turned around and took another route, bringing her to another residence in Ylosea.
He rarely stayed there, and there were no servants, making it very quiet.
Passing through the small courtyard, Callie looked up from his arms and saw two lights glowing under the porch.
Nightlights guide the way home.
The man patted her shoulder and placed her on the bed in the master bedroom. The single-story villa had lush greenery outside the master bedroom, with water dripping into a pool, creating a clear and pleasant sound.
Perhaps because he rarely came here, Nelson seemed to have forgotten the layout. He got up to find the necessary items while Callie lay on the bed, watching the busy man with half-closed eyes.
Her feelings were complicated.
If the current Nelson was the gentleman she remembered, then the brutality and coldness from a few days ago seemed like another person entirely. She couldn’t understand how one person could possess such contrasting qualities.
It made her heart ache.
Due to the sudden change in plans, the doctor couldn’t come immediately. Nelson found the first aid kit and gently treated her scrapes.
“Didn’t you think to run?” he asked softly.
Callie’s voice was weak, “Would running have helped?”
“A door away. Once inside, it would have helped.”
Callie closed her eyes, unwilling to recount Lance’s swift and ruthless actions.
She looked like a broken porcelain doll. Nelson glanced at her, then withdrew his cold gaze and went to wash his hands.
When he returned, Callie had curled up in a corner of the bed with the blanket pulled over her head. It was unclear if she was asleep.
Nelson stood at the door for a moment, then turned off the light and left.
That night he stayed in the study. He didn’t sleep; he just sat on the sofa, watching as the sky gradually lightened. His dark eyes were filled with calculations and plans.
By dawn, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts.
Nelson rubbed his temples and checked his private phone. There were many missed calls, most from Cora.
“What is it?” he called back.
“Bad news, Mr. Oconnor. The person who had an accident at the construction site suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage last night and didn’t make it. The media found out.” Cora spoke urgently. “I wanted to come directly to you, but because of… Miss Marsh, I hesitated.”
Nelson’s eyes gleamed sharply. “Only a few people knew about this. How did the media get wind of it?”