Ryan thought Andrew’s worry was unnecessary. With Isabella’s skills, the chances of trouble were really slim.
He stood at the alley entrance, bored, smoking a cigarette. After finishing his cigarette, Isabella hadn’t stopped. The two people lying on the ground had their voices weakening, breathing less and exhaling more.
Ryan was afraid she might cause a fatality. He dropped the cigarette butt and hurried over, reaching out to grab Isabella.
However, she already had red eyes. She swung a fist at him, and if Ryan hadn’t dodged quickly, he might have had his face rearranged.
“Stop hitting. It’ll be messy if someone dies,” Ryan said, grabbing Isabella’s arm and exerting some force to pull her out of the situation.
Isabella slumped by the roadside, refusing to move, hugging her knees and crying softly.
Ryan had a headache. He was now certain that the girl was seriously drunk.
Ryan was at a loss about what to do with her, so he called Andrew to come and pick her up.
The bar wasn’t far from the apartment, and Andrew quickly arrived.
When Andrew arrived, Isabella was still sitting on the roadside, singing loudly.
Standing a few steps away from her, Ryan had a worried expression. Seeing Andrew was like seeing a savior. However, when he saw Andrew’s face clearly, he was stunned for a moment, almost blurting out, “What happened to Alpha’s face?”
Thankfully, Ryan wasn’t someone who spoke without thinking. He swallowed the words.
There were clear finger marks on Andrew’s face, obviously from being slapped. Besides that little sprite Isabella, Ryan couldn’t think of anyone else who dared to slap Alpha.
“Why are you here?” Andrew asked.
“I was afraid the people you sent weren’t reliable, so I followed her myself. Your girl just drank a dozen bottles of alcohol at the bar, beat up two guys who tried to hit on her, and has been sitting on the road singing. Ever heard of ‘The End of the World’? I reckon in her eyes, you’re just a scoundrel who cheats on her, cheats her body, cheats her feelings,” Ryan summarized.
Andrew ignored him, striding over to Isabella.
She kept her head down, ignoring him completely as if he were transparent, continuing to hum her song.
“Isabella, let’s go home,” Andrew said, lifting her up from the ground.
Isabella felt drowsy, staring blankly with a pale face, looking at him bewilderedly.
Andrew cupped her face, feeling a pang of heartache. He leaned down and gave her soft lips a gentle kiss.
She passively allowed his kiss, not resisting. She seemed to have no strength to resist anymore. Between her breaths was the mature and masculine scent of a man, a faint tobacco aroma that had once intoxicated her.
His lips brushed against her earlobe, his voice magnetic and tender, “Isabella, come home with me…”
“Shut up, don’t speak!” Isabella suddenly covered his mouth with her hand, tearfully looking at him. She didn’t want to be swayed by his lies anymore.
“Andrew, you’ve been exposed. I won’t believe anything you say now.”
Andrew: “…”
He had nothing to say, only silence. He allowed her hands to tightly grip his shirt as she leaned against his chest, trembling and crying.
“Andrew, do you think I’m so foolish and easy to deceive? I never even suspected it.
The awards that didn’t belong to me were inexplicably heaped upon me. Roles and scripts that Olivia was interested in came to me so easily. I told Olivia it was good luck. Bullshit luck! It was just because I slept with the right man.”
“Okay, stop crying, alright?” Andrew cupped her face, her tears unsettling him.
However, Isabella pushed his hand away, continuing to speak, “My stepmother and her daughters lied to me for over ten years, my childhood boyfriend cheated on me, having an affair with my sister behind my back. And now, the man I’ve been trying to love has been lying to me all along. Am I born with a face that’s easy to deceive?”
After finishing, she lay in his arms, sobbing softly. She cried like a child who had been wronged. As she cried, her voice faded until she was silent.
She fell asleep in his arms.
Andrew carried her horizontally and directly placed her into Ryan’s car.
“The keys.” Andrew stood by the driver’s side, looking at Ryan.
“Why don’t you drive your own car?” Ryan asked. His car had been specifically customized, and he was as attached to it as to a wife. Ryan really didn’t want to lend it out.
“My car is parked far away,” Andrew replied coldly.
Ryan reluctantly tossed the car keys to him.
Andrew took the keys and drove away with Isabella. Ryan watched the car enter the road, then suddenly remembered, “Hey, how do I get back?”
All he got in response was the disappearing rear of the car.
…
The feeling of a hangover, a splitting headache.
Isabella was awoken by the pain.
One hand pressed against her throbbing temple, the other pounding her forehead, the beautiful space between her brows almost forming a ” character.
The bedroom curtains were half open, dim morning light scattered around the bedside. Subconsciously, Isabella reached out, childishly trying to catch a ray of sunlight, obviously catching nothing.
She lay in bed for a while, her mind still a bit hazy.
Then, the room’s door was pushed open from the outside.
Andrew walked in, his steps light.
She felt someone come in and subconsciously turned to look. He was wearing a dark shirt, the cuffs casually rolled up, his handsome face showing a hint of fatigue.
She glanced at him indifferently, then looked away, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Awake? Headache?” Andrew sat by the bed, his voice gentle, his palm caressing her forehead.
Isabella stiffly pushed his hand away, then sat up on the bed, still reluctant to give him a glance.
Andrew sighed faintly. It was more challenging to appease Isabella than to manage the Turner family’s financial empire.
“Have some honey water; it’ll ease the headache a bit.” He picked up a glass of water from the coffee table and offered it to her.
She pushed it away, barefoot, got out of bed, and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Afterward, the sound of rushing water filled the bathroom for about ten minutes. When the sound stopped, Isabella still hadn’t come out.
Her phone, placed on the bedside table, suddenly rang.
Andrew picked up her pink phone, walked to the bathroom door, and lightly tapped a few times.
“It’s Oliver calling,” Andrew said.
Then, the bathroom door opened a crack, and a slender, fair arm extended out, palm open, indicating clearly that she wanted him to pass the phone to her.
“Forgot to take the change of clothes?”
Isabella turned her face away, refusing to look at him, and said coldly, “Give me the phone.”
Andrew obediently handed the phone to her, and Isabella took a glance; indeed, it was a call from Oliver.
She was about to dial back when Andrew snatched the phone away from her.