He stood at six-foot-two, a full head taller than Wu Cheng, coldly eyeing the group.
Wu Cheng wasn’t about to let this hard-won opportunity slip away—so what if there was just one guy? With those glasses, he looked like a soft, harmless pushover.
With a wave of his hand, Wu Cheng signaled his lackeys to close in.
“Charles Chase, did you call security yet...” Mia Moore’s voice trembled, her body feeling strangely weak, as if all her strength had drained away.
Charles Chase arched a brow, calmly took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and stuffed them into her hand. Without another word, he strode forward and kicked out—instantly sending the lead lackey flying, who crashed straight into a chair and knocked it over.
Reaching out, he grabbed the edge of another chair and hurled it at Wu Cheng and his crew. Cries of pain erupted and, in under two minutes, Wu Cheng’s gang lay sprawled all over the ground, groaning and defeated.
Hah, who needs security?
With the danger gone, Mia Moore could no longer hold herself up—her body slumped sideways, all her strength gone.
Charles Chase bent down and scooped her up, shooting a fierce glare at the hotel manager cowering under the table. In a cold voice, he snapped, “Don’t bother coming in to work tomorrow.”
As they passed Wu Cheng, he raised his foot and stamped on the man’s face for good measure.
The person in his arms was flushed scarlet, utterly silent, meek in a way that was nothing like her usual fierce self. A strange feeling flickered through his heart.
Mia Moore clung tightly to his shirt, gritting her teeth and fighting off the discomfort. She felt wronged: Why was it that every time she embarrassed herself, Charles Chase had to be the one to see it?
Biting her lip, she forced herself to stay conscious.
Suite 1608’s door swung open. Charles Chase set her on the bed and stood by her side, watching.
“Should I take you home? Or do you want to stay here?”
Mia Moore curled up, burying her head in the covers, and stayed silent. By now, she knew something had been slipped to her—but how could she say it out loud? She didn’t want Charles Chase to see her like this. “Just go. Don’t… Don’t worry about me.”
Well, fancy that. She still wanted to kick him out—even after he’d had so much to drink himself, he could feel the liquor buzz creeping up.
Charles Chase bent closer, peering at the girl huddled under the quilt, and teased, “And if I don’t leave?”
She sniffled, and tears welled up instantly, spilling down her cheeks. Wiping them with her sleeve, she glared at him, “Why do you always bully me?”
Her gaze was far from fierce—her eyes were red and wet. Charles Chase sighed, “If you won’t give me back my glasses, how am I supposed to leave?”
He reached to take his glasses from her hand, but the moment his cool fingers brushed her palm, he noticed the strange, feverish heat radiating from it.
Mia Moore clutched his glasses tightly; for some reason, she just didn’t want to let go.
Dressed only in a thin dress, she still felt like she was burning up, sweat beading on her skin. “Charles Chase, I’m so hot...” she whimpered, voice thick with distress.
Charles Chase frowned and touched her pale arm—it was scorching to the touch, and her cheeks were already flushed bright red.
His hand, cool as ice, felt like heaven to Mia Moore. She wanted nothing more than for him to cool every fevered inch of her body.
“Charles Chase, you’re so cold...”
She lifted her head a little and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer. It felt so good—his entire body was deliciously cool.
His neck was cool. His face was cool. She couldn’t help but nuzzle against his cheek, sighing in relief.
Charles Chase’s gaze darkened. His voice turned rough. “Mia Moore, do you know what you’re doing?”
He had never called her name so seriously before. Mia Moore felt her heart swell—she just really wanted to be close to him, even if he was arrogant or infuriating sometimes. But he was always the one who showed up when things went wrong. Even now, with the smell of alcohol clinging to him, she didn’t mind it at all.
“Of course I know... Charles Chase, do you want to like me? I’m really great...”
Her mind had gone fuzzy, so she just blurted out whatever she was thinking.
Her soft, sweet voice lingered in Charles Chase’s ear, and for a moment his heart went utterly still—then started pounding wild.
He pulled her slightly away, gazing at her for a long time before answering, voice low and thick, “Like you, huh? And what do I get out of it?”
She blinked, a little lost, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with tears. “If you like me, I’ll like you the most in the whole world. No one will ever like you more than me.”
Her face was glowing, nervous yet utterly sincere. It almost sounded like a fair trade. Charles Chase’s heart skipped a beat.
“Mm. Deal. From now on, you’ll like me the most.”
He lowered his head, capturing her lips in a kiss. Mia Moore, dazed, let him do as he pleased.
Her red dress was so thin, it barely hid her body’s heat. She instinctively drank in his coolness—only to realize he didn’t feel so cold anymore.
Everything followed rawest instinct. His strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her to the center of the bed.
Her ankles were parted, as Charles Chase tore away the last barrier between them.
He was so tall—he could envelop her completely.
Only now did she realize: Charles Chase could be anything but gentle.
He was fierce as a wolf, branding every inch of her with his presence.
She was scared, yes, and it hurt—but she also felt completely, wondrously satisfied.
As the night deepened, the warm yellow lamp was switched off, leaving only tangled, wordless affection in the darkness.
...
Sunlight spilled into the room. Xavier Foster looked at the person in his arms, frowning as he shifted—almost awake.
He hugged her tighter—after all, Chi Chi had a rough night and had barely slept at all. He only wished the baby would hurry up and come, so she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.
She exhaled softly and finally opened her eyes, rubbing her stomach.
“Awake?”
“Mm,” she murmured groggily, soft and obedient.
Snuggled against his chest, she blinked herself awake and rubbed her eyes. “Mmm, let’s get up—Yaoyao said she’s coming over today.”
“Okay.” Xavier Foster sat up and reached over to help her, “Should I ask your brother to join us for breakfast?”
After all, the last time Chi Chi had gossiped about them, Xavier Foster had been only too happy to imagine matchmaking her brother off as soon as possible—then maybe he’d come over less often for free food.
“Sure! But it’s odd—Yaoyao hasn’t called yet. Is she sleeping in?”
Chi Chi let him help her sit up, while Xavier Foster went to fetch her clothes.
“It’s already ten. Can anyone really be that lazy?”
—
Back in Suite 1608.
Mia Moore gave a tremendous sneeze and opened her eyes.
Every inch of her ached as she frowned tightly.
Who is it, badmouthing me so early in the morning!