Right before everything went ck, I think I hooked my arm around Edward’s neck. That near–death feeling scared me out of my mind.


    When I finally came to, my assistant was sitting beside me, her face full of anxiety as she watched me.


    I was lying on the club’s couch, feeling weak and drained, like all my strength had been taken away.


    I was still wrapped in that iron–gray suit jacket–every bit of warmth I felt came from it.


    “Thank God, Ms. Murphy, you’re finally awake!” my assistant eximed, relief flooding her face.


    I groggily sat up, and when the suit jacket slid off, I realized I was wearing different clothes.


    The torn royal blue dress from earlier was neatly folded and ced next to me, and now I was in an elegant ck slip dress that felt expensive.


    “Did you change my clothes?” I asked my assistant.


    She shook her head. “No, when I came in, you were already lying on the couch. Then that handsome guy had someonee get me and told me to look after you. He said if you didn’t wake up soon, I should take you to the hospital myself.”


    I pressed my hand to my forehead, my head still spinning from the alcohol. Honestly, I’d only woken up because I suddenly had to pee.


    Without a word, I got up and headed for the bathroom in the private room.


    “Ms. Murphy, are you sure you can walk? Do you need me to help you?” my assistant asked, concern in her voice.


    “No, I’m good,” I replied, stepping into the bathroom. I stared at my reflection–my hair was a mess, and my lips felt kind of numb.


    Then I caught sight of my swollen lips, and my mind freaked out. ‘How did this even happen? Why are my lips all puffy?‘ I thought.


    I bit down a couple times–they were <i>so </i>squishy, like jelly, and honestly, it felt like one more bite and they’d split and start bleeding. They were seriously


    swollen.


    Panic hit me hard. My lips were swollen, my clothes had been changed by someone else, and I immediately checked the rest of my body, mentally cursing Edward to hell and back.


    Thank God, nothing else was wrong.


    When I came out of the bathroom, two female attendants entered. One of them, clearly the one in charge, smiled and said, “Miss, we helped you change. Is there anything else you need?”


    I stared at them. “Wait, you changed my clothes? Who told you to do that?”


    “Mr. Jennings asked us to,” the manager replied with a polite smile.


    Hearing that, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. If it was them who changed my clothes, then it really wasn’t a big deal. I thanked them a couple of times and turned to my assistant.


    Turning to her, I asked, “How long was I out?”


    She nced at her phone. “About ten minutes of so. When we were looking for


    you in the hallway, it was 8:50, and now it’s just 9:07.”


    Feelingpletely drained, I slumped back onto the couch, emotionally numb. I asked my assistant to drive me home.


    Once I got home, the first thing I did was take a shower. I tossed the clothes I’d changed out of into a bag and nced at the suit jacket I’d brought back


    with me.


    Then I pulled out my phone, scrolled through my chat app, and found Edward’s contact.


    I <b>sent </b>him a quick thank–you message.


    But Edward didn’t reply.


    ! pressed my fingers hard against my temples, desperately trying to jog,my memory


    for any details.


    When ! saw Richie Wace get beaten nearly to a pulp, honestly, I was scared out of my mind.


    I’d been bottling up all that fear, and with the alcohol clouding my head and Edward’s words sending chills down my spine, no wonder I cked out.


    I kept checking my phone, but Edward still hadn’t replied.


    Instead, Ryan sent me a message–a photo.


    In the picture, he stood with his hands behind his back, dressed in a ssic ck–and–white shirt and suit. He was strikingly handsome and masculine- so much so that I couldn’t help but stare, and for a moment, I actually forgot to breathe.


    Seriously, he was a sight for sore eyes.


    I was zoning out, just staring at the photo, when Ryan sent me a voice message. “This is my work shot. Do I look good?”


    I shot back, “You look great.”


    “I’m heading back to Shaville in a couple days to grab a few things,” Ryan said–he sounded pretty happy. “We can finally meet up.”


    After tonight, I honestly wanted to see Ryan now. I replied right away, “Sure, let me know when you’re here.”


    Then, out of nowhere, Ryan called me on video. I answered, and there he was, standing by a ss window with the city lights shining behind him.


    “Vic, am I bothering you? Hope I’m not interrupting <i>your </i>night,” he asked.


    I looked into his bright eyes on the screen, turned the camera to show him my ce, and said, “No, it’s only ten o’clock. I just finished taking a shower.”


    Ryan’s gaze stayed fixed on me, and he let out a soft sigh. “Ever since met you, <i>now </i>I know what it really means to feel lonely.”


    I gave a small smile and said, “Oh? Let’s hear it.”


    “I can’t really put it into words. Before, whenever I came back to Braylin, it always felt like home and I loved it here. But now, all I want is to be wherever you are,” Ryan said, a hint of helplessness and grievance showing on that devilishly handsome face of his.


    “Don’t let your mind wander. It’s not like we won’t see each other again,” I said gently, trying tofort him.


    “I know, I won’t make a fuss about it, but honestly, my feelings have changed,” Ryan furrowed his brows, looking a bit troubled. “Is this what they call lovesickness in those romance novels?”


    I nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s not being alone that makes you lonely–it’s missing someone that does.”


    “The


    Comment