Chapter 2118


    Azriel took a deep drag on his cigarette, lost in thought as to what he was expecting Phoebe to say


    at that moment.


    Phoebe was equally at a loss for words. When they had juste up, they saw the "strangely


    dressed youngdies who had disappeared one by one on the first flooring out of this private


    room. It didn''t take much to figure out that they were Kane''s honored guests and that the evening''s


    entertainment had been arranged with them in mind. However, the night''s offerings weren''t limited


    to the show. There were other indulgences as well.


    Phoebe felt a tightness in her chest, an unwee feeling, but she had no ce to voice her


    concerns. "I didn''t know you were here."


    "What difference would it have made? If you knew I was here, would you not have done all this?"


    Azriel questioned.


    Phoebe''s brow furrowed deeply, "What have I done?"


    The private room was dimly lit, with a coffee table separating the two. They couldn''t clearly see


    each other''s expressions on their faces, but their voices betrayed the tension between them.d2


    "Phoebe," Azriel began coolly, "what did you promise mest night?"


    She remembered clearly, "If I ever find a boyfriend, I should bring him to you for approval."


    "You said you would be discerning; you wouldn''t just choose anyone."


    "I don''t think what I did tonight conflicts with what I saidst night."


    Azriel stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, "I''m curious, you''ve never thought about finding a


    boyfriend during your undergrad or grad studies, but suddenly, just one night passes and you''re in


    such a hurry?"


    As he spoke, he rose from the sofa, circled the table, and approached her with a noble indifference


    that seemed to suck the air from the room. Forcing her to look at him, he grasped her chin with a


    commanding touch. "Are you enjoying yourself?" His eyes swirled with a dangerous intensity as his


    fingers gently stroked her skin.


    Phoebe recoiled, trying to escape his grip, but he held her even tighter. "What are you hiding from?"


    His voice was hollow and cold, "Answer me."


    Phoebe shook her head, her gaze inadvertently falling on the undone buttons of his shirt. He was


    always so meticulous with his appearance; she had never seen him like this before. The images of


    the women who had left this room, cooing and cuddling in his arms, shed in her mind. She hadn''t


    witnessed it, but the mere thought made her stomach turn with disgust. Tears welled up in her eyes.


    "It''s not fun." She spoke truthfully, and Azriel smiled slightly. Phoebe continued. "But I did make


    some decent friends. If it were a different setting, I wouldn''t mind these gatherings."


    Azriel never thought his temper could be so vtile, that someone could repeatedly test his


    patience.


    Phoebe pulled away from his hold, "I really don''t like this ce, and I don''t know how to enjoy its


    pleasures like you do. You have fun. I''m going home."


    With that, she headed for the door, but before her hand could reach the knob, a gust of wind from


    behind mmed the door shut. Frustrated and dazed, she found herself tossed onto the sofa. As


    she came to, tears began to fall, "What are you doing?!"


    Azriel stood over her, his gaze authoritative.


    Her shoulder-length hair was loosely tousled, and she was adorned with delicate light makeup. She


    wore a fitted blue knitted dress that fell above the knee, showcasing her long and slender legs. At


    this moment, she reclined on the sofa, and he could even see the edge of her leggings beneath the


    hem of her skirt.


    She had dressed up for this asion. She hade here, flirted with men, and had made an effort


    to look good. This realization washed away any sympathy he had felt at the sight of her tears.


    "You don''t like this ce? It seems you enjoy it quite a bit," he said coldly, sitting down beside her.


    Phoebe felt a fear of Azriel that she couldn''t exin. His mood swings were too extreme, and the air


    around him was charged with anger. Up close, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.


    "What are you trying to do?" Phoebe rose from the sofa, retreating to a corner and wiping away her


    tears.


    Azriel looked impatient, not saying a word. He simply took out another cigarette, lit it, and the room


    fell into silence.


    After a while, sensing his mood had calmed, Phoebe spoke up, "I want to go home."


    Azriel didn''t move, his voice cold and unyielding, "No, you''re staying here tonight."


    "Why? I told you I don''t like it here."


    Phoebe detested this ce. Just thinking of him with those strange women made her sick.


    Azriel took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling forcefully and crushing the butt on the coffee


    table. "Fine."


    He stood up suddenly, pulling her off the sofa and throwing his jacket over her shoulders before


    striding out the door. His movementscked any tenderness.


    Phoebe stumbled along, eventually being shoved into the car. The intoxicated man took the driver''s


    seat, the engine roaring to life.


    "Are you insane?!" she eximed, but her shock elicited no response from him as the car sped


    away.


    She expected him to drive recklessly home, but instead, they stopped at a hotel entrance. He got


    out first, then yanked open the passenger door. "Get out."


    Phoebe clung to her seatbelt, refusing to budge. "I want to go home!"


    Azriel sneered, leaning in to unbuckle her seatbelt, then hoisted her over his shoulder.


    The doorman, looking anxious, drove the car away.


    "Sir..."


    "A suite," Azriel demanded.


    "Right away." said the front desk, not daring to dy.


    Phoebe was dumped onto the bed, staring at Azriel in panic. "Azriel..."


    "Go take a shower."


    She bit her lip and shook her head.


    "Or should I help you?"


    "Azriel. Please don''t be like this. You''ve had too much to drink." Her words were tinged with fear and


    distress.


    "Phoebe," Azriel''s gaze was as deep and unfathomable as an abyss, "you should be thankful I


    didn''t actually get drunk tonight."


    Once more, hemanded, "Go take a shower."


    Phoebe slid off the bed and casually picked up the phone that had fallen onto the bed, holding it in


    her hand.


    "Leave the phone."


    Phoebe didn''t move, paralyzed by the chill in Azriel''s casual, icy stare. Though she had no idea why


    he insisted on her entering the bathroom without her phone, her instincts warned her not to defy him


    now. At the moment, the bathroom seemed like a sanctuary.


    "Half an hour. If you''re not out, I''ming in."


    Phoebe set the phone down and, under his watchful eye, stepped into the bathroom.


    It wasn''t until the bathroom door closed, apanied by the distinct sound of the lock, that Azriel


    withdrew his gaze. He then shifted his attention to the phone she had tossed near the bed.


    *


    Thirty minutester, Phoebe emerged, clutching her bathrobe. Azriel stood in front of the floor-to-


    ceiling windows, the night casting her reflection clearly onto the ss.


    Azriel''s gaze remained fixed through the ss window as he watched her emerge from the


    bathroom door step by step.


    The white robe made her look almost angelic, a halo of light framing her. A flush colored her


    cheeks, her hair half-dry with tips still damp, her clean features tinged with a mix of shyness and


    apprehension. This careful demeanor only darkened Azriel''s gazes. A wave of heat surged within


    him, his Adam''s apple bobbing in a silent struggle.


    "Azriel..." Her voice, soft and tentative, broke the silence as she stood by the bed, eyes fixed on his


    silhouette.


    Azriel''s hands, previously in his pockets, clenched. He closed his eyes, forcibly quelling the rising


    tempest within him. Finally, he turned and said simply, "Get some rest," then left the room without


    casting her another nce.


    Phoebe quickly locked the door and only then allowed herself to rx and climb into bed. Then, out


    of habit, she reached for her phone, but it was gone. She searched the entire bed to no avail.


    *


    The next day, when Phoebe opened the door, she saw Azriel sitting on the living room couch in a


    bathrobe, arms crossed, eyes closed, massaging his temples in slow circles.


    At the sound of the door, he looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and weary. Despite her anger and


    sadness overst night''s events, his formidable presence had left her subdued. A night had passed,


    and now, seeing him like that, she felt an irrational pang of sympathy.


    She bit her lip and approached, asking softly, "Do you have a headache?"


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    Azriel nced at her and muttered an affirmative. Phoebe hesitated for a few seconds before sitting


    beside him. "Do you want to lie down? I could rub your temples for you?"


    Azriel paused, and Phoebe waited, her hands awkwardly resting in front of her. "Or I could go out


    and get you some headache medicine…"


    Before she could finish, Azriel suddenly shifted andid his head across her knees. "Do it."


    Caught off guard, she looked down, her gaze colliding with his indifferent one.


    "Aren''t you going to rub them? What are you waiting for?"


    Azriel closed his eyes, nestling his head on herp, searching forfort before settling down.


    Phoebe tensed her legs, but once he stilled, she ced her hands on his forehead, gently


    spreading from the center outward toward his temples. Her hands were warm and soft, a faint scent


    unique to her lingered in the air, soothing and close.


    Azriel''s hands, crossed in front of him, tightened slightly, and his body gradually tensed up.


    Unaware, Phoebe continued in the silence. After a while, she pinched his forehead firmly. Azriel,


    caught off guard, furrowed his brows.


    She chuckled softly, "Stay still. Pinching it helps with cirction. Just bear with it a little; it shouldn''t


    hurt too much, right?"


    "Are you sure this isn''t your way of getting revenge?"


    "Why would I? What grudge could I possibly have against you? It''s all red, quite a deep shade."


    As she spoke, her fingertips lightly tapped his brow, her soft voice and gentle breath brushing


    against his skin. Azriel''s lips pressed together.


    After a few minutes, Phoebe massaged his temples again and then sighed. "There, that should feel


    a lot better."


    "Mhm." Azriel murmured with his eyes still closed, but he didn''t get up immediately.


    Phoebe felt awkward, but she’s unable to look away from his face. She seldom got the chance to


    study him this closely, close enough to notice the creases of his eyelids, his long distinctshes,


    even the tiny, almost invisible dark spot by the corner of his eye.


    Every detail about him appealed to her. She didn''t know why; she''d seen more attractive men,


    Damon and his friends being prime examples. Yet, it was him she liked, without reason or


    exnation.


    Her hand unconsciously stroked his cheek, her gaze fixated.


    Azriel opened his eyes, capturing her expressionpletely. Startled, she quickly withdrew her


    hand, her eyes darting about in evident panic. "I... uh... I should head to school now."


    She tried to rise, but the man on herp remained still. In her flurry to push him away, her hand


    slipped inside his robe. Their skin touched without barrier, a warm and solid sensation meeting her


    palm.


    Phoebe''s hand trembled, her fingertips catching on his skin, feeling the man''s body tense sharply


    beneath her touch.