Chapter 2
996 Words
Soft morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, and Evelyn Harper felt a wave of soreness wash over her body. She let out a quiet groan, trying to turn over, but suddenly felt a warm hand resting on her waist. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave—last night, she had fallen into the arms of a stranger, and everything that followed filled her with overwhelming shame and unease.
Her eyes snapped open, heart pounding wildly. Turning her head, she saw the tall man lying peacefully beside her, his breathing steady. Evelyn's heart nearly leapt out of her chest as she stared at him, recalling every detail of the previous night. Every movement, every touch reminded her—the man beside her was definitely not Henry Westwood, the man she was supposed to marry.
Her mind spun in confusion, and every aching muscle in her body protested the man's strength and... dominance. But he wasn't disabled as the rumors said, so who on earth was he? Panic set in as she realized not only had she entered the wrong room, but she had also done the unthinkable with a complete stranger. Regret and fear welled up inside her. How could this have happened? She even vaguely sensed that something about her body's reactions last night seemed... off.
Holding her breath, Evelyn carefully lifted the man's hand from her waist, her heart racing like a drum. She quietly slipped out of bed, picking up her scattered clothes from the floor. Just as she pulled on a man's shirt—his shirt—and was about to tiptoe toward the door, the man behind her let out a low chuckle.
"Leaving so soon?" That deep, husky voice froze Evelyn in her tracks, a cold sweat breaking out instantly. She turned slowly to see the man lounging lazily against the headboard, his sharp eyes watching her with amused interest. The scenes from last night flooded back, and Evelyn's face flushed crimson.
"Please... just let me go," she stammered, trying to mask her panic.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over her with a teasing glint. "You crawl into my bed, and now you want to bail? Come on, sweetheart, adults take responsibility for their actions, you know?" His tone carried a strong possessiveness, leaving Evelyn no room for explanation.
Hearing this, Evelyn's shame deepened. She tried to defend herself, but the man gave her no chance. He leaned forward abruptly, capturing her lips in a dominant kiss. Her eyes widened in shock, hands pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to resist. But exhaustion from the previous night left her weak, and she was forced to endure this unexpected intimacy.
Breaking free from his grasp, Evelyn's heart was still pounding wildly. Seizing the moment when he didn't pursue her further, she hurried out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. Standing in the hallway, she took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She still couldn't believe what had happened last night, nor could she accept that she had not only entered the wrong room but had also been with that stranger.
As she pondered how to get out of this mess, a faint sound reached her ears. Looking up, she saw a wheelchair slowly approaching from the other end of the corridor. The man seated in it was upright and poised, his eyes gentle like stars. Evelyn's heart skipped a beat—she recognized him. This was Henry Westwood, the man she was supposed to marry.
Henry stopped in front of her, offering a slight smile. His voice was deep, tinged with a hint of resignation. "You're Evelyn Harper, right?"
Evelyn's heart missed a beat. She nodded nervously, her eyes welling up as she choked out a soft "Yes." Henry's gaze swept over the marks on her neck and the oversized men's shirt she was wearing. There was no surprise in his expression; it was as if he had expected this all along.
"Last night..." Henry sighed softly. "You came out of my uncle's room, didn't you?"
A buzzing filled Evelyn's mind. She stared at him, frozen. "You mean... your uncle?"
Henry gave a wry smile, nodding. "Yes, that's Logan Westwood, the second master of the Westwood family. Looks like you went into the wrong room last night." A surge of shock and fear flooded Evelyn's heart. Logan Westwood's name was renowned in the business world—cold, ruthless, and immensely powerful.
She had no way to defend herself. The guilt and terror swirling inside her were beyond words.
Her mind was in chaos, breaths coming in rapid gasps. She had no idea how to face the situation before her. Not only had she entered the wrong room last night, but she had also been intimate with Logan Westwood. And now, Henry, the man she was supposed to marry, was looking at her kindly, without a hint of blame. The overwhelming guilt and fear nearly made her knees buckle.
"I... I didn't mean to," Evelyn whispered, her voice barely audible.
Henry sighed gently, extending the blanket that was draped over his lap. "Here, put this on. You don't want anyone seeing you like this. We can't let things get any worse."
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded from downstairs, as if someone was coming up. A chill ran down Evelyn's spine, her face turning pale. She looked down at herself—the oversized men's shirt, the marks on her neck left from the previous night. If anyone saw her like this, the consequences would be unimaginable.
"Quick, hide behind me," Henry urged, his tone becoming urgent yet still gentle. Without hesitation, Evelyn did as told, quickly wrapping the blanket around herself and slipping behind Henry's wheelchair. She held her breath, anxiety gnawing at her, praying that whoever was coming wouldn't notice her presence.
Her hands clutched the blanket tightly, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest.
- Writer
