Chapter 477: Taking Her Home

Chapter 477: Taking Her Home

"Stop being so modest." Ollie waved his hand decisively. "Charles, why don't you give Ms. Montgomery a ride home?"

Charles raised his gaze. The moment his eyes met Anouk's, he flinched as if burned, quickly looking away. After a long silence, he crushed the cigarette in his palm and said hoarsely, "Like I said before, it's no trouble at all. Ms. Montgomery, after you."

The black Maybach tore through the night, the interior filled with a faint scent of cedarwood—Charles's signature fragrance. Anouk sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at the man beside her.

She spoke softly. "Mr. Windsor. Are you... still thinking about Ms. Johnson?"

Charles's fingers paused imperceptibly before resuming their grip on the wheel. He didn't answer, only stared ahead at the endless stream of taillights, his Adam's apple bobbing once.

Anouk didn't press further, turning instead to gaze out the window. Charles's silhouette reflected in the glass. As she watched that shadow, she suddenly spoke again. "Please don't worry, Mr. Windsor. I will cure you. Even if you don't trust me, you can trust my mentor, Donovan."

Charles's pupils contracted sharply.

He looked at her. The night wind slipped through a crack in the window, lifting the strands of hair from her forehead, revealing her smooth brow.

"Why?"

Anouk lowered her gaze, her long lashes casting shadows beneath her eyes. After a prolonged silence, when she finally looked up again, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Because I've seen the way you look at Ms. Johnson."

She paused, her voice as soft as a sigh. "So deep. So intense... I envy that kind of love. And I... I want someone to look at me that way too."

She suddenly laughed—a sound tinged with self-mockery and defiance. "Mr. Windsor, call it selfish if you want. I want to cure you. I want to see you live. I want... I want to prove that there are still people in this world who deserve to be loved like that."

Charles studied her, the ice in his eyes seeming to crack ever so slightly.

"Ms. Montgomery... thank you."

The words came out barely above a whisper, yet they seemed to drain every ounce of his strength.

Anouk's heartbeat skipped.

"Mr. Windsor, you're going to be okay. I promise."

Charles said nothing, simply restarting the car. In the darkness, the hard lines of his profile seemed to soften, his grip on the steering wheel no longer quite so tight.

The car pulled up in front of a standalone villa. Anouk unbuckled her seatbelt but didn't immediately get out. She turned to look at Charles. Moonlight fell across his features, silvering those sharp angles into something almost tender.

"Mr. Windsor, tonight... thank you for driving me home."

Charles turned to her, his gaze lingering on her face for a long moment—long enough that Anouk's pulse began to race. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gentle. "I should be the one thanking you."

He paused, as if about to say something more, but in the end only nodded slightly. "Good night, Ms. Montgomery."

Anouk stepped out of the car and stood on the curb, watching the black Maybach disappear into the night. She touched her burning cheeks, her lips curving into an involuntary smile.

Inside the car, Charles watched her diminishing figure in the rearview mirror. The warmth in his eyes receded like a tide, replaced by cold, visceral disgust.

He slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car tore down the empty street, night wind rushing through the window, carrying away the lingering traces of perfume—her perfume, sickeningly sweet and cloying.

At a deserted intersection, Charles jerked the car to a stop. He shoved open the door and stumbled to the roadside, bracing himself against a tree as violent dry heaves wracked his body.

There was nothing in his stomach—only bitter bile. He gasped for air, cold sweat beading on his forehead, his fingers clawing into the bark as if trying to tear something out of himself.

Revolting.

The disgust went bone-deep.

He raised his hand, roughly wiping his mouth as though some unclean residue still lingered there.

Back in the car, Charles dialed a number. The moment the call connected, the ice in his eyes melted away entirely, replaced by something almost fragile.

"I dropped her off."

Emily's soft laughter came through the line, tinged with both sympathy and teasing. "Mr. Windsor's acting skills are impressive. I'm almost jealous."

Charles closed his eyes, slowly reclining his seat. "Emily. Let me hear your voice. Just for a while."

He lay there in the darkness, listening to the faint sound of her breathing on the other end—like a drowning man finally grasping a lifeline. All those false smiles, those calculated gestures, those nauseating touches—they all dissolved into nothing.

Only her voice remained, his sole anchor.

"Go home," Emily said gently. "I'll come see you tomorrow."

Her voice gradually smoothed away the churning nausea and rage in his gut. He kept his eyes closed, his Adam's apple working as he murmured hoarsely, "Alright. I'm heading back now."

After hanging up, he sat in the darkness for a moment longer.

Streetlights flickered past the window, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face.

He gunned the engine. The tires shrieked against the pavement.

The lights of Windsor Manor blazed warmly against the night sky.

Charles pulled into the courtyard but didn't immediately exit the car. He stared up at the second-floor window glowing with soft yellow light.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

But the instant he stepped into the foyer, a wave of violent vertigo slammed into him. The crystal chandelier overhead began to spin and warp, dissolving into a blurred halo of light. He tried to take another step, but his legs felt like lead, each movement impossibly heavy.

"Mr. Windsor?"

Nathan's voice seemed to come from very far away. Charles tried to respond, but his throat felt blocked, producing only a muffled groan. He felt hands steadying him—touches that made him instinctively want to pull away, though he lacked even the strength to lift his arms.

"Quick! Call the doctor! Notify Mr. Ollie Windsor!"