Chapter 90 A Chaotic Night
Emily ignored him, instructing Nathan to keep watch while she went to fetch a damp towel.
But within half an hour, Charles was causing trouble again. He climbed out of the ice bath, soaking wet and lips blue from the cold, yet still stumbled toward Emily. "Emily, hold me."
Emily sighed in exasperation, once again asking Nathan to help throw Charles back into the ice bath.
Throughout the night, Charles made countless escape attempts and was subsequently thrown back into the bathtub countless times.
Nathan ran up and down the stairs, sweating profusely, mentally cursing Clara, who had drugged Charles over and over again.
Emily wasn't idle either. Every ten minutes, she checked on Charles in the bathroom, gave him water, and monitored his temperature.
Each time Charles saw her, he would plead pitifully, "Emily, don't make me stay in the ice anymore. I'll be good."
But whenever he left the ice bath, it wouldn't be long before he started causing trouble again.
It wasn't until dawn slowly broke that Charles's drug effects finally began to wear off, and he stopped his restless behavior.
Only then did Emily breathe a sigh of relief, having Nathan lift Charles from the ice bath, dry his body, and place him back on the guest room bed.
She leaned back in the chair beside the bed, her eyelids heavy as lead, and within moments had fallen into a deep sleep.
Nathan looked at Emily's exhausted state, then at the peacefully sleeping Charles on the bed, shook his head helplessly, quietly closed the door, and went downstairs to rest.
What a chaotic night it had been.
However, he had witnessed a side of Charles he'd never seen before.
He hoped that when Charles woke up, he wouldn't remember last night's events; otherwise, his job would likely be in serious jeopardy.
After some unknown time, Charles slowly opened his eyes. His head was splitting with pain, and last night's memories flashed chaotically through his mind like scattered pearls—Clara's face, the wine in his glass, and Emily's anxious eyes.
He sat up abruptly, looking around to find himself in an unfamiliar room. The air carried a faint scent of jasmine—the fragrance that often lingered around Emily.
He quietly got out of bed and walked to the door, peering through the crack to see the living room. Nathan was leaning against the sofa, sleeping with his head tilted to one side, dark circles clearly visible under his eyes, obviously having watched over him all night.
This was an unfamiliar house—he had never been here before.
Where was he?
Charles entered the living room and shook Nathan awake. Nathan was clearly still groggy, and upon seeing Charles, took a moment to orient himself and realize where they were.
"Mr. Windsor, you're awake. I'll go tell Ms. Johnson the good news right away." Nathan started to rise unsteadily from the sofa.
"She's here too?"
"Yes, this is Ms. Johnson's home!"
Charles's gaze unconsciously swept across the living room.
Cartoon throw pillows were scattered on the cream-colored sofa—clearly the children's belongings. A children's book lay half-open on the coffee table, with several small boxing gloves scattered nearby.
The air held not only jasmine fragrance but also a faint hint of milk, with traces of life everywhere, completely different from his own empty, cold residence.
Charles's lips unconsciously curved upward, and he felt an inexplicable sense of belonging in his heart. He loved this home, loved this lived-in warmth.
"Mr. Windsor, is everything alright?" Nathan asked puzzledly, seeing him standing motionless for so long.
Charles snapped back to reality, withdrawing his gaze and checking the wall clock—it was already six-thirty. "The children will be waking up soon. I'll make breakfast."
"What?"
Nathan's eyes widened instantly, as if he'd heard something incredible. "Mr. Windsor, you... Can you make breakfast?"
In his experience, Charles had always been waited on hand and foot. Forget making breakfast—he probably hadn't even entered a kitchen more than a few times.
Charles shot him a sideways glance, too lazy to respond.
Nathan remained concerned and followed Charles toward the kitchen. "Mr. Windsor, maybe I should do it instead. Although I'm not great at cooking, at least I won't cause any disasters."
"No need. Just watch from the side." Charles pushed open the kitchen door, skillfully rolling up his sleeves and opening the refrigerator.
Inside were neatly arranged eggs, milk, bread, fresh tomatoes, and lettuce. He took out two eggs and was about to crack them into a bowl when he felt intense scrutiny from behind.
Charles turned around to see Nathan staring at him nervously, as if ready to leap into action at any moment.
"Why do you keep staring at me?"
"I... I'm worried you might accidentally hurt yourself." Nathan laughed awkwardly, while silently praying, 'Please don't burn down the kitchen, Mr. Windsor.'
Charles naturally understood his thoughts and felt somewhat helpless.
"Go to my place and bring back two sets of clothes."
Nathan paused. "Two sets?"
"You're asking a lot of questions today."
He needed one set to change into, and wanted to keep another set here as backup. Was that so hard to understand?
Although Emily was still somewhat resistant to him now, as long as he pursued her persistently, she would eventually accept him.
"Alright, Mr. Windsor. But if I leave now, what about breakfast..."
"I can handle it myself. I don't need you hovering over me." Charles clearly wanted to send him away.
Nathan had no choice but to nod, "Fine, I'll be back as soon as possible."
He was still worried. As he reached the door, he quietly pulled out his phone and sent a message to his friend at the fire department, "Please keep an eye on Starlight Manor. If you get a fire alarm call from that address, please respond quickly."
Charles heard the door close from the kitchen and shook his head helplessly.
He knew Nathan was worried about him, but he really could cook. He took out a frying pan, placed it on the stove, poured in a little oil, and when the oil heated up, carefully cracked the eggs into the pan.
The eggs slowly set in the pan, their golden edges gradually curling up, looking quite presentable.
Just then, light footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Charles looked up to see Emma rubbing her eyes as she came downstairs, her small face still sleepy.
When Emma saw him, her eyes immediately lit up, and she quickly ran to the kitchen doorway. "Daddy, what are you making?"
Charles turned off the heat, transferred the fried eggs to a plate, and smiled at her, "I'm making breakfast for you. Want to try some?"
Emma nodded vigorously and leaned over to smell the plate. "It smells so good! Daddy, you're amazing! It looks even better than what Blair makes!"
Charles's heart warmed at her praise, and he ruffled her hair. "Go brush your teeth and wash up. It'll be ready soon."
Emma skipped off to the bathroom, and Charles watched her retreating figure, his eyes full of tenderness.
He turned back to continue his work, silently vowing to himself, 'From now on, I must spend more time with the children and Emily, do more for them, and gradually make up for everything I owe them from the past six years.'
Meanwhile, Nathan, who had just driven away from Starlight Manor, was still anxiously thinking, 'I hope Mr. Windsor shows mercy and doesn't destroy Ms. Johnson's kitchen, or I'm really in trouble.'