Chapter 50
Chapter 50
It almost looked like she was trying to avoid the situation.
But then she shook her head quickly, determination flickering in her eyes. “I’ll go with you!”
Justin couldn’t help but smile at the way she kept nodding and shaking her head, looking utterly adorable. He took her hand, gently pulled back the comforter at the edge of the bed, and said, “If you’re tired, try to get some real rest. Let me handle this-trust me, it’s nothing I can’t fix.”
Edith still felt uneasy, but there was something almost hypnotic about
Justin’s voice.
Before she knew it, she’d obediently perched herself on the edge of the bed, quiet as a mouse.
Seeing her stay put, Justin leaned over, carefully lifted her slender legs,
and tucked them onto the mattress.
The position suddenly felt intimate, and the dim glow of the bedside lamp made the moment feel even more charged. Edith’s heart began to race for reasons she couldn’t quite name.
After Justin left the room, Edith tried to convince herself her pounding heart was just nerves-she almost never spent the night in a man’s bedroom, after all.
But the moment she closed her eyes, Justin’s strong, angular profile appeared in her mind, along with the subtle movement of his Adam’s
apple.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
Outside, the storm raged on.
The thunder had faded, but the rain was relentless, drumming against the roof with a persistence that promised to last all night.
Justin stepped outside holding a black umbrella. The downpour was so
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Chapter 50
fierce that his shoulders were already damp.
Inside the manor, the butler watched with concern, hurrying after Justin. with another umbrella. “Sir, the rain’s too heavy-why not invite the guest inside? I’ll have the staff prepare some tea.”
Justin paused for a moment.
Invite Beckett Vance into the Hawksley estate?
Not a chance-he wasn’t about to let the Vance heir sully the family’s
home.
Justin waved off the butler. “No need. I’ll go out and speak with him.”
Beckett had already been waiting at the gates for ten minutes, growing visibly impatient.
What kind of person made him wait this long?
If it weren’t for Edith, Beckett wouldn’t have bothered with this at all.
Through the sheet of rain, he could make out a tall figure approaching, but the downpour blurred the details. Even at a distance, Beckett could tell-this was no aging patriarch Edith was supposed to marry.
Whoever it was, he was young and well-built-taller and fitter than Beckett
himself.
A bodyguard, maybe?
Beckett let out a short laugh. Was the old man so afraid of him that he’d sent out security instead, just in case things turned ugly?
Well, at least the man wasn’t stupid-he knew how to protect himself.
As the “bodyguard” drew closer, Beckett eyed him, something about the man naggingly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place him.
In a surprisingly good mood, Beckett raised an eyebrow and looked the man up and down. “You’re in good shape. So, how much does the old man pay you? I’ll double it-come work for the Vance family instead.”
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The men he’d recently hired for Salome were all disappointments,
anyway.
But this “bodyguard” watched him with a certain arrogance-a haughty expression that made Beckett bristle.
Who did he think he was? Just a bodyguard, after all. What was there to be proud of?
Or maybe he didn’t know who Beckett was?
Beckett gave a little smirk and introduced himself. “I’m the eldest son of the Vance family. I run the family business-name’s Bennett.”
Justin raised an eyebrow, a trace of disdain curling at the corner of his mouth. “Oh? Bennett…?”
He deliberately dragged out the last syllable, making Beckett uneasy.
But Beckett repeated to himself-heir to the Vance family. This was just a bodyguard. No matter how cocky he acted, what trouble could he possibly cause?
Growing impatient, Beckett snapped, “Go get the old man. What, is he too frail to come out in the rain? Not that I’m eager to come inside-I’d hate to be overwhelmed by the smell of mothballs.”
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.