Chapter 53

Matilda's POV

In my childhood memories, what I saw most often was Preston pushing stacks of money across the gambling table after he'd lost. It was him blowing through the money we needed to survive, then turning around to get drunk, and when he came home wasted, swinging his fists at me and Gemma with vicious intent.

What cut even deeper in my memory was that narrow, cramped storage closet in our house. Every time I collapsed on the floor, battered and bruised, Preston would grab me by the hair and lock me in there for the entire night. In the darkness, I'd scratch mark after mark into the wall with my fingernails, counting the passage of time, listening to him outside screaming at Gemma about selling me off to work the streets, then hearing Gemma's tearful pleas followed by the sound of his fist connecting again.

These memories pierced through my skull like swords, bringing a splitting headache. The darkness pressed in from all sides, and my consciousness started to blur. "Don't... don't hit me... Dad, I'm sorry... let me out." I curled into myself, hands clutching my head, nails digging into my scalp as tears poured down my face.

"Matilda? Matilda!" Wellington's panicked voice seemed to come from far away. "What's wrong? Look at me! It's okay, the elevator stopped!"

His voice couldn't penetrate the walls I'd built up from fear. I kept trembling, mumbling pleas for mercy over and over. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered mine. I flinched slightly, feeling the warmth from his palms seeping into my frozen fingertips.

"Let go, Matilda." His voice dropped lower. "No one's going to hurt you. It's over. I'm here. No one will hurt you."

His warm body heat slowly melted a crack in my frozen, dark memories. My rigid fingers gradually softened and loosened. He took the opportunity to gently pull my hands away from my head, then slipped his arms under my knees and behind my back, lifting me up with a bit of effort and settling me sideways on his bent leg, my entire back pressed against his solid, warm chest.

The position was far too intimate, but in my extreme terror, I couldn't muster any resistance. Instead, I instinctively curled further into his embrace, making myself even smaller.

"It's okay. No one can hurt you." Wellington's deep voice came from above my head, repeating it over and over without impatience. His arms held me securely, while his other hand awkwardly but gently patted my back. "It's just an elevator malfunction. We'll be out soon. I'm here. Don't be scared."

His voice slowly pulled me back from the edge of collapse, and my violent trembling gradually subsided.

I don't know how much time passed before muffled voices and the sound of metal tools clanging came from outside. "People inside! We're breaking through! Step back! Cover your nose and mouth!"

Wellington raised his hand, his warm, broad palm gently covering my ears. After a loud bang, the elevator doors were pried open from the outside, and light finally flooded in. I flinched reflexively and buried my face deeper into Wellington's shoulder.

Hank's urgent voice rang out. "Mr. Learmond, are you—"

The next second, his words cut off abruptly. The entire world went quiet.

Confused, I lifted my head and saw faces outside the elevator, all frozen in shock. A few seconds later, Hank turned around and cleared his throat. "The malfunction has been resolved. Mr. Learmond and Ms. Hamilton are unharmed. Thank you all for your assistance. Please return to your posts. The hotel security department will coordinate with the law firm on follow-up matters."

The crowd gathered outside the elevator exchanged glances, then immediately dispersed. I blinked my tear-filled eyes in confusion, my vision gradually clearing. Then, belatedly, I became aware of the heat source beside me.

I was still sitting in Wellington's lap!

My brain short-circuited with a loud buzz, and I tried to scramble off his legs. "I'm so sorry! Mr. Learmond!" I babbled incoherently, fumbling to prop myself up. "I didn't mean to... I..."

"Don't move." Wellington's deep voice came from above my head. He steadied me again and looked at Hank. "Help Ms. Hamilton out first."

"Yes, sir." Hank immediately stepped forward and extended his hand to me. "Ms. Hamilton, please grab my hand and watch your step. The elevator car is stuck a bit high. I'll steady you. Come down slowly and make sure your footing is secure."

Finally, I could get out of his arms! I looked at Hank gratefully and grabbed his outstretched wrist with trembling hands.

"That's it, nice and slow. Put your foot down first... good, it's stable. Now jump."

I extended one foot out of the elevator car and stepped onto the makeshift stable platform the rescue team had set up below, then moved my other foot. The moment I made contact with the ground, a sharp, piercing pain exploded from my right ankle. I must have twisted it at some point without realizing. Caught off guard, I couldn't stand at all. My body tilted, and I was about to fall ungracefully to the ground.

"Ms. Hamilton!" Hank cried out, trying to catch me. But then he seemed to think of something, hesitated as if worried about something, and his outstretched hand was a beat too slow.

Just as I was about to hit the ground, Wellington had already leapt down smoothly from the elevator car. In one swift motion, while Hank was still hesitating, he'd already wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace once again, then carefully supported my arm and helped me slowly sit down on the floor.

"What happened to your foot?" He crouched down, his gaze sweeping to my curled-up right foot. Beneath the hem of my champagne-colored dress, my bare ankle was visibly swollen and red.

"It's nothing, I think I just twisted it a little." Sweat beaded on my forehead from the pain, but I still instinctively tried to downplay it. "It's fine. I'll be okay after resting a bit."

Wellington's brow furrowed even deeper. Ignoring my words, he gave Hank a direct order. "Call the doctor. Have John come straight to the villa."

"That's not necessary! Mr. Learmond!" I panicked and tried to stop him, forgetting about the pain in my foot as I struggled to stand up on my own. "Really, you don't need to bother Dr. Kramer! I'll just ice it when I get back. I can't cause you any more trouble."

I tried to leverage myself up, but the next second, Wellington firmly held me down. He looked at me and suddenly let out what seemed like a helpless sigh. Then he reached out, his slender fingers going straight to the straps of my heels, unbuckling them and carefully removing the shoes.

I flinched and tried to pull my foot back. "Mr. Learmond."

His movements paused slightly. He gave me another inexplicable look, then removed my other shoe. The next second, he slipped one hand under my legs and lifted me up entirely.