Chapter 61 Sorry I’m Late
“That doesn’t concern me, does it?” she asked.
“Right, it doesn’t. If you can help me find out, I’ll agree to whatever conditions you set!”
“They’re married now. Are you going to take her back?” she asked coldly.
“I do play around, but I know my limits. I’ve never crossed the line,” Walter said seriously.
“Sorry, Walter, but I can’t help you with this.” She refused outright.
“Rest assured, I won’t breathe a word of this,” she added before walking away.
⸻
As Emma reached the elevator lobby, she saw Ben leaning against the elevator doors.
He stared straight at her, his eyes burning with anger.
They stood frozen in a silent standoff as the elevator doors opened and closed.
“What? You went for an older man, but still won’t be with me?” he sneered.
“Shit!” Emma turned to leave, but he yanked her into the elevator and slammed the top-floor button.
The elevator lurched slightly as he pinned her against the cold metal wall.
“Let me go!” Her hands were forced above her head, her chest crushed against his.
He glanced down, catching sight of the fresh red mark on her neck.
His eyes darkened as heat surged through him.
“Please reconsider me…” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her slender waist.
“Reconsider? Keep that useless lower half to yourself!” she scoffed, struggling violently.
“Why think so little of me?” He leaned in, trying to say more.
The elevator doors opened, and a group of people stepped inside.
Emma lowered her head in humiliation and tried to slip away.
Ben released her wrists and stepped in front of her, blocking their view with his body.
The elevator continued upward as people exited floor by floor.
She tried to wrench free, but Ben tightened his grip on her hand.
The elevator kept rising.
“You must be out of your mind!” Emma hissed.
“Chloe and I are just a marriage of convenience. I don’t care who you’re with in private, Emma,” Ben said with a twisted smile.
“Don’t assume every man is like you,” she sneered.
“We’re cut from the same cloth. But you pretend you’re above it all. Why?” he asked, his grip tightening painfully.
She frowned and struggled with all her strength.
“Scoundrel! We’re not the same.”
⸻
“Ding.”
The elevator doors slid open.
“If you dare touch me, I’ll kill you the moment I get the chance!” she fought desperately, trying to break free.
“Dream on! You’re mine tonight!” He dragged her back, yanked her into his arms, and locked her against him.
His face hovered inches from hers.
“Help! Help—mmph!” She turned her head away in disgust, her cries smothered.
He grabbed her jaw roughly and forced his mouth against hers.
The elevator doors began to close.
She bit down hard on his lip.
“Thud!”
Emma slammed into the wall as Ben shoved her away violently.
Furious, he raised his hand to strike her.
Just as the doors were about to seal shut, a large hand jammed between them.
A brutal kick sent Ben crashing to the floor.
Emma lifted her head in shock.
Standing there, blocking the elevator doors, was Liam.
She broke free and threw herself into his arms, tears spilling over.
“You’re here!”
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Liam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.
“No, not—” She trembled violently, clutching him harder.
⸻
“Just enough to keep him breathing,” Liam said coldly, glancing at the bodyguard beside him.
Bending down, he lifted Emma into his arms.
Back in the car, he removed his coat and wrapped it around her.
Arthur raised the privacy screen and started the engine.
“Why did you come?” Her voice shook.
“I just finished up and wanted to pick you up. I called, but you didn’t answer. So I had John check the surveillance.”
“I’m sorry. I caused you trouble.” She buried herself deeper into his chest.
“Don’t say that.” His arms tightened around her.
“I told him we’re married, but he just wouldn’t believe me,” she whispered.
“I’ll handle it,” he said quietly. His eyes were dark—almost frightening.
Startled, Emma looked up at him.
“Do you want to kill him?”
His gaze softened instantly.
"No way. We follow the law," he said with a faint smile, reaching out to brush her hair aside.
"But I just heard—"
"You misheard." He silenced her with a warm kiss, pulling her onto his lap.
Enveloped by his scorching heat, her gaze was misty.
His kisses were fierce, urgent, stealing her breath and reason alike.
"Click!" His belt buckle was undone.
The cold touch of the metal snapped her back to her senses.
"Control yourself! Liam!" She muttered.
Ignoring her, he pulled her closer as his lips traced her earlobe with deliberate care.
"Let me go inside. Just a moment..." he pleaded, his voice hoarse.
Emma flushed as her body was already a traitor to her senses.
No! We can't! Absolutely not here!
She pushed him away with all her strength.
"Calm down, please..." She protested, stumbling back as she gripped the door handle.
Chuckling, he pulled up his pants.
"Lillian invited us to have Thanksgiving together." Emma changed the subject.
"Fine," he replied, his tone turning cold.
"Okay," she murmured.
Back at the villa:
"I might have caused trouble today," she said, recalling her visit to the studio earlier.
"Did you see my dad?" Liam asked with a smile.
"Huh? You already know?" She was surprised.
"Hungry? Want some pasta?"
"Sure." She nodded, then asked, "Will he be upset?"
"No. Actually, they like you."
"But today I..." She held back.
"Take it easy. They're easygoing." He soothed her as he lit the stove to fry eggs. "Next week's a holiday, but I might still be busy for a few days."
"Want some help?" Emma asked, resting her hands on the table.
"If you'd like," he replied with a faint smile.
The eggs and pasta were ready in no time.
They sat facing each other.
Resting her chin in one hand, she picked up her fork and tasted the pasta.
"You're actually pretty good at this." She remarked.
"That's thanks to you."
"Why?" she asked.