Chapter 152
Sterling tried to lead Willow out of the cellar, but she stubbornly refused to cooperate. Their exit was taking longer than expected.
Luke sat patiently at first, but the wine-soaked air made him uncomfortable. After waiting with no sign of them leaving, he began to whimper and nudged Willow with his nose, trying to urge her to move.
Willow felt something warm and furry against her. Looking down, Luke licked her face.
"You remind me of a dog I know," she said, stroking his back. "His name is Luke. He saved my life once." Her expression fell. "I wish Luke could find me now."
Believing herself dead, Willow sniffled, close to tears.
"This is Luke," Sterling said quietly.
Willow blinked in confusion. "That's impossible..."
Wasn't she already dead?
As if confirming Sterling's words, Luke gave two soft barks.
Clarity gradually returned to Willow's eyes as she stared at the dog. "Luke?"
Luke licked her face again.
"It really is Luke!" Willow's face brightened with realization. "I'm not dead! Thank goodness..."
Relief washed over her features.
"More lucid now?" Sterling asked. "Do you know who I am?"
Willow belatedly recognized the familiar voice. She studied him for a moment before her eyes widened. "Uncle Sterling?"
Sterling disliked the title but was relieved she recognized him. "Come. I'll take you back." He extended his hand.
This time, Willow cooperated and stood up. After crouching for so long and drinking so much wine, she staggered after just a couple of steps, nearly falling.
Sterling moved to catch her, intending to carry her out.
Willow firmly dodged his attempt.
"There are stairs ahead," he explained as his outstretched hands met empty air. "You can't make it up by yourself. I'll just carry you outside."
Willow shook her head with surprising determination despite her intoxication. "No, we need to... maintain distance!"
Sterling studied her face. "Why? Because I'm Charles's uncle? Willow, you're already divorced."
"It's still not right," she insisted earnestly. "People will gossip. You'll be criticized."
She wobbled past him, determined to make it on her own.
Sterling watched her, his expression unreadable. So she continued to reject him because she feared their relationship would damage his reputation due to her past marriage with Charles.
He had considered this before. Previously, he had always followed his father's principle of prioritizing the Lancaster family's interests and reputation above all. In the past, before knowing Willow, this situation would have troubled him.
But after truly getting to know her, Sterling no longer cared about such considerations.
Willow cautiously approached the stairs. Though she didn't remember tumbling down them earlier, her body instinctively remembered the trauma, making her wary. With Luke pressing against her side, her progress was even more difficult.
Suddenly, an arm encircled her waist from behind. Caught off guard as Sterling lifted her, Willow forgot to resist, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. The clean, reassuring scent of his cologne enveloped her.
"You're moving too slowly," Sterling said firmly in her ear. "I'm carrying you up."
With steady steps, he ascended the stairs with Willow in his arms, Luke following close behind.
Once outside the cellar, Sterling continued walking without pause. Within those few steps, Willow had fallen asleep against his chest, relieving him of his promise to put her down.
Blake waited by the entrance with Charles nearby.
Charles couldn't believe a dog had actually found Willow before he did. She looked delicate in Sterling's arms, her slender waist easily encompassed by one arm, her long hair cascading over his chest, hiding most of her face except for a faint flush on her cheeks.
As Sterling carried her past, Charles caught the rich aroma of wine and couldn't tear his gaze from Willow.
"Blake, please escort Charles out," Sterling instructed without a glance. "From now on, he's not allowed to set foot in the resort without my permission."
Charles snapped back to awareness. "On what grounds? I had nothing to do with this!"
Had Willow said something about him while inside? Suspicion flashed through his eyes as he looked at her.
Sterling replied coldly, "Do I need a reason to not want irritating things in my own property?"
His words cut off any argument Charles had prepared.
"Mr. Charles Lancaster," Blake approached with several staff members.
Charles clenched his jaw in humiliation. "Don't touch me! I can see myself out!" He strode away without looking back.
Blake had his staff follow to ensure he truly left. Other employees were sent to escort Rachel out as well. Already asleep, Rachel was confused when awakened and complained loudly as she was led from the premises.
Meanwhile, Sterling took Willow to his private villa. When developing the resort, both he and Henry had reserved personal residences for future visits.
The villa's interior matched Sterling's city apartment with its minimalist black, white, and gray palette. Willow's presence brought a touch of warmth to the austere space.
Sterling carried her to the bedroom. She showed no signs of waking, one hand clutching his shirt firmly. It took considerable effort to make her let go.
When her hand found nothing to hold, Willow frowned slightly in her sleep, curling up under the covers and murmuring softly, "Sterling..."
The name she rarely spoke while awake came naturally in her dreams.
Sterling paused as he was leaving. He sat down on the edge of the bed and responded quietly, "I'm here."
Willow's lips moved, as if gathering all her strength. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. "Save me..."
Sterling's heart lurched as he stared at her face. She had grown quiet, though her furrowed brow indicated her sleep was still troubled.
After a long silence, he reached out and gently touched her cheek. In her sleep, Willow sensed his familiar presence and instinctively leaned closer, nuzzling against his palm.
The soft warmth of her skin felt like a feather, lightly stirring something deep within Sterling's heart.