Chapter 20
Catherine suppressed the wave of heat flooding her body as she stared directly at Philip. "You actually allowed that bastard James to drug me."
Tonight's charity gala was Philip's territory. James wouldn't dare slip something into her drink on Philip's turf without his permission.
Philip chuckled softly, his warm breath brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, carrying a cruel, playful tone of someone in complete control. "Quick thinking. The drug hasn't completely confused you yet."
Catherine was furious, wanting nothing more than to curse him, but she knew now wasn't the time.
She needed to escape this situation first, and more importantly, uncover the truth about the past.
Catherine reached out suddenly, using all her strength to push him against the door, reversing their positions.
Philip's eyes narrowed as he instantly grabbed her wrists.
Catherine's breathing was rapid and heavy. The drug's effects washed over her consciousness like a tide, and her vision began to blur.
She had to ask now, while her mind was still clear. "Was it you?"
Her voice trembled slightly as the bloody scene from seven years ago flashed through her mind—in her home, the phone call Charlotte made at the scene—was Philip on the other end of that call?
Philip didn't understand Catherine's question, assuming the drug was causing her delusions. "Who am I?" he asked.
Catherine clutched Philip's jacket tightly, her breathing becoming increasingly rapid as her consciousness gradually blurred. "Philip."
Philip caressed the delicate skin at her waist, his tone intimate. "Yes, it's me."
It was him!
It really was him!
This man she had gone to such lengths to get close to, even using her body as bait, was actually an accomplice in that bloody incident years ago!
Catherine burned with rage. She reached out to grab Philip's throat, desperate to kill him while she still had the chance.
But the drug had drained her strength, making her hands no longer threatening but more like a gentle caress—more like a flirtation than an attack.
Philip effortlessly pried her hands away and secured them behind her back.
He leaned down, pinning her firmly against the wall, controlling her completely. Their bodies pressed tightly together, each acutely aware of the other's burning body heat.
He lowered his head, his voice deep and husky with a devilish seduction. "Uncomfortable? Need my help?"
His warm breath brushed her sensitive ear, sending shivers through her entire body.
"Get away from me!" Catherine turned her head away in shame, fighting the drug's effects with all her might.
Now that she had her answer, she couldn't stay here a second longer.
She kicked at him with her weakened legs and tried to headbutt him, like a desperate wild animal.
But drugged as she was, all her movements became sluggish, her force gentle. Philip effortlessly lifted her into his arms.
Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
His cool skin against her burning cheek brought incredible relief. She unconsciously let out a soothing sigh, nestling deeper into his embrace, even nuzzling her cheek against his cool neck.
This unconscious display of dependency was like a spark hitting gasoline.
Philip looked down at her flushed, dazed face, beautiful enough to take his breath away.
But it seemed to still bear traces of James's earlier kisses from the ballroom. He could see it clearly!
"Filthy," he cursed under his breath in disgust, striding toward the bathroom with her in his arms!
Catherine was unceremoniously thrown onto the hard tile floor, letting out a pained groan.
Before she could react, a basin of ice-cold water was poured over her!
The cold water brought Catherine back to her senses somewhat. Looking up, she saw the undeniable possessiveness and disgust in his eyes. Catherine suddenly burst into wild laughter that echoed through the spacious bathroom, both desolate and desperate.
"Philip, you're absurd!"
Her laughter ignited Philip's fury. His hand gripping her chin tightened violently, forcing her mouth open as water poured directly in!
Catherine coughed violently but still glared at him fiercely, her eyes full of hatred and mockery.
The cold water continued to pour over her, splashing him as well. Droplets rolled down his sharply defined jaw, disappearing into his half-open shirt collar.
"Philip," her voice trembled but carried a strangely calm tone, "I've been thinking that perhaps I do need your help after all."
Philip turned off the water, and the bathroom immediately fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the sound of dripping water.
He looked down at Catherine, her soaked allure now appearing cheap and dirty in his eyes.
He twisted his lips into a cold smile. "Unfortunately, I have no interest in a body that's both filthy and insane."
Catherine laughed again, with the recklessness of someone who had nothing left to lose. "Philip, do you know why I ultimately chose to become a doctor?"
She leaned against the cold wall, struggling to stand up. Her wet hair clung to her face and neck, water droplets sliding down the curves of her chest.
She looked directly at him, her gaze bold and vicious as it swept toward his tense abdomen and lower body.
"Because I heard," she deliberately paused, savoring the storm gathering in his eyes, "that the high and mighty CEO Philip once suffered from a condition—impotence."
Philip's pupils contracted sharply, his jaw tightening.
"I thought it was just a rumor," Catherine stepped forward, though unsteady on her feet, her tone carried a confrontational edge. "Now I understand it's true."
Her voice suddenly rose, filled with self-destructive madness. "Philip! Those two times we had sex didn't satisfy me at all! You can't satisfy me!"
"Catherine!"
Philip struck out violently, his iron-like palm brutally gripping her fragile neck, lifting her off the ground and slamming her against the cold wall!
Catherine instantly suffocated, the shadow of death looming over her as everything before her eyes darkened.
Just as Catherine was about to lose consciousness, the pressure on her neck suddenly disappeared.
She slid to the floor like a broken doll, curling up and gasping desperately for air.
Philip stood before her, his chest heaving violently, yet the corner of his mouth slowly curled into a smile that sent chills down her spine.
"Since you're tired of living," his voice was hoarse and rough, "I'll grant your wish."