Chapter 33 Kiss
Elodie's POV
In the darkness, I felt him sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly watching me quietly.
Then, a soft, warm touch came to my lips, tentative, pulling away as soon as it made contact.
I thought it was a dream.
In the dream, he finally stopped pushing me away, stopped shutting me out with his coldness.
A huge wave of bitterness and joy welled up in my heart. Acting on instinct, I clumsily lifted my head, searching for that warmth.
When I woke up again, my head was splitting.
The curtains were tightly drawn, and the room was dim.
I turned my head with effort, and my heart skipped a beat.
Nelson was lying right next to me, sleeping deeply, breathing steadily.
He wore a black silk robe, the collar slightly open, revealing his defined collarbones.
The dim light softened his harsh features, making him look less aggressive and more peaceful than usual.
How could he be here?
Last night's dream suddenly became crystal clear—that warm touch, that commanding presence, so real it couldn't be fake. My cheeks started burning, my heart pounding like a drum.
Was it a dream, or did it really happen?
As if possessed, I reached out my hand, fingers trembling, wanting to touch his face to confirm this unreal flutter in my chest.
But before my fingertips could reach him, my wrist was caught precisely by a warm, large hand.
He was awake.
"Last night... did you kiss me?"
I stared intently into his eyes, not wanting to miss any change in his expression.
"And," I threw caution to the wind, "do you care about me, even a little?"
The air seemed to freeze.
His grip on my wrist tightened.
"No. You were drunk. You were dreaming."
My heart plummeted from the clouds to the depths.
He released my hand and sat up.
He glanced at the empty bottle on the nightstand, his brow furrowing.
"Elodie, don't touch alcohol again."
Without another word, he marched over to the mini bar and began emptying it completely—grabbing every unopened bottle, sweeping out the entire wine cabinet. Not a drop was left behind. He moved with ruthless efficiency, treating the expensive liquor like it was toxic waste.
I stared blankly at his back, my chest aching with bitterness.
He was always like this—expressing his awkward concern in the most forceful way, yet never willing to give me the answer I wanted.
After Nelson finished dealing with things in the room, he changed clothes and prepared to leave.
Before leaving, he tossed a thin folder on the table. "Memorize these."
I opened it to find over a dozen pages of materials, all about the Council of Elders members who would appear at tonight's banquet.
Each person's photo, name, family background, personality preferences, and even some unknown quirks were recorded in detail.
I held these materials in a daze, not moving for a long time.
"Boss told you to memorize them, so memorize them properly." Graham appeared at the door at some point. She walked in carrying a glass of warm honey water and placed it beside me. "Stop acting like a child. Tonight's banquet is crucial for him. Don't hold him back."
Her words stung, and I silently picked up the materials.
I didn't want to be his burden.
After Nelson and Rod left, I locked myself in the room, going over those boring materials again and again.
I forced myself to focus all my attention on these complicated relationships. Only this way could I temporarily stop thinking about that kiss he denied, stop wondering whether he cared about me at all.
I carved every person's information firmly into my mind, even practicing in front of the mirror the expressions and postures I should have in front of different people. I had to be flawless.
Just as I had the last piece of material memorized perfectly, my phone, which I'd tossed on the bed, suddenly vibrated.
I picked it up. It was a picture message from an unknown number.
An ominous feeling gripped me.
The moment I opened it, a photo filled the entire screen.
The background was the hotel hallway I knew all too well—the very floor we were staying on.
Nelson's tall figure blocked most of the frame, his profile cold and hard, head slightly lowered.
And Vivian, with that pale, pitiful face tilted up, was on her tiptoes, kissing his lips.
The angle was perfectly captured, like a reluctant farewell.
My blood froze instantly, my whole body turning cold.
The hand holding the phone shook so badly I could barely grip it.
He said her life or death had nothing to do with me.
He said he didn't have such poor taste.
But how do you explain this photo?
How do you explain this kiss that happened right under my nose, right outside my door?
Liar.
He was a complete and utter liar.
I laughed at myself for wavering over an illusory kiss, for believing his clumsy lies.
So all the tenderness and protection were just illusions. Only the bloody truth of him kissing another woman outside our door was real.
"Not memorizing? What are you doing?" Graham's voice came from the doorway.
She walked in and immediately spotted the phone on the floor, screen still lit.
She bent down to pick it up, and with just one glance, that wrinkled face showed undisguised mockery.
"I thought you'd grown up a bit, but you're still this stupid. Ready to fall apart over a doctored photo?"
"How can you say it's fake? This was in the hallway, right outside our door! I saw him drag Vivian out with my own eyes!"
"So what? So she could stand on her tiptoes and kiss a man a whole head taller than her, and he's slightly lowering his head with no guard up? Miss Elodie, do you think the boss is dead? If someone got that close, you think he'd have no reaction?"
I was stunned by her question.