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Chapter 67: A Shield
Dizzy? I really was a little dizzy, to be honest. The red wine had quite a strong aftereffect, and I hadn’t exactly been light on the drinking during dinner.
But if I were to tell Fletcher that, he’d likely think I was just putting on a show. So, I responded, “Thanks to you and Ms. Connery, I’m feeling much better now.”
At my words, Fletcher barely lifted his eyelids, a flicker of coldness flashing in his sharp, charming eyes. When he wasn’t speaking, his face had an air of natural authority, as if he commanded respect without lifting a finger.
Not wanting to push my luck, I tentatively asked, “Is there anything else you need, Mr.
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Lynton?”
If not, I’d get on with my business.
I had asked casually, but the next moment, Fletcher’s voice came again, commanding, “Why are you standing there like a statue? Come help me.”
I thought I must have misheard. When my gaze briefly caught Fletcher’s sharply defined profile, I saw him still in the same relaxed position, though a faint trace of fatigue had settled in between his brows.
Help him? I couldn’t have heard that right.
After all, in this dinner, Duke had been the one working the hardest. Fletcher had barely drunk two glasses, and now he needed help?
“What, you don’t want to?” Fletcher’s cold,
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indifferent gaze landed on me again.
I hesitated for a moment, half–joking, “Mr. Lynton, I remember you have a decent
I
tolerance for alcohol.”
“Well, that’s all thanks to your kind gesture, isn’t it?”
The teasing tone, combined with Fletcher’s sharp gaze, made me feel inexplicably guilty, as though he had seen right through me.
On a strange impulse, I did as he asked and moved to help him.
In an instant, most of Fletcher’s body leaned heavily against mine. I stumbled, barely managing to keep my balance.
It seemed Fletcher was actually drunk–not pretending.
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The familiar scent of soap mingled with the rich fragrance of the wine, enveloping my senses. I steadied myself, putting all my focus into supporting him as we moved forward.
Fifteen minutes later, Fletcher and I arrived at a secluded cottage.
The room was fully equipped, with expansive views–a clear sign of the rare suite.
“Mr. Lynton, the bed is on the right.”
Fletcher barely managed to open his eyes. His dazed gaze swept around the room before he pointed toward the bathtub and said, “Sweetie, I want to take a bath.”
A sharp throb ran through my brow, and I froze in place.
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This scenario felt all too familiar.
In reality, Fletcher had a decent tolerance for alcohol, but he didn’t enjoy drinking. Even more, he despised the lingering scent of alcohol on his body afterward. So, every time he returned to our apartment after a night of drinking, the first thing he’d do was whine at me to run him a bath.
Just like now.
But Fletcher, were you truly this out of it? I wasn’t the one who’d run you a bath
anymore.
Swallowing the bitterness in my chest, I spoke evenly, “Wait here, I’ll go get Duke.”
As I pulled my arm away from Fletcher’s tight grip, in an instant, he yanked me back,
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pulling me into his arms.
“Sweetie, are you disgusted with me?” Fletcher held me tightly, his voice low,
“Then why did you let other women pour me drinks?”
It was becoming more absurd by the second.
Fletcher was a regular at the gym, with strong, well–defined arms, and his strength. was considerable. I struggled a few times, managing to create a sliver of space between us.
“Fletcher,” I spoke softly, gazing into his unfocused eyes, my tone serious, “I’m really getting angry now.”
Fletcher froze, his face showing an
expression of guilt. He gazed at me for a moment before muttering, “I’ll listen to you,
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Sweetie.”
He was no longer the imposing, untouchable figure he usually was. Instead, in that
moment, Fletcher seemed more like a docile husband.
It was a side of him I had never seen before.
A thought crept into my mind–so, when he was drunk in front of Davina, was this the obedient side he showed her?
The thought made a pang of sourness rise in my chest.
It was really inappropriate for me to stay.
With that in mind, I immediately turned to leave. However, just as I reached the door, a loud crash sounded beside me. I looked up to find Fletcher had collapsed right at the
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bathroom door.
“Sweetie, he furrowed his brow, his lips curling downward, “it hurts.”
I had never seen Fletcher so disheveled before.
My heart softened, and I quickly rushed to him. “Stop it, just go to bed.”
To my surprise, Fletcher obediently staggered toward the bedroom.
But his hand, still gripping mine, didn’t let go.
The alcohol had taken its toll on me too, and I had neither the strength nor the desire to keep struggling with him. After all, the more we argued, the more time was wasted.
I had planned to take a walk after he fell
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asleep.
But as soon as he leaned back onto the bed, I found myself losing control of my consciousness. My eyelids drooped, and before I knew it, I too slipped into slumber.
I wasn’t sure how long I had slept. When I woke up, I found myself lying in a soft, large bed, covered by the duvet Fletcher had thrown over me last night.
But Fletcher was already gone.
I rubbed my eyes and noticed a faint light of dawn on the horizon, the first hint of morning breaking in the east.
It was only then that I realized, without even realizing it, an entire night had passed.
Wait… did I just spend the whole night in
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“No need to worry” Fletcher’s calm voice came through the door, “Don’t forget, we’re here to discuss business. Let’s just keep her waiting for now.”
The confidence in Fletcher’s tone sent a wave of unease through me.
But then I heard Duke change the subject. “Well, I have to admit, Ms. Connery is quite difficult to handle. Luckily, I warned the staff ahead of time. Otherwise, if she checks the surveillance footage, she’ll find out Mrs. Lynton stayed at your room last night.”
Of course, the hotel belonged to the Connery family. If she wanted to dig into things, it would be as easy as breathing.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for letting my guard down.
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“What’s the rush?” Fletcher’s casual tone floated through the door again. “Even if she finds out, so what? It might even save us some trouble.”
“Mr. Lynton, are you suggesting… that we use Mrs. Lynton to get rid of Ms. Connery?”
The room fell silent. Fletcher didn’t respond, but from what I knew of him, this was often a sign of agreement.
So, last night, when Fletcher went to such lengths to keep me here, was it a coincidence, or was it intentional?
But no matter which it was, I had already been chosen as a shield.
Yes, using someone as insignificant as me to provoke Silvia was far better than having Davina confront her senior directly.
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Even if it got discovered by accident, Fletcher likely wouldn’t suffer any consequences. It would be easy for him to rid himself of me as a competitor. If anything, he’d probably be relieved.
In an instant, it felt as though I had fallen into an icy pit. My chest felt covered by a thick layer of frost, freezing me to the core, my limbs shaking.
The only comforting thought was that Duke had already prepared for this, and for now, Silvia’s side didn’t seem to suspect anything.
I had to leave before she noticed.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
Inside the living room, Fletcher and Duke were sitting at the dining table, enjoying
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breakfast.
Seeing me, Duke stood up politely, smiling as he greeted me. “Mrs. Lynton, you’re awake. You should have some hangover soup.”
I glanced at the soup on the table, then at Fletcher, who was leisurely eating his breakfast. I forced a smile and replied, “No, I’m not hungry.“”
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