Luana was holding a pillow, her small face resting on it, her long eyelashes covering her clear, innocent eyes.
Seeing her deep in sleep, Calvert couldn't bring himself to wake her. Worried that she might be uncomfortable sleeping upright, he bent down and gently picked her up.
The moment he held her, several fragmented memories flashed through his mind—as if he had carried her like this before.
He looked down at her peaceful, beautiful face and felt, in that instant, that Luana had once belonged to him.
But he couldn't remember her. No matter how hard he tried, the memories slipped away, and the deeper he dug, the more his head ached.
The pain was like countless worms gnawing at his brain, devouring every fragment of memory until nothing remained.
[$]
His face turned pale, and cold sweat broke out on his skin, but he held her tightly, unwilling to let go.
It felt as though if he released her, he would lose her forever—a feeling so unbearable it was like living death.
The sound of knocking on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Startled, he quickly placed Luana back on the long sofa.
"Come in."
At his voice, Dale pushed the door open.
"Mr. Coburn, the bidding meeting has been moved up. We need to head in now."
"Wasn't it scheduled for 2 p.m.?"
"That was the original time, but Moriarty Group just notified us that it's been moved up."
Calvert frowned. For such a large corporation to change the schedule so arbitrarily was absurd.
"Mr. Coburn, we should hurry. Moriarty Group said anyone who isn't there will be disqualified."
"Only they would pull something like this."
Calvert scoffed but started to leave. He glanced back at Luana.
"Should we wake Miss Hammond?" Dale asked.
"No."
Calvert took off his jacket and draped it over her small frame.
Then he turned and followed Dale toward the meeting venue.
Luana, once asleep, fell into a deep, almost comatose state and was nearly impossible to wake.
She only stirred when she felt someone tapping her face several times.
Blinking groggily, her vision was still blurry, and it took her a while to focus on the figure in front of her.
"Mr. Coburn, is that you?"
Before she could fully process her surroundings, she was abruptly pulled up.
The world spun, and a sharply defined face suddenly loomed close to hers.
"Look closely. Who do you think I am?"
The cold voice snapped her awake.
It wasn't Calvert—it was Cline!
Her heart raced as she met his distant, peach-blossom eyes.
She instinctively looked away, only to notice his hand gripping her waist.
He must have lifted her from the sofa by her waist.
Now she was half-lying on the sofa, with him leaning over her. Though their bodies weren't touching, the position was undeniably intimate.
She reached out with her small, soft hand to push him away, but the moment her fingers brushed his shirt sleeve, he snapped, "Don't touch me!"
[$]
Luana froze, her hand trembling mid-air.
She quickly withdrew it, confused and frustrated.
He wouldn't let her touch him, yet he kept touching her. This man was utterly unreasonable!
Too afraid to look at him, she kept her head down and asked in a small, trembling voice, "Mr. Moriarty, do you need something from me?"
Her voice shook, whether from fear or her weakened state, she wasn't sure.
Cline's expression was icy as he glanced at the men's jacket still draped over her.
It seemed to irritate him. He grabbed the jacket and threw it toward the trash can.
When the jacket landed perfectly inside, Luana's face paled.
"Mr. Moriarty, did you come here just to throw Mr. Coburn's jacket away?"
She didn't know when Calvert had covered her with his jacket, but Cline's action was unnecessarily over.
It made her think he was just being spiteful.
If he disliked her so much, why keep seeking her out? Why bully her like this?
Anger surged within her, and for some reason, she found the courage to push him away.
She struggled to her feet, determined to leave the lounge, but Cline yanked her back.
She collided with his chest, the impact so hard it felt like hitting a wall. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain.
Blinking through her tears, she looked up at the man who had trapped her in his arms.
"Mr. Moriarty, what do you want from me?"
Cline's cold eyes burned with suppressed anger.
Why did you lie to me?"
He seemed to have been holding back for a long time. As he asked the question, his eyes turned bloodshot.
"What?"
Luana was completely baffled. Lie about what?
Cline, seeing her feigned ignorance, moved his hand from her waist to the back of her head.
He pulled her close, his face inches from hers, and stared coldly into her eyes.
"You've known Calvert for years, yet you told me you just met him!"
"You've lied to me over and over. Do you think this is a game?"