C9 After Drinking

"Shh, don't talk," Katie murmured, her eyes half-closed as she pressed a fingertip to his lips, waving her hand dismissively. "I swear I just saw Brother Thirteen..." She laughed, a hint of madness in her voice, as if she had caught sight of someone utterly ridiculous.

Her gaze, blurry and unfocused, fixed on him, catching him off guard. But then, he heard her whisper, "Brother Thirteen..." Anger flashed across his face, his brow furrowed with frustration.

"Damn it," Jabe grumbled, his frown deepening as he took hold of her hand. Without a word, he lifted Katie and dropped her onto the bed before turning to walk away.

Katie, pushed onto the bed, shook her head to regain her bearings and watched his retreating form. Without a second thought, she sat up, reached for his towel, and pulled it from him, the fabric landing in her grasp.

Jabe felt a cool draft as he looked down to see his towel in her hands. He turned back, his expression cold and silent, as he stared at the woman before him.

"Hehe, think you can run?" Katie taunted, flinging the towel at him. She clumsily stood, jumped forward, and landed on him, her hands reaching up to playfully pinch his ears.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, their playful exchange continuing. His intense gaze met her glazed eyes as they both fell back onto the bed.

"Ah... get off, get off," Katie gasped, pushing against him with little strength, feeling crushed and breathless beneath his weight.

He took a deep breath, his eyes dark with a tumultuous desire.

"You're the one who started this," he rasped, his voice thick with passion. His intense eyes held a fiery passion as his hand began to roam.

"Hee hee... that's ticklish," Katie chuckled, mistaking the moment for friendly teasing, unaware of the gravity of the situation in her drunken haze.

She had meant to use the drink to bolster her courage, but instead, she had drunken herself into a stupor.

Her hands weakly pushed against him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What's that... I'm so hungry, is it a bun?" Her stomach growled audibly, and she looked up at him with an expression of woeful hunger.

His eyes darkened, and with a gentle lift of her chin by his long fingers, he leaned in and sealed her lips with a kiss that was both dominating and possessive.

In the dead of night—

A knock reverberated from outside the door. Jabe's focus shifted as he strode over and opened it to find Delos, his expression one of concern.

"Mr. Russell, I've found a lady's shoe downstairs..." Delos wiped the sweat from his forehead, knowing full well that Jabe would never have a woman stay the night.

The sight of that solitary, fetching shoe had thrown him, and after much thought, he felt compelled to bring it up.

Jabe met Delos's gaze sharply.

"We seem to have had a female trespasser," Jabe remarked, his glance inadvertently returning to the bed. Delos sensed an unusual atmosphere and his legs nearly gave out.

"A female trespasser? Mr. Russell, are you unharmed?" Delos's anxiety was evident.

Was Jabe's good name at risk? Delos's heart ached, and he was consumed with the need to confront the intruder.

Seeing Jabe in nothing but a towel, with scratches on his neck, Delos's eyes brimmed with tears. His heart broke, blaming himself for not realizing sooner.

"Mr. Russell, has she hurt you? Has she...?"

Delos stepped back, watching Jabe's indifferent expression. His anger flared, and he wanted nothing more than to tear the offender in two.

"Delos, what do you think?" Jabe sneered, his lips curling into a smirk at the sight of Delos's enraged and vengeful demeanor.

"I..." Delos was speechless, uncertain of how to reply.

Jabe turned back to the bed, his thoughts lingering on the tranquil face that lay there.

Then, heavy footsteps came from below. Jabe turned and walked with purpose back into the bedroom. Volney, seeing Delos's rage, was taken aback but remained silent.

Jabe leaned against the desk, his gaze wandering out the window. Volney entered the bedroom, his eyes quickly sweeping over the bed. The image struck him, but he promptly looked away and stood at attention next to Jabe.

"Mr. Russell."

"Where are the items I requested?" Jabe asked firmly, his silhouette outlined against the window, hands clasped behind his back.

Volney snapped out of his daze, quickly retrieving the documents he had just uncovered and handing them to Jabe.

Yet, his mind was awash with confusion. What had happened? And the woman on the bed—was she linked to the investigation?

"She lives on Old Street?" Jabe's eyes narrowed on her resume, a frown creasing his forehead in surprise. The coincidence was striking.

"Yes."

"Intriguing," Jabe murmured, a cold smirk curling his lips. His sharp gaze swept over the resume, noting her feud with the Howard family heiress and her boyfriend's affair with Caroline.

So, was her purpose today to thwart the demolition?

He looked away, his gaze settling on the woman's face on the bed, and lapsed into a long silence.

"Mr. Russell, surely you haven't been compromised?" Volney teased, a tentative smile on his lips as he noticed the scratch marks on Jabe's neck.

At Jabe's glare, Volney went pale. The document was thrown at him; he caught it, holding his breath, and quickly fled the scene.

Delos, in the hallway, saw Volney's ragged exit and hurried to inquire about the commotion.

The next day.

A shaft of sunlight pierced the window, bathing the spacious bedroom in a golden glow. Katie lay on the bed, her dark hair spread out. She slowly opened her eyes to the grandeur of a crystal chandelier and rubbed her temples, her head throbbing intensely.

"Why am I here?" she whispered, her body aching as though crushed by a truck.

"Did I drink too much? Make a drunken mistake?" Her eyes widened as jumbled memories from the night before surfaced, suggesting regrettable events.

Katie felt immobilized, as if her pressure points had been activated.

Hadn't she come to take photos, to blackmail him into stopping the demolition? How did it end with her losing her virginity?

Her eyes fell on the nightstand where a small camera lay—it was hers. She grabbed it, turned it on, and as the images appeared, a wave of despair engulfed her.

Her scream reverberated throughout the house, startling Delos on the first floor so much that he spun around, bowl in hand, looking back over his shoulder.

Katie was seething with anger as she replayed the events in her mind. She shot a glance at the wardrobe, marched over with purpose, and quickly dressed in the clothes she found. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she furiously cut the remaining garments into tatters. She tied a butterfly knot at the hem of her skirt, but then her eyes landed on the price tag of a torn shirt—$19,999!

"Does having money make you superior? Does wealth give you the right to trample over others?" she raged, stomping on the tag. Staring at her reflection, her eyes red from tears, she gritted her teeth, threw open the door, and stormed out.

The night before, she had slipped in stealthily, but today she was leaving with her head held high in broad daylight.

Delos set his bowl aside and turned to see a tall woman making her way down the stairs, wearing none other than the young master's shirt—the very same shirt that had been delivered just yesterday, now a victim of her fury.

"Excuse me, is Jabe here?" Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her gaze shifting between the middle-aged man and a younger one standing in the foyer.