Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 228

Chapter 228 Drunken Truths

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Damian leaned heavily against the glass balcony door, his suit jacket hanging open and his dress shirt beneath rumpled enough to reveal the defined lines of his chest and shoulders. His long legs stretched awkwardly across the floor, and his eyes burned with drunken accusation.

“Why did you lie to me?” he demanded, his words slightly slurred.

Scarlett frowned, kneeling beside him. “Damian, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was clearly intoxicated–though to what extent, she couldn’t tell.

Hearing her denial, he slapped his own cheek lightly. “I’m an idiot. So many women out there, but you’re the only one I think about.”

As he spoke, a single tear traced a path down his cheek.

The sight twisted something inside her.

She reached out and took his arm. “Damian, you’re drunk.”

When her hand touched him, his eyes darkened. In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

Her neck pressed against the solid curve of his shoulder. He held her so firmly she could feel the coiled strength in his embrace.

He rested his chin against her neck, his voice rough with emotion. “Scarlett, I’m not drunk.”

She tried to push him away. Interpreting the movement as rejection, he only tightened his hold.

His arms felt like they could crush her.

He complained again, his voice thick, “Scarlett, you promised to sleep with me. You owe me. But you never followed through, and now you’re back with Vincent.” His voice broke slightly. “I want to hit you, but I can’t bring myself to.”

He swallowed hard. “Scarlett, don’t you understand? I could never hurt you. I can’t stand to see you in pain. I’m good to you. Why won’t you have me?”

His words brought unexpected tears to her eyes.

He was always so proud, so arrogantly self–assured. Yet here he was, drunk and vulnerable, holding her and saying things that laid his heart bare.

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19:55 Wed, Jan 14

Chapter 228 Drunken Truths

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He had everything–wealth, looks, any woman he could possibly want.

Yet he was saying these things to her.

Scarlett stayed silent. She didn’t know whether to believe him.

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They had no deep history together. She refused to believe her charm alone could captivate a man like him so completely.

Not knowing how to respond, she didn’t push him away. Instead, she gently patted his back. “Damian, you’re drunk. Let me help you to bed so you can rest.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

His voice was gravelly, as though his throat were full of sand.

She nudged him gently. “Can I help you up?”

This time, he didn’t resist. “Okay.”

She stood and helped him to his feet. He was tall, and in his intoxicated state, most of his weight leaned heavily on her.

After guiding him to her bed, she sat beside him. “Get some sleep.”

She reached to pull up the covers, but he suddenly caught her hand.

He stared at her, his eyes full of reproach. “Scarlett, you have no heart.”

She looked down at him, her brow furrowing deeply. “Damian, stop saying things I don’t understand.”

He released her hand, turned his face away, and fell silent.

He was drunk, but not completely gone.

He buried his face in the blankets, breathing in her scent.

It was soft and sweet, subtly intoxicating.

The bed was comfortable. He didn’t want to leave.

He hugged the covers closer, a strange ache tightening in his chest.

Here he was, a grown man nearly six–foot–three, crying in front of a woman.

He felt ashamed, but he couldn’t help himself.

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Chapter 228 Drunken Truths

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Scarlett caught the strong scent of alcohol on him. “Let me get a towel. You should clean up a bit.”

He resisted sharply. “No.”

He was being difficult. Her bedding smelled too good, too clean. He wanted to leave his scent all over it.

But Scarlett insisted, “If you don’t, you can’t sleep in the bed.”

He grumbled reluctantly, “Fine. Go ahead.”

She went to the bathroom for a basin of warm water and a clean towel, then handed it to him.

He took it and wiped his face roughly.

When he was done, he handed it back. “There.”

She knew he hadn’t done a thorough job, but she let it go.

She put the basin and towel away. When she returned, he had switched off the main light, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Scarlett knew she couldn’t make him leave, not in this state.

She decided she would take a pillow and sleep on the sofa.

But as she reached the bed, Damian suddenly grabbed her and pulled her down beside him.

His burning body pressed against hers, so intensely hot that she froze in place.

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