Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 61

Damien looked up and saw Grace’s eyes shut tight, crystalline tears clinging to her long lashes.

Even in her semi-conscious state, she was still crying.

That single tear was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, instantly dousing the flames of desire that had clouded his mind.

What was he doing?

She had just escaped from one hell.

She had called out to him for help, so helplessly.

And he… he was taking advantage of her, he had almost…

*Damien, you bastard! You deserve to die!*

He abruptly stopped all movement, using every ounce of willpower he possessed to pull away from her.

He looked at the woman in his arms—her clothes disheveled, cheeks flushed, tear stains on the corners of her eyes—and his heart ached so much he could barely breathe.

He took off his suit jacket and gently covered her exposed skin, inch by inch.

Then, he carefully lifted her onto the bed and pulled the velvet comforter over her, wrapping her slender body up tightly until only her small, delicate face was visible.

After doing all this, he turned and strode into the bathroom as if he were fleeing.

The sound of splashing water filled the room.

Cold water rained down from the showerhead.

Damien closed his eyes, letting the frigid stream wash over him.

Half an hour later, he picked up the room's internal phone.

When the call connected, his voice had returned to its usual cold, calm state, devoid of any emotion.

“Felix.”

“Mr. Clarke, your orders?”

“Two things.”

Damien’s gaze fell on the small bundle on the bed, visible through the bathroom’s glass door. His voice was so cold it could have formed ice crystals.

“First, make sure our neighbor, Mr. Brooks, sleeps soundly in his own room until noon tomorrow.”

“Who is it?!”

Simon Brooks spun around, on guard.

Two towering bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses walked in, their faces expressionless.

“Who are you people? Do you have any idea who I am?!” Simon Brooks yelled, his voice full of false bravado.

One of the men in black ignored him completely and walked straight up to him.

Before Simon Brooks could react, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, and everything went black as he lost consciousness.

The other bodyguard took a bottle of strong liquor from his pocket and skillfully poured most of it over Simon Brooks and the hotel room carpet.

He then tossed the man's portly body onto the bed in a particularly unflattering position.

Finally, they picked up a priceless antique vase from a table and gently tapped it against Simon Brooks’ nightstand, creating a tiny crack.

The crack was subtle, yet fatal.

It was enough to make any expert who saw it gasp in horror.