I Fell for the Man Who Ruined Me, Then He Forgot He Ever Loved Me Back novel Chapter 118

Sienna didn't rush to get out of the car. She called Mindy and asked her to come down and help her walk.

Jorrod sat beside her, anxious, gripping her wrist.

Sienna gave her reason: he couldn't enter the building.

So, he could only watch with deep concern as the slightly limping woman slowly disappeared from his sight.

Sienna handed over as much work as she could.

Whatever couldn't be transferred, she saved to a flash drive, intending to work from home.

Just as she was wrapping up.

Janice walked over.

She glanced around. "Sienna, your boyfriend didn't come up? Can you manage with that ankle?"

Sienna nodded. "It's really not that dramatic. The doctor just wants me to rest it so it heals properly."

Janice nodded. "That's good. I'll help you down in a minute."

Sienna rejected the offer without a second thought. "Mindy is going to help me, Janice. It's totally fine."

She had heard that Janice had worked directly under Mr. Vaughn for several months during a previous business trip.

Mindy might not recognize him, but Janice definitely would.

She'd be busted in a heartbeat.

At least until Jorrod regained his memory, she couldn't let him be seen in such a humble state.

Janice paused. "Oh, alright then. Just be extremely careful."

-

The office window was half-open, offering a clear view of the taxi parked near the entrance.

"Even Janice says Sienna's boyfriend is uncanny. If it isn't the sugar daddy we saw the other day, I'm buying the whole office a month of lattes." The speaker was Rena. Her desk was near the window, and when Sienna got out of the car earlier, Rena had conveniently felt "stuffy" and opened it.

The colleagues usually agreed to avoid gossiping about this sort of thing.

But a month of free coffee was too tempting, and their curiosity got the better of them.

Just one look.

He wore a khaki oversized jacket over a straight, athletic torso, layered over an unbuttoned plaid shirt and a solid black t-shirt. Below that were faded, loose-fitting jeans held up by a dark brown leather belt at his narrow waist. His face was hidden, but his aura was extraordinary—narrow waist, long legs, tall and imposing.

For a moment, the people upstairs stopped breathing.

They watched his tall, lean silhouette beautifully highlighted by the midday sun.

But he was moving fast, practically jogging.

He vanished into the blind spot, and when he reemerged, he was carrying a woman in his arms.

Under the man's messy hair, a black mask covered his chiseled face. The woman clung tightly to his neck, burying her entire face into his chest, even pulling his neck down, forcing him to keep his head lowered.

With his long legs taking massive strides, the man made it back to the car in just a few steps.

The crowd's final glimpse was of a pale, elegant wrist extending from his sleeve, long, well-proportioned fingers resting on the door handle before pulling it shut.

Good lord. No helping her walk. He just straight-up carried her back in front of everyone.

"..."

"That's... an old man?"