True Heiress Returns to Her Unemployed Rich Family (Arabella) novel Chapter 647

Arabella was flustered and instinctively grabbed onto Matthew's shirt, holding tight.

Just then, the door flew open. "Mr. Stewart! Dr. Hamilton!" Andy rushed in, sounding worried.

The air froze for a second. Taking in the scene on the bed, only one thought flashed through Andy's mind. I'm so dead.

"My apologies," he blurted, backing out immediately and shutting the door behind him.

Inside the room, the two of them were still processing what had just happened.

"What... was that about?" Arabella muttered, confused.

"Nothing," Matthew replied, his tone even but his expression slightly off.

Arabella didn't press further. "Oh."

She glanced up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were, and felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Thanks for catching me, Mr. Stewart," she said, carefully easing herself out of his hold, trying to make the movement smooth and pretending she wasn't tense.

"Don't mention it." Matthew withdrew his arm.

But the sudden emptiness left him feeling oddly hollow.

"Well... it's getting late. I should probably head out," Arabella said, already sliding off the bed and gathering herself to leave.

Matthew watched her, hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

"Don't forget to take your meds," she reminded him before picking up her medical kit and turning to go.

As she walked away, Matthew parted his lips slightly as if to say something, but in the end, he simply got out of bed without a word...

Outside the door.

"Dr. Hamilton!" Robert sounded surprised. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, Dr. Hamilton stopped by to check on Mr. Stewart," Andy jumped in to explain.

"Right. Yeah, that's it," Arabella echoed, feeling awkward.

Robert looked concerned. "Is Matthew's condition serious?"

"Mr. Stewart mentioned a headache after he sobered up. Just to be safe, I asked Dr. Hamilton to come take a look," Andy added quickly.

"Yeah," Arabella said, her voice a bit stiff.

Robert accepted the explanation. "Thank you for coming, Dr. Hamilton. Please, go ahead and see him."

"Sure," Arabella agreed, though reluctantly, and found herself turning back toward the room.

What she didn't expect was to walk in on Matthew getting dressed.

Oh, great.

His upper body was bare. He had his pants on but was in the middle of fastening his belt.

One hand held the buckle, the other the leather strap—a scene vivid enough to spark anyone's imagination.

Matthew's eyes narrowed slightly. "Planning to keep watching?"

Arabella's face flushed instantly. She spun around, embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

Ugh, this is so awkward between us. Wouldn't it be better to head outside?

Only then did Arabella realize she'd been so eager to escape the awkwardness that she'd forgotten to keep up appearances.

She bit her lip gently, steadied herself, and asked, "Robert doesn't know what happened last night, does he?"

"No. Andy didn't tell him," Matthew replied.

Arabella raised an eyebrow. "Because he didn't want Robert to worry, or because he was afraid Robert would try to stop you from doing what you planned?"

Matthew's gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly. "Both," he said quietly.

"I see," Arabella replied, deciding not to ask any more—especially not about what Matthew intended to do regarding Naomi.

"Let's head out," Matthew said, his demeanor cooling back to its usual reserve.

"Okay." Arabella followed him out of the room.

Once outside, she addressed Robert in a professional tone. "He's taken the supplements I prepared. Just advise him to take it easy for the next couple of days—adequate rest and he'll be fine."

"Good to hear," Robert said, though he still shook his head in mild disapproval. "This kid. I don't know what came over him, drinking like that."

He found it hard to believe Matthew would lose control like that.

"We went deep into reviewing the project terms yesterday. I ended up having more than I should have," Matthew explained smoothly.

"Hmph," Robert responded, still displeased.

In his view, even if Matthew drank too much, it was his own doing—no one could force him.

"Mr. Robert Stewart, now that Mr. Stewart is alright," Andy interjected gently, "why don't we all have some breakfast?"