Chapter 10: Intimacy

As I found myself lost in despair, the door to the private room burst open, revealing Devon and Balley. Relief flooded through me, yet my senses were muddled, and the voices around me seemed distant and indistinct.

I caught a blurred glimpse of Devon confronting Carter, swiftly rendering him unconscious with a single punch, before I succumbed to a dizzy spell, sinking onto the couch with a flush creeping across my cheeks.

Devon's visage, already fierce, contorted further with fury as he turned his attention to Carter. "You drugged her, you animal," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "I don't care if you're Dong's lackey or his lapdog, this isn't over."

Without hesitation, he scooped me up into his arms, his gaze locking onto Balley. "Get the car," he commanded tersely.

I surrendered to Devon's embrace, his hurried footsteps echoing around me as though I were cocooned in cotton. Every surface felt soft to the touch, my efforts feeble as I grappled with dizziness and heat.

Soon enough, we were ensconced in a car, Devon cradling me in the backseat.

The heat coursing through my body compelled me to tug at my collar, struggling to open my heavy eyelids. Devon's worried expression greeted me, stirring an inexplicable sense of endearment, a desire to bestow upon him a tender kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, uttering nonsensical murmurs. "Devon, hold me," I mumbled.

He attempted to soften his tone, his voice tinged with concern. "Aria, we'll be home soon."

Nestling into the crook of his neck, my fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, yearning to alleviate the stifling heat. Yet Devon intercepted my movements, his gaze glazed, his voice gentle but firm. "Aria, no."

My thoughts were clouded, and I could only emit a helpless groan against his neck.

Dialing a number on his phone, Devon issued instructions. "Rosa, prepare a bath of cool water for Aria. We'll be home shortly."

As the journey stretched on, the oppressive heat persisted, driving me to futile attempts to shed my garments. Devon held me steadfastly, refusing to yield to my restless movements.

When we returned home, he carried me upstairs while Rosa followed, expressing concern about my condition. I could hear her voice as she urged him to hurry because the water was already running.

As we reached the bathroom, I felt him removing my jacket and pants, leaving me in my shirt. He gently lowered me into the cold water, and I couldn't help but mutter something under my breath, the cold shock almost overwhelming.

Devon, sensing my discomfort, took my hand, pressed it to his lips, and assured me, "It's okay, you'll feel better soon. I'll stay with you." Despite my mind still in a haze, I continued mindlessly fiddling with the buttons of my shirt.

Gradually, as consciousness returned, I became aware of the coldness seeping into my body and the clarity returning to my vision. I glanced down to see my unbuttoned shirt, revealing only my underwear, while Devon knelt beside the tub, his eyes filled with concern and anger, but no hint of desire.

Struggling to find my voice, I managed to whisper, "Devon, I'm feeling better."

He helped me out of the tub, settled me into a nearby chair, and gently dried me off with a washcloth from head to toe. Then, he found my pajamas and assisted me in putting them on, even taking the time to blow-dry my hair. After laying me down on the bed, he kissed my forehead and reassured me, "Rest well. I'll have Rosa bring you something to eat and drink."

I weakly nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, and apologized for the trouble. His response was firm yet comforting, "It's no trouble at all. Just rest, I'll take care of everything." With that, he left the room.

Though I wasn't sure what he meant by 'taking care of it,' I trusted him to handle whatever needed to be done. He didn't return until late that night, having taken a shower before checking on me. Even then, I noticed the bruises on the back of his hands, a reminder of the turmoil we both endured.

I've spotted ashtrays around the house before, but never witnessed him smoking in my presence.

As I descended the stairs, he hastily extinguished the cigarette in his hand, rose from his seat, grasped my hand, and inquired about my well-being.

My gaze drifted to his hand, and I lightly traced the cut on my knuckle. He glanced at it, retracting his hand, before inquiring about my culinary preferences and dispatching Rosa to fulfill them.

"I'll have millet porridge," I stated.

While Rosa bustled in the kitchen, we sat in silence on the couch.

Eventually, I rose to fetch the first aid kit, taking his hand in mine to administer the remedy.

Observing my careful ministrations, he murmured, "I'm sorry. None of this would have happened if not for me."

"If it weren't for you, I might not even be able to afford school," I countered after a pause, acknowledging my own role in the situation. "I'm the one causing you trouble."

Though unfamiliar with this "Tongo" character, their repeated mentions suggested significance beyond the ordinary.

"Wouldn't Tung retaliate if you acted against Carter?" I pressed.

"No, it's not proper to interfere with someone interested in my associates. Rest assured, I won't let it happen again. From now on, I'll only allow Balley to fetch you, not myself," he assured me.

Satisfied, I finished tending to him and nodded.

As the porridge simmered on the stove, I sat at the table to enjoy it. He had already eaten but lingered beside me, engrossed in his phone.

Suddenly, I pondered if this sensation mirrored love.

From what I've observed, he's unmarried and lacks a genuine girlfriend, else he wouldn't have spent New Year's Day with me.

As I mulled over the incident at the bar, Carter's casual remark about "switching", and the brazenness with which he treated me, it dawned on me that his audacity stemmed from not considering me as Devon's girlfriend. If he had, he likely wouldn't have dared to drug me, even amidst his fervor.

Reflecting further, it occurred to me that Devon must attract plenty of female attention, though it appeared to be more about casual enjoyment than serious commitment.

In hindsight, my earlier musings seemed ludicrous. While it might be comforting to have some degree of reliance, what reputation would that entail?