Chapter 180
Waking up with a pounding headache, Finnian took a moment to piece together the foggy memories from the night before. He remembered turning off his phone and heading to the bar for a drink. That was where Dorian and Liliana had found him and brought him to the hotel.
Slowly sitting up, he opened his mouth and realized his throat was parched, feeling like a desert. His head was swimming, and when he touched his forehead, it was scorching. Was he running a fever?
Glancing at Dorian, who was still asleep, Finnian quietly slipped out of the room and made his way to the suite’s living room. He poured himself a glass of lukewarm water, sipping it as he settled onto the couch, staring out the window.
A nightmare had jolted him awake. It was a recurring one, dragging him back to his childhood. He was four or five, clutching a toy in his room when a noise startled him awake in the middle of the night.
Wearing pajamas adorned with bears, he rubbed his eyes and wandered into the living room, only to be shocked by what he saw a flushed father and a woman with alabaster arms wrapped around him, creating an erotic scene that deeply scarred his young heart.
Terrified, he ran back to his room, slamming the door shut, and spent the night tormented by nightmares. Over time, this scene replayed in his memory with different women, but his flushed father and angry mother remained constants. Back then, he didn’t understand love or intimacy. But the glaring scenes and endless arguments at home made him wary of relationships. As he grew up, the nightmares faded, only to resurface without warning now. Why now, of all times?
He sat there, his dizziness intensified, and his body felt increasingly feverish. Realizing the situation turned severe, Finnian decided he should probably head to the hospital. Checking his phone, he saw it was midnight. The nightlife in Wye was in full swing as he staggered out the door.
Meanwhile, Amara had downed a latte earlier that evening, leading to a sleepless night. By eleven, she had given up on sleep and decided to dive into a book. Just as she was getting into it, a loud knocking interrupted her. She glanced at the clock. Nearly one in the morning. Who could it be?
She got up, peering through the peephole, her eyes widened. Finnian? Here?
“Do you need something… Ah p>
Amara pulled the door open. She barely got the words out,
questioning him what was his deal coming to her in the middle of the
night, before Finnian stumbled into her
She let out a yelp, instinctively catching him, but he was too heavy. The impact sent her careening back into the wall. Finnian wrapped his arms around her, causing the latter’s heart racing. “Mr. Everly, what’s going on? Are you feeling unwell p>
Without a reply, Finnian clasped her tight, his chin nestled into the crook of her neck, staying perfectly still.
The faint smell of alcohol lingered around her, and his skin was burning hot. Was he feverish?
After a moment of thought, Amara, gathering her strength, pushed him away. He looked at her with a dazed expression, starkly different from his usualComposed and commanding demeanor. She couldn’t help but feel resigned.
Taking his hand, she led him to the couch, asking, “Did you get lost trying to get home because of the fever p>
Eyes blurred, Finnian just stared at her, mouth slightly open, saying nothing.