...At first, her body fought hard, pushing against him with all she had. But then, her resistance suddenly weakened, turning into a faint tremble, so light that for a moment, he almost thought she was responding to his touch.
But then...
A cold, salty taste touched his lips-wet and unmistakable.
She was crying. Because of him touching her?
Was the idea of his touch that unbearable to her?
That stung-badly. Especially since she was the one who came into his life first. But looking at her, tears streaking down her face, he couldn't make himself go any further.
Damn it.
He'd always been ruthless when it came to others, never hesitating. But when it came to her, he just couldn't cross the line. She had a grip on him-heart, soul, everything. Like some curse he couldn't shake off.
Shutting his eyes tight, he let out a shaky breath and pulled away. He straightened his suit jacket, forcing back the urge to look at her one more time, and walked out in a hurry.
The room, once thick with tension, settled into an eerie silence. Ashley sat up slowly on the bed, dazed for a moment, then hugged herself tightly, curling into a ball. Raw fear and pain filled every corner of her mind.
Lucas... where are you? Please... help me.
She couldn't stop the tears-it hurt too much. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably, like she was freezing from the inside out.
She knew crying wouldn't solve anything. She had to pull herself together.
Wiping her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her hand, she tried hard to make sense of the chaos from today.
One second, she was at the altar getting married to Lucas. The next, this man had crashed her wedding and dragged her away like a psychopath. He kept insisting he knew her-even called her by name. And he didn't seem like he was lying. But could she really look that much like someone else? Same name, same face? How was that even possible?
It all happened so fast. Her mind was still reeling. Something had to be wrong here.
His scent was still lingering faintly on her lips, and she scrubbed at them hard, as if trying to erase everything that just happened.
The way he kissed her, so rough and desperate-it terrified her thinking about it. She was this close to... No. She couldn't go there.
It didn't matter who he thought she was or what the hell he wanted. What mattered was that she couldn't just sit around waiting for Lucas to find her. She had to get out-today.
But how the hell was she supposed to escape?
There was no landline in the room, and she didn't have her phone on her. So yeah, calling for help? Not happening. That meant she had to find her own way out. But if she just walked out the front door, she'd be spotted for sure. What now? Ashley scanned the room, her eyes finally landing on the bedsheets beneath her.
After stepping out of Ashley's room, Charles Blackwood headed back to his own. He pulled out a cigarette, slumped down by the floor-to-ceiling window, and lit up, the smoke curling slowly around him.
The tiny glow at the end of the cigarette blinked in and out like a heartbeat, the smoke wrapping around him like a fog-clouding his thoughts just as much.
God, the moment his guy told him they'd found her, he was over the moon. Then, bam-next thing he knows, they tell him she's at a church, marrying some other guy. He thought they screwed up, figured it had to be a mix-up. It couldn't be her... not his Ashley. But he saw it with his own eyes. She was really going through with it.
How could she possibly marry someone other than him?
That one sentence from her-"I don't know you"-kept echoing in his head, burning hot. It pissed him off beyond belief.
Still, no matter how mad he was, seeing her look hurt like that... he just couldn't bring himself to actually lash out at her.
Ashley, what am I supposed to do with you?
He'd been sitting there forever, lighting cigarette after cigarette, searching for an answer that just wouldn't come.
"Sir, lunch is ready," George Finley said as he walked in after knocking. "Would you like to eat now?"
Charles gave a slight nod and calmly snuffed out his cigarette.
"What about Miss Carter? Should I send someone to bring her to the dining room?" George asked.
"No," Charles said, one hand slipping into his pocket. "I'll go get her myself."
With that, he made his way toward Ashley's room.
"Sir!" the two guards at the door immediately straightened when they saw him, one of them opening the door for him right away.
Charles walked in.
Silence. The bed was empty. Completely empty. His expression turned icy in an instant.
"We've been here the whole time, sir. Miss Carter didn't leave," one of the guards blurted out, clearly panicked.
Charles didn't say a word. His fist clenched tightly at his side. He glanced at the empty bed, then strode straight to the balcony. Gripping the railing, he leaned out to look down.
Ashley was halfway down the building, using the bedsheets as a rope. Just as some sound came from above, she looked up, startled.
And for a moment-it was just the two of them, eyes locked mid-air.
