Chapter 6

Once I recovered, I immediately restrained Seraphina.

“Ms. Thorne, please, try to clear your head.”

Seraphina’s expression gradually became clearer.

She hadn't ingested much of the drug, and with the sudden exertion and sweat, its effects were mostly wearing off.

The moment she fully awoke, she immediately realized the current situation was all wrong.

In the dim moonlight, Seraphina saw me.

“You!”

Seraphina gritted her teeth, pushed me away, and then noticed my unresponsive state.

She then picked up her phone and called her driver.

Although she had been drugged, her memory wasn’t completely blank.

While the situation was ultimately her fault, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Before she could ponder further, the driver arrived.

She looked at me in silence for a moment, then signaled the driver to take me to the hospital.

After all, she had inadvertently caused my injuries.

When I woke up, three days had already passed.

During those three days, a lot had happened in the city.

First, the companies that had attended the gala all suffered varying degrees of retaliation from Thorne Enterprises, while Blackwood Industries, conversely, saw its stock rise.

Second, photos of Seraphina Thorne and Damon Blackwood enjoying a sweet outing once again topped the social media feeds.

When I saw this news upon waking, instead of feeling discouraged, I smiled with satisfaction.

Men and women are alike; once guilt settles in their hearts, they become exceptionally good to their partners, often compensating with material things.

I figured Seraphina hadn’t slept well these past few days.

Next, I would ensure that Seraphina’s heart slowly became solely mine.

After I returned to work, I would instinctively avoid Seraphina whenever I saw her.

Even during official duties, I rarely made eye contact with her.

Seraphina naturally noticed I was trying to keep my distance.

However, my considerate behavior actually made Seraphina less awkward.

But as the days went by, a peculiar feeling stirred in Seraphina's heart, and her attention towards me increased.

One day, Damon Blackwood came to Thorne Enterprises again.

But Damon didn't go looking for Seraphina; instead, he found me.

He sat at my desk, scornfully leafing through the documents on it.

With a sweep of his hand, his bodyguards scattered the reports I had painstakingly organized over three days all over the floor.

Then, they placed two large boxes of alcohol on my desk.

“Asher, Seraphina has already reprimanded me for what I did to you before. So, I specially brought some good liquor to make amends.”

Damon smiled, but his eyes were full of cold malice.

“I assume you wouldn’t refuse me this courtesy, would you, Asher?”

I looked at the liquor on the table, none of which was below eighty proof. Before I could speak, bodyguards pushed me down into the chair opposite Damon.

Damon took a bottle of vodka from a box, examined it for a moment, then smirked at me.

“Asher, how about we start with this bottle? This vodka was specially airlifted from Russia; I’ve treasured it for years. You can’t waste a single drop, you hear?”

As he spoke, a bodyguard respectfully took the vodka from Damon’s hand.

He opened the bottle and menacingly placed it in front of me.

“Drink!”

I looked at the liquor before me, then at the bodyguards and Damon, who wore a malicious grin.

I knew there was no escaping this drinking session today.

So, I picked up the bottle and started to drink. Soon, a deep flush spread across my cheeks, and my expression grew hazy.

But there was no way Damon Blackwood would let me off that easily.

Seeing me repeatedly shake my head in refusal, Damon gave a look.

One bodyguard pinned me down, while another poured the alcohol directly into my mouth.

Damon watched my struggles with amusement, then casually picked up an empty bottle and struck me on the head.

“Asher, don’t fall asleep! You’ve only had a few drinks; keep drinking!”

It wasn't until I was on my knees, my face flushed, trying to stick my fingers down my throat to vomit the ingested alcohol, that the smile finally left Damon’s face.

He kicked me hard, his voice filled with viciousness.

“What are you spitting out? If it weren’t for me, you’d never get to drink such good liquor in your life!”

“Swallow it, you hear me!”

When he saw my veins throbbing, and me collapsing, convulsing in pain on the vomit-strewn floor, Damon finally seemed satisfied.

He placed his foot on my face, playfully grinding it, then whispered:

“Trash belongs in the trash can. Know your place, understand?”

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