Chapter 88

Alice was at her breaking point. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Caden to think clearly, though he remained conscious.

“You don’t have to do that,” he stammered. “I didn’t do anything to make you feel good. You did it all.”

Caden chuckled softly, his voice muffled against her. “I appreciate you caring about me,” he said, pulling her close and inhaling the scent of her hair. Alice felt paralyzed, too nervous to respond.

“Do you hate him?” Caden asked, his casual tone belying the intensity in his gaze. He seemed unconcerned by her answer, yet unwilling to let her say yes. Alice couldn't lie, but dared not admit the truth, so she looked away.

Caden pressed on. "If the answer is no, then think of me when you can't sleep." They both understood the unspoken implication. A wave of shame washed over Alice.

"Be quiet," she murmured.

Afterwards, avoiding Caden's gaze, she quickly excused herself to the bathroom. Caden leaned back in his chair, seeking respite. He didn't smoke, so there were no cigarettes. He closed his eyes, relaxing as his heartbeat slowed. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing sweat on his muscled chest.

After what seemed an eternity, Alice emerged from the bathroom. Caden stood a few feet away, feigning normalcy.

"Where is what I asked you for?"

Caden slowly opened his eyes, his gaze locking with hers before he walked to his desk. Alice followed. He perched on the desk's edge. She leaned on him, steadying her shaky legs, before regaining her balance.

Caden handed her the remaining documents, then produced a sealed envelope from a drawer. “There are photographs inside,” he explained, tapping the envelope. “Randolph doesn't want anyone to see them. They’re useless to me, but might be valuable to you.”

Alice glanced at her hand, noticing his clean, slender fingers. The recent intimacy was impossible to ignore.

Caden smirked, noticing her gaze. “What’s on your mind? Do you want to do it again?”

Alice coughed softly, covering her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just curious. Why are you going to all this trouble?” she said, discreetly accepting the envelope. Even drunk, she hadn't held back last time. If he had truly gone too far, she wouldn't have said he forced himself on her. This time, her body had contradicted her words. She wondered what he could have done had he been more forceful.

Caden stated bluntly, “We can continue now, if you want.”

She shook her head vehemently. There was no need.

Hesitating, envelope in hand, she considered leaving.

"If you have something on your mind, say it," he urged.

Leaning in, she whispered, “Caden, do you have some kind of secret illness?”

He was momentarily speechless, then pursed his lips. “You’re right,” he replied nonchalantly.

Alice was stunned. “What the hell?” she muttered to herself.

“What’s wrong?” Caden asked, letting out a snort as he glanced at her. “Why don’t you guess?”

Alice’s mind raced with wild ideas. “Well, take care of yourself,” she said, feeling the intensity of his gaze. Deciding to leave quickly, she turned and departed.

Caden watched her go, slowly leaning back in his chair. Would he give up the chance to sleep with her again? No, of course not. But he was in no hurry; he could wait for the perfect moment. His prey would be even more tempting then.

As Alice reached the door, a thought struck her. She turned back. “Do you need me to take out the kitchen trash?”

Caden was momentarily surprised.

"No," Alice replied indifferently. Caden was speechless.

Meanwhile, at the Yates mansion, Jerald required several meals daily, including one at four in the afternoon. Shelia, eager to gain his favor, attended to his needs.

Bringing his food to the studio, she said, “Take a break, Jerald. You’ve just recovered. Don’t exhaust yourself. Let Joshua handle these chores.”

Jerald snorted, unwilling to burden Joshua. He insisted on working despite his illness.

“Leave it and go away,” he snapped, irritated.

Shelia understood his temperament—his macho insecurities stemming from his past as a live-in son-in-law. She knew that further discussion would only provoke him, so she left.

Remembering Jerald’s medication, worry prompted her to check the medicine cabinet. To her dismay, only a small amount remained. This particular medicine was effective but difficult to obtain; only Caden had the resources. Jerald believed Joshua provided it, and Shelia preferred to let him have the credit, keeping Caden's involvement secret. To maintain the charade, she’d been purchasing counterfeit drugs. The effects were similar; at worst, recovery would be slightly slower.

Just as she mixed the real and counterfeit medicine, she heard Joshua.

"Mom, what are you doing?"