At this moment, she felt like she was in deep water and fire, her whole body completely soft. On second thought, the paparazzi wouldn't serve a life-threatening drug; given her current condition, she could guess what kind of drug it was.
"I can't call 120." Rosie Scott's voice was soft, her arms weak. She leaned on her fragile consciousness and turned on the bathtub faucet, falling into the tub, soaking herself in cold water.
The hot body found some relief.
'Knock knock knock,' Mr. Carey rapped on the bathroom door: "Miss Scott, make a sound, otherwise I'll kick the door in."
Rosie Scott felt as if heaven was against her, her past life was already full of hardships, and now she was facing difficulties in this one as well.
The young woman submerged herself in the bathtub; if she endured, she'd be a hero again; if she didn't, then it'd just be dying once more.
Cold water flooded her nostrils and ear canals, and she couldn't hear anything besides the sound of water, feeling like she was a red-hot iron falling into cold water, ready to boil it.
The sensation of deep water and fire confused her consciousness.
Suddenly, a strong arm scooped her from the water-filled tub, supporting her back.
Cold water streamed down her face, her skin translucent like a lotus emerging from water.
Rosie Scott gasped for air, water droplets pattering, her black hair wrapped around her neck. Amidst the resignation was an alluring daze; the rims of her eyes were red, her entire body hot.
As their eyes met, Mr. Carey's Adam's apple moved with difficulty. He realized something was wrong: "Rosie, I'll call 120 immediately, you..."
"No, you can't." The young woman's body was soft, her voice gentle, like she was a puddle leaning against the bathtub's edge; at this moment, if she made the call, it'd directly ruin her career path.
What's future talk of turning the tide, flipping against adversity?
She'd thought it through; since heaven allowed her a second chance at life, she couldn't die so easily.
Mr. Carey noticed her radiant skin carrying a hint of strange redness, her light breathing sounded like someone scratching at his heart and liver, and upon realizing the young woman's implicit intent in her hazy eyes, he immediately turned his head away: "This circle may be chaotic, but I'm not someone who acts recklessly."
Rosie Scott tightly closed her eyes, her mind felt like it exploded into flowers, consciousness intermittent, and ultimately, she couldn't even open her mouth. She cursed this client daddy inwardly.
Not even taking the duck that's delivered to the mouth, you truly are a gentleman.
After a long standoff, Rosie Scott awkwardly forced out a sentence: "Given this, Mr. Carey, why don't you help me find a man."
The fury in Mr. Carey's dark eyes surged forth.
Rosie Scott was quite open-minded; since he wasn't someone who acted recklessly, then it'd be best to find someone who could get things done. The smallest loss right now would be to find a man to take care of the matter first, then clean up silently afterwards.
As long as it's handled well, no one would know about this scandalous gossip.
The young woman had already turned into a weak pile, and for some reason, after saying this, there was a long silence in the bathroom. She thought Mr. Carey was figuring out a plan, who knew, the next second she was separated from the water, and the splashing sound echoed in the bathroom.
She was picked up.
"If anyone can do it, then let me be the one."
The young woman's muddled consciousness faintly picked up the man's words, sounding as if he was gnashing his teeth.
It seemed as if it truly troubled him.
————
The horizon turned faint white; it would take a few more hours for the sun's rays to dispel the dense fog of the Ancient Village. At this moment, outside the window, green was entwined by white fog, and there was even a layer of frost on the window.
Rosie Scott awoke in bed, feeling as if she died once more. She thought she would maintain her boundaries, even entering this circle wouldn't involve selling her body, but after this night, her boundaries shattered.
She turned her head and collided into a pair of black eyes, her heart tightened, and thinking of the previous night's events made her blush fiercely. Despite her thick skin, she couldn't directly face the man's eyes.
"You..." Rosie Scott started, her hoarse voice sounding like nails on a glass, her face reddened further.
Originally, Mr. Carey saw the sadness in her eyes, his face not looking too good, but when she blushed and rasped out a sound, he couldn't hold back his laughter.
"I'll get you a glass of water."
Rosie Scott watched him rise, that glare-inducing back in her view conjured up a heavy sense of guilt; the man's back bore scratch marks, looking as if he had been whipped, varying in length, swollen and red.
She was truly mad.
She truly experienced losing both the lady and the army.
Last night's events, if it had been any ordinary night, she would have felt she let herself down. However, in the Ancient Village where enemies surrounded her, with no emergency medical team, to prevent the paparazzi from getting evidence, Mr. Carey's selfless rescue made Rosie Scott feel deeply guilty towards him.
He originally had boundaries, not someone who acted recklessly; those were his own words last night, yet he broke them because of her.
"Drink some water, it's still early, the surrounding paparazzi have cleared out, you can return to your room without worry." Seeing her wince when getting up, he stepped forward to help, saying: "If you need me to carry you back to your room, I..."
"No, I can do it myself." The girl eyed the man's slightly stunned expression, awkwardly took the cup from his hand, and sipped the sweet water to soothe her throat. After drinking, she instinctively glanced at the bottom of the cup, which amused Mr. Carey.
"A bit of trauma." The girl handed the cup back to him with an air of command. The man raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly and placed the cup back on the table.
Rosie Scott took a long time to muster courage; she felt it necessary to clarify this, otherwise unknown troubles might arise in the future.
"That, Mr. Carey, I apologize for what happened, I mean, we're both adults..."
"You don't intend to be responsible?"
The young woman's raspy voice; she indeed didn't intend to be responsible, but this kind of situation, shouldn't this line of inquiry be a woman's towards a man?
Suddenly, with the man questioning the woman, she felt: Heavens, can someone tell me the correct way to handle having slept with the client daddy?
"I'll speak first." The young woman took the lead: "My situation might be somewhat special, you know the Anderson Family, right? I'm the fiancée of the second son of the Anderson Family, although we're not yet married, it's almost certain, so I can't take responsibility for you right now."
As Rosie Scott spoke, her voice grew quieter, feeling herself more like a man who shirked responsibility after dressing, while the tall and robust Carey at this moment seemed like a woman abandoned by all.
His face clouded, his eyes even carried a hint of loss, several times wanting to speak yet remained silent.
"I understand, a one-night stand, right?"
"Uh... Sort of, not entirely."
Taking advantage of the early hour, Rosie Scott quietly slipped back into her bed, before she could relax, Jane's voice came naggingly from behind.
"Rosie Scott, where did you go?"