Ned's face was slightly somber, his eyes burning with a mad, feverish obsession. He frantically started fumbling with the button on her pants. When the button wouldn't give, he lost it completely and began tearing at it like a maniac, desperate to rip it open.
At that moment, Sophie suddenly snapped back to reality. Coming to her senses, she panicked and shoved him away with all her strength.
"Stop it! You're scaring me!" she cried out.
Ned was pushed aside. Taking the chance, Sophie scrambled back to the corner of the bed and clutched a corner of the blanket to her chest...
Ned stared at her, rigidly, his handsome face completely blank.
"You said you just wanted to come up and see the room. Quit messing around!" she panted, murmuring to him.
Ned slowly sat up, kneeling on his own legs, his gaze never leaving her face.
The room suddenly fell silent. They just looked at each other, neither speaking for a long, long time.
"I want to become one with you. I want you," he finally said after what felt like forever, his voice slow and bitter.
"Isn't this too fast? We haven't even gotten our parents' blessings yet!" Sophie's reply instantly jolted Ned back to clarity.
He slowly turned his face away. "Where's the bathroom?"
"Each floor has two rooms that share one bathroom," Sophie answered weakly. "Turn right in the hallway outside and go all the way to the end."
Ned immediately rolled off the bed and opened the door.
Sophie picked up her phone from the nightstand and checked— it was already 2 a.m.
It was a long while before Ned came back. "I'm leaving," he said, looking completely normal again, his expression calm and composed.
Now it was Sophie who felt awkward. "It's 2 a.m.—way too late. Just stay and sleep here. You can drive straight to C&C in the morning when you wake up," she said.
"There's only one bed. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to sleep here," he replied, his tone extremely cold. "And with you here, I probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway." With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
"Don't go downstairs—I'm leaving now. It's snowing heavily outside," he said, turning back to Sophie, who had followed him out the door. Then he gently hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Next time, you're not allowed to reject me again!" After saying that, he gave her one deep, lingering look, then strode downstairs.
Sophie leaned against the doorframe, watching his figure disappear from sight. Lost in thought, she closed the door. Then she ran to the window and stared down at the alley in front of the apartment. It was a long time before she finally saw him get into the car and drive off down the main street through the heavy snowfall.
...
Ever since his conversation with his son that day, Jonathan had been closely monitoring Ned's whereabouts. He was afraid that the two young people, caught up in the heat of their romance, might do something irreversible.
At eight in the morning, Jonathan sat at the breakfast table. He finished his entire meal, yet Ned still hadn't come downstairs. He summoned the butler. "Go check—why hasn't Ned come down for breakfast?"
"Young Master Ned didn't come home last night," the butler replied immediately.
Hearing this, Jonathan felt a twinge of panic. He looked across the table at his wife. "Call our son. Ask where he is."
Victoria was baffled by her husband's sudden urgency. "What's going on? You've never been this concerned about him. Why the rush all of a sudden?"
"It's nothing."
"How is it nothing? Tell me what's wrong!"
Ned had ignored his instructions, and Jonathan was already irritated. With his wife pressing him again and again, his temper finally snapped.
"He didn't come home all night, and you didn't even notice? What kind of mother are you?!"
Victoria's eyes widened in shock at her husband's abrupt accusation. "He's always out socializing! When you were young, didn't you do the same? Every time I asked, you'd pick a fight with me. Now it's our son's turn—he's often too busy to have breakfast with us. Haven't you gotten used to it yet? How would I know whether he came home last night? If you can't find him, why take it out on me?!"
She rolled her eyes at him. "If you want to find Ned, call him yourself. Don't always shove these thankless tasks onto me. Lately, because of that Sophie girl, he's already argued with me several times."
Jonathan snorted, stood up abruptly, ignored the freshly ground coffee Angela had just brought, and prepared to head to C&C to look for him.
Victoria glared at her husband's retreating back until she heard the front door slam shut. "Getting yelled at first thing in the morning—ugh, you're insufferable. You've ruined my whole mood for breakfast!" she muttered angrily.
Then she set down her knife and fork—she'd lost her appetite, too.
Around 8:50 a.m., Jonathan stepped into the president's office at C&C and noticed the door to the adjoining rest room was ajar. Walking over, he saw Ned lying fully dressed on the single bed inside, asleep.
So that's where he spent the night. Even in sleep, he looked utterly exhausted.
Jonathan quietly closed the door.
The instant the door clicked shut, Ned woke up. He rolled over, then opened his eyes.
Sunlight poured in through the window, brightly illuminating the roughly ten-square-meter rest room.
He slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. A stabbing pain shot through his temples. He hadn't fallen asleep until nearly six in the morning, and now his head was pounding.
After resting a moment, he began to hear employees chatting outside. He got up, went into the attached washroom, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on his face…
Ten minutes later, he stepped into the office.
"You're awake?" Jonathan's voice made Ned freeze for a second. After glancing at his father, he replied, "Yeah… I should wake up." He understood why his father had come so early and answered in a cool, detached tone.
"Good. It's good that you realize that. Then I can rest easy." Jonathan rose from the sofa. "The day after tomorrow, I've scheduled a meeting with Dean Macy. You're coming with me. This matter needs to be settled once and for all."
"Yes, Father. Are you heading somewhere now? Shall I drive you?" Ned asked respectfully.
"The driver's waiting downstairs. I'm going straight to work. You should sort out the tasks on your plate as well." As he walked toward the door, Jonathan continued, "The energy merger is still in its early stages. There's still plenty of time to make big moves…"
Only after Ned had escorted him all the way to the parking spot did Jonathan finally say what he had really come to say: "As for Sarah and Sophie—handle their departure exactly as I told you. Send them to America."
Ned lowered his head in silence, offering no reply. He didn't look up again until his father's car had pulled out of the parking lot; the moment he did, the unwillingness burning in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Isabella had only just come downstairs when she saw her husband standing in the entryway, seeing off a stranger she had never seen before.
"Who was that? Who is he?" she asked as she walked down the last few steps.
"You don't know him," Charles replied casually, turning back toward the living room.
"Then what did he want?" she pressed.
"He came to deliver this." With that, Charles tossed the envelope he was holding onto the coffee table.
"What is it?" Isabella paused for a second, then picked up the envelope and pulled out the photographs inside. "Photos? Whose—oh! Isn't this Sophie Davies? And that—" She clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.
"He didn't leave her little apartment until after two in the morning," Charles explained without the slightest change in expression. "They were alone in that room together for four hours."
Isabella gasped again. "After two a.m.? Four hours—what on earth were they doing? And—and look at them hugging like that! Have they no shame?" Furious, she flung the photos onto the table.
She was livid on her daughter's behalf.
Charles calmly gathered the pictures, slipped them back into the envelope, and sealed it.
"Where did you even get these?" Amidst her anger, something felt off to Isabella, and she turned to her husband with the question.
"Why are you having someone follow Sophie Davies? Just to take these photos? What can you even do with pictures like this?"
"I have my uses for them," Charles replied calmly. "Right now, these photos don't prove anything yet. But since they're so determined to be together no matter what, and they don't care about the consequences, if we keep watching long enough, we'll definitely get what I need."
Isabella stared at her husband with her mouth agape. "I never imagined you would do something like this."
"You don't need to get involved in this matter. Just pretend you know nothing about it."
"Mm..." Isabella hesitated, then nodded.