From Desk to Altar: The CEO's Irresistible Bargain

In the midst of a downpour, Liam, without even bothering with an umbrella, dashed towards the unconscious figure of Charlotte on the ground.

"Charlotte!" He scooped her up with a tenderness that belied his urgency, while Daniel had the car running, ready to head to the hospital on a dime.

On the way, Charlotte was burning up, her fever spiking as if trying to compete with the rain's chill.

She must've been freezing; instinctively, she clung to Liam, the closest source of warmth, curling into his embrace, her breaths hot against his chest, as if trying to draw in his very warmth. Liam's heart softened, beating a tender rhythm as he gently stroked her back, offering silent solace.

Daniel caught a glimpse of this tender tableau in the rearview mirror and mused to himself that perhaps, it's when words cease that hearts speak the loudest.

Upon reaching the hospital, Charlotte was carried through the entire examination process. The doctor, who had a penchant for traditional remedies, took her pulse in passing.

"The patient seems fraught with anxiety, stuck in a tense limbo even in unconsciousness. Has she been troubled lately? She must find peace, or healing will remain elusive," the doctor noted. Liam's expression clouded, his gaze falling as he pondered. Had he been too harsh on her?

Despite the medication, Charlotte's fever refused to retreat. When a nurse suggested a rub-down with alcohol to reduce the fever, Liam sent her away.

"I'll do it," he insisted, warming the alcohol in his palms before carefully applying it to Charlotte's back.

Charlotte, in her vulnerability nestled against him like a kitten seeking comfort.

For several days, amidst the storm of their lives, this was perhaps their most serene and tender moment.

But Liam knew, that once the fever broke and Charlotte awoke, their truce would shatter, and the tension would return.

Charlotte's betrayal hung over him like a dagger in his heart; with every attempt at forgiveness, the blade seemed to twist deeper, extinguishing his willingness to forgive.

"You've destroyed everything, Charlotte," he whispered to her sleeping form.

Charlotte endured a feverish night, and Liam remained her steadfast sentinel until dawn's early light crept across the sky. Only after Daniel's persistent coaxing did he gently lay her down to rest.

Daniel was nudging, "The meeting today is a big deal. We've got to chat with some partners, so you gotta rest up to stay sharp for it."

Liam's eyes lingered on Charlotte with an intensity that spoke volumes.

"Get some trustworthy servants from the old mansion to come over."

"At once," came the reply.

As Daniel strode away, dialing the mansion, his voice was firm, a clear warning to the names he listed, "She's in your hands now. Fail her, and there'll be hell to pay."

The two departed hastily, oblivious to the bandaged woman in the corner of the safety passage, her gaze piercing as if piecing together a complex puzzle.

The staff from the mansion arrived swiftly, a trio of matronly figures shoulder to shoulder, their search ending at room 203.

"203... here we are!"

A few folks stopped in front of door 203, just about to push the door open, when a woman came out with a smile, saying, "You've all been so considerate, but I said I could manage on my own. Liam insisted on having you come to take care of me."

Their surprise was evident at recognizing Miss Beaumont, wondering silently if a facial injury warranted such fuss, but they quickly acquiesced; if the young master wished it, even a single fallen hair of Miss Beaumont deserved their utmost

care.

"Oh, Miss Beaumont, what befell your face?" they inquired with genuine concern.

"Just a little stumble," Chloe replied with a dismissive laugh, "A trifle, really. But breakfast has eluded me; might you assist?"

"Of course! That's what we're here for," they affirmed, eager to serve.

Once alone, Chloe's smile vanished, her expression darkening with the storm of her thoughts.

A reconciliation? Impossible.

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Charlotte should abandon any hope of mending fences with Liam.

A cough from the room broke her reverie, and Chloe, with narrowed eyes, returned to the bedside.

"Charlotte, you're awake."

Charlotte awoke with a start, her first instinct to seek the warmth that had guarded her through the night. But instead of that comforting presence, she was met with Chloe's disdainful visage. "Disappointed it's me?" Chloe mocked, arms crossed, "Were you expecting Liam, perhaps?"

Ignoring the taunt, Charlotte queried, "What brings you here?"Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

"You owe me your gratitude," Chloe claimed, "It was I who spared you from the storm's wrath."

Charlotte scoffed at the notion of Chloe playing the savior.

Chloe's smile twisted, "Of course, I saved you. Your suffering is the vessel for my vengeance. Look at my face; it bears the marks of pain meant for you."

She reached out to touch Charlotte's face, but Charlotte slapped her hand away.

"Charlotte, my face is ruined, and I can't stand to see yours stay beautiful."

"Then go ahead, I'm all weak right now, won't put up a fight."

Chloe's smile froze, her anger rising like a tide. "You think I wouldn't dare?"

Charlotte met her gaze defiantly, "If you had the courage, my pain would have already served as my rude awakening."

Chloe hesitated, her hate-filled hands trembling.

Just a heads up: is the only place to read the complete version of this book for free. Don't miss out on the next chapter-visit us now and continue your journey! Charlotte knew that if Chloe really wanted to hurt her, she would've been attacked while she was asleep just now.

With a dismissive pat, Charlotte rose and dressed, "Save your breath; I find your words as empty as this room."

"Don't believe me? Then call Liam and ask him if it was me who had you brought to the hospital!"

Charlotte paused when she heard that. Liam had made it clear last night that he would continue his engagement with Chloe and that he truly disliked her.

He wouldn't have been the one to send her to the hospital.

So what would be the point of calling him? It would be nothing more than a fresh wave of humiliation.

Seeing Charlotte's dazed look, Chloe's lips curled into a smirk.

At this hour, Liam would be swamped with meetings, and unlikely to answer his phone. In the unlikely event Charlotte did reach out to him, she would be met with silence. "What's the matter, scared to make the call?"

Charlotte locked eyes with her adversary. "And if the call does go through, it might just undo all your clever little schemes for today, wouldn't it, Miss Beaumont?"

Without giving Chloe a chance to retort, Charlotte ushered her out. "If you're not going to lay a finger on me, then you might as well leave before you trip over another shard of porcelain and add to that collection of scars on your face." "You!" Chloe spat out, furious. "Do you really think I can't touch you, Charlotte?"

"If you actually had a way to harm me, you wouldn't be standing here wasting your breath," Charlotte countered with a steely calm.

She knew her continued safety was thanks to Thomas and Vincent's unseen aid.

Yesterday's events had been a stroke of luck, allowing Chloe to face the consequences of her own actions.

But such opportunities would be rare in the future.

Chloe, on the other hand, had the mighty Beaumont family and Liam in her corner. Once she dealt with Thomas and Vincent, Charlotte would be her next target for revenge.

Chloe, seething with rage, delivered one last venomous parting shot before she stormed off. "Even with my face ruined, Liam hasn't called off our engagement. Haven't you figured out why yet, Charlotte?"