CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER 77: WHEN YOU WAKE UP TOMORROW, WILL YOU STILL REMEMBER ME?

Just a kiss.

Serena Sinclair felt as if all her strength had been drained.

Her body kept sinking downward relentlessly.

Wyatt Hawthorne caught her by the waist, holding her close, pecking at her lips, and asked hoarsely, "How much did you drink?"

"Just, a little bit..."

The breath she exhaled carried a faint scent of wine.

Serena Sinclair hadn’t finished speaking before Wyatt kissed her again.

If the kiss at Hillcrest Villa was stolen last time,

only daring to lightly touch and taste.

Then this time, it was openly snatched.

Capturing her lips.

Entwining her tongue.

Wyatt kissed her hard, as if he wanted to turn those fleeting dreams into reality.

"... Mm..."

At first, there was still a sound of whimper.

But the body in his arms sank like a floating piece of wood.

When Wyatt breathlessly let go of her,

Serena Sinclair tilted her head and softly leaned against him.

Fallen... asleep?

"Serena?"

He called her softly, but Serena Sinclair showed no reaction.

Wyatt chuckled to himself.

There wasn’t even a bed in the office, so she couldn’t sleep here.

Wyatt lifted her horizontally and went downstairs.

Upon reaching the staircase, he saw Adrian Lockwood wandering a few steps away.

For a moment, Wyatt considered just walking past.

Just the thought of Adrian Lockwood showing a shocked expression,

maybe with wide-eyed disbelief.

Maybe he’d charge over like mad.

Who cares!

But knowing that Serena Sinclair would definitely not be happy, Wyatt regretfully sighed.

Holding Serena tighter,

he took off his suit jacket to cover her upper body.

Wyatt made his way outside.

In the lobby downstairs, Adrian Lockwood seemed like a headless fly.

He didn’t find Serena upstairs.

Back downstairs, even Una Hutton was nowhere to be seen.

Reasonably suspecting they were diverting attention to sneak away while he searched.

Adrian Lockwood turned around, just in time to see Wyatt approaching.

And the woman in his arms.

Her head and face covered by his suit jacket.

The woman either shy or drunk, obediently nestled in Wyatt’s embrace.

Like a kitten.

His gaze paused for a moment, feeling the pressure of being hunted.

Adrian Lockwood raised his eyes, facing Wyatt’s cold glance.

As if that look was coveting his woman.

Overly offensive and rude!

"Wyatt..."

Adrian wanted to greet him.

But Wyatt seemed not to recognize him.

Or perhaps he did, but chose to ignore him.

The three brushed past each other.

The woman’s high heel tip hooked over his shirt.

Under the sweep of lights, with just a glance, Adrian Lockwood confirmed she wasn’t Serena.

The woman in Wyatt’s arms wore a short black dress just past her thighs.

The dress seemed woven with silver threads, dazzling under the lights.

Slender black stockings, matched with high heels.

Alluring and entrancing.

Serena never dressed like this.

On one hand, he found it amusing that he almost felt the impulse to uncover the suit and see if it really was Serena.

On the other, relief that it wasn’t.

Exiting the bar, Adrian Lockwood exhaled deeply.

The next moment, his eyes froze.

"Why are you here?"

A few steps away was Chloe Lynch, just out of a taxi.

Adrian Lockwood’s brow twitched, "Who told you to come? Did you leave Miles alone at home?"

"I checked when I left, he was sleeping soundly, nothing will..." happen.

Facing Adrian Lockwood’s almost murderous glare, Chloe Lynch’s unfinished words stuck in her throat.

Boom!!!

The Mercedes roared away.

Ran through two red lights, the car stopped.

Even beyond the villa doors, one could hear the harrowing cries inside.

Chloe Lynch’s face changed drastically, not daring to look at Adrian’s expression, she rushed into the villa.

Bang!

Adrian slammed the car door and followed inside.

The living room was pitch black.

Miles Lockwood stood barefoot in front of the coffee table, his face stained with tears, "Mommy, I want mommy..."

His voice hoarse, not knowing how long he’d been crying.

"Miles, don’t cry, Chloe is here."

Chloe Lynch reached out to pull Miles Lockwood, but he pushed her away, "I don’t want you, I want mommy, I want mommy..."

The simmering anger suddenly extinguished.

Adrian Lockwood stepped forward, bent down to pick up Miles, and walked straight to the nursery, shutting the door with a bang.

The living room quieted down.

Chloe Lynch stood dazed.

Why?

Why is everything so different from what she imagined?

Adrian Lockwood loves her.

Miles Lockwood relies on her.

She came to replace Serena Sinclair as Mrs. Lockwood.

But after so long, Adrian Lockwood’s care and love for her hasn’t even surpassed before their divorce.

Miles Lockwood too.

On his birthday, he said he hoped she’d be his new mommy.

How long has it been?

No.

She cannot sit idly by.

Adrian Lockwood is hers.

Mrs. Lockwood must be hers too.

Glaring towards the nursery, Chloe Lynch stood rigidly for a long time before heading upstairs.

In the nursery, Miles was already asleep.

Half-turning, nestled against Adrian, Miles held on to the corner of his shirt.

A splitting headache.

As if those bass rhythms still echoed in his ears.

But Adrian Lockwood’s heart was calm.

It wasn’t like this before.

Regardless of the time, whenever he returned home, it was peaceful, comfortable.

The air wafted with a faint fruit scent.

Everything was tidy and clean.

Even Miles was always lively, cheerful, laughing and joking.

He had hardly ever heard him cry like he did tonight.

No.

He had heard it.

In numerous midnight dreams, he’d heard it.

But the cries were fleeting, disappearing before he was fully awake.

The villa, like a serene, wandering ocean, let him stay at the deep blue seabed with dreamless nights.

Home was still there.

He and his son were still there.

Nothing changed.

The only thing that changed was Serena.

She didn’t want them, didn’t want this home anymore!

The tumult receded, his mind grew quiet.

Images flooded in of Serena’s cold expression as she opened the door: "You can leave now!"

Gently patting Miles.

Adrian Lockwood fell into deep sleep amidst his anger and resentment.

Buzz!

The password lock clicked open, and when Wyatt Hawthorne entered with Serena Sinclair, she was already fast asleep.

She gave him all her weight.

Yet she seemed weightless.

Effortlessly, he carried her in, walked into the master bedroom, and laid her on the bed.

Standing upright, Wyatt felt as if his feet were stuck in glue.

Bound, unable to take a step away.

"Serena?"

Neon lights spilled through the window, highlighting Serena’s face intermittently.

A bit muddled, she responded, "Mm?"

Wyatt sat by the bed, his thumb brushing over her lips, "Will you remember me when you wake up tomorrow?"

"Mm."

Serena nodded.

Without opening her eyes, she lifted her hand.

Her thumb and forefinger pinched out a tiny space, "I only drank, this little bit..."

You better remember what you said!

Thinking angrily, Wyatt got up to leave.

But the thin fragrance lingering like hooks ensnared his heart.

Stopping near the door.

Wyatt suddenly turned back.

Walked to the bedside, propped up on one hand, and kissed her.

The air felt thin.

But the fierce, hot kiss seemed to ignite the heat within.

A hand gripped his collar.

Serena tilted her head to return the kiss.