CHAPTER 85: CHAPTER 85: MASON RIVERS WAS WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING

The phone rang a few times, but no one answered.

Declan Hawthorne stubbornly waited for the mechanical female voice to start the voicemail.

He hung up, then called again.

No one ever picked up.

The alcohol was getting to him, making his thoughts chaotic.

After becoming an adult, Declan Hawthorne rarely got drunk. He always thought of himself as restrained, sober, rational, and objective.

Yet every time he encountered Poppy Hale, he became like the ice cubes added to a glass of liquor.

Invisible, melting away with body heat and time.

Declan Hawthorne tilted his head back and took a large gulp of alcohol.

The cold liquid went down his throat, the alcohol buzzed, and a painful sensation throbbed at his temples.

No idea how much he’d drunk, the man’s voice was hoarse, as if talking to himself.

"She doesn’t like me now."

Allen Shaw had never seen Declan Hawthorne like this.

When wasn’t he the favored son of heaven, looking down on everyone?

When they were kids playing in the military compound, Declan Hawthorne was always the general, and Allen Shaw along with Owen Donovan were his little followers.

At this moment, the bar’s neon lights were brilliant, casting colorful reflections on Declan Hawthorne’s face.

His eyes were dark.

His expression wasn’t clear.

Yet, he seemed desolate.

Seeing this, Allen Shaw felt a pang of ache, yet was puzzled.

"Does it have to be her? You don’t lack women, do you? I’ll introduce you to a few another day."

Declan Hawthorne tilted his head back to finish his drink.

"The women you introduce are interested in the ’Hawthorne’ of Declan Hawthorne."

Allen Shaw held the wine glass, frowning, "What’s the difference? Marriage is a matter between two families."

People from their kind of family were all born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

Family background was always the most important trade-off in marriage, even more than looks or character. As for feelings, if they exist, they are an added bonus; if not, it’s understandable.

The man beside him stayed silent for a moment.

Allen Shaw continued, "She doesn’t like you now, so make her like you."

Declan Hawthorne didn’t reply.

He ordered several more strong drinks and downed them all.

-

It was late at night.

Poppy Hale was a light sleeper, and even a slight movement from Florence Lynch beside her would wake her.

She opened her eyes to tuck Florence in.

Suddenly, she heard someone at the door trying to unlock it with keys.

When she moved in, she had changed the lock.

She spent a considerable time re-installing the video doorbell from her previous home.

To prevent unnecessary disputes with the neighbors about getting filmed, she had positioned the doorbell discreetly at the door, showing only the activity at Poppy Hale’s entrance.

Poppy Hale’s sleepiness vanished.

She broke out in a cold sweat out of shock.

She opened her phone to access the surveillance app and saw a familiar man at the door.

It was Declan Hawthorne.

Why was he, in the middle of the night, trying to open her door?

Poppy Hale got out of bed, put on a coat, and went to open the door.

The door was opened a crack, and Allen Shaw was supporting a tongue-tied Declan Hawthorne, "He insists he lives here, I’ve brought him here, do me a favor and take care of him, I’m off."

He had also drunk quite a bit and was feeling terribly dizzy.

At the moment he saw Poppy Hale, Allen Shaw understood why Declan Hawthorne insisted on coming here.

How dare he claim this was his home.

He was treating someone else’s home as his own.

The designated driver was still waiting in the basement garage.

Allen Shaw quickly left.

Before Poppy Hale could reach out, the man collapsed in front of her.

She quickly raised her hand, but was pulled into his arms and brought inside.

The security door closed with a click behind them. His body heat was somewhat scorching, making Poppy Hale instinctively push him away.

Declan Hawthorne’s back hit the security door lock, and he let out a muffled groan, frowning.

Poppy Hale dared not move. She was stunned for a moment and was pulled over by him and tightly embraced.

The smell of alcohol lingered around. It wasn’t too unpleasant, and his grip tightened.

He even nuzzled Poppy Hale’s face.

This action confirmed to Poppy Hale that he was indeed drunk.

"From now on, leave the key in the security door lock when you’re home, then no one can enter."

Poppy Hale: "..."

If he hadn’t tried to open her door, she wouldn’t have been frightened awake.

"Why did you come here?"

"You didn’t pick up my calls."

His voice sounded like a complaint, mixed with grievance.

Poppy Hale was a light sleeper; a phone call would easily wake her, and once awake, she would have trouble falling back to sleep. She had only set her mother’s calls to come through anytime, in case there was an emergency at the hospital that she might miss.

All other calls were on silent mode.

Poppy Hale wanted to push him away.

Yet drunk men, especially, tend to possess immense strength.

With arms like iron clamps, he imprisoned her, allowing no chance for chaos.

His embrace was too tight, and all his scent enveloped her face, while the sounds of heartbeats and pulses in the night felt like a symphony.

Poppy Hale sighed.

Arguing with a drunk was pointless.

"What did you call me for?"

It couldn’t be him asking her to return for overtime in the dead of night.

Declan Hawthorne paused and didn’t speak. Just when Poppy thought he might have dozed off, he turned his head and bit her sensitive, delicate earlobe.

The electrifying sensation made Poppy Hale’s whole body go numb.

He murmured, "I wanted to tell you something important."

"Mason Rivers was wrong; he has ulterior motives and doesn’t want us to be well."

His words afterwards became somewhat garbled.

Poppy Hale couldn’t quite catch it and was about to ask what he was talking about.

As her head turned, the man’s fiery, alcohol-tinged kiss descended from above.

The action of his lips was gentle, yet his hold was firm, leaving Poppy Hale without the strength to struggle.

The wall clock showed that it was four o’clock in Arvum, the moon high in the sky outside the window.

The moonlight spilling into the living room didn’t reach the hallway.

In the darkness of the hallway, the sound of their breaths and erratic breathing was even more pronounced.

Poppy Hale felt her whole body weaken under his kiss, and as she lifted her knee to kick him, the man seemed to anticipate her move, turning to press her against the door.

"Declan Hawthorne... Did you drink too much?"

He had drunk quite a lot.

Drunk, yet sober.

His hand slipped under Poppy Hale’s nightshirt.

When sleeping at night, no woman wears a bra.

The coat she had worn to open the door was unknowingly removed and tossed aside.

Feeling the warmth of his palm, Poppy Hale’s face became scorching hot.

She also felt an even greater warmth.

Isn’t it said that men who drink a lot don’t react?

From the room came the soft sound of a little girl murmuring.

Along with calling her mother.

Both snapped back to reality from the chaos.

Seizing this moment, Poppy Hale pushed Declan Hawthorne away.

The man’s back hit the wall, but she didn’t notice, rushing into the bedroom with her clothes in disarray.

In the room, Florence Lynch hadn’t fully woken up.

She probably just wanted to find her mom.

Poppy Hale closed the bedroom door behind her and locked it.

Finally lying down, she patted Florence’s back to lull her back to sleep while calming her own breathing.

Her nightshirt was like a crumpled mess now.

The marks on her chest were so clear they were visible even without the lights on.

Declan Hawthorne must have been really drunk.

If it wasn’t for Florence’s voice just now.

Everyone knew what might have happened next.

Poppy Hale pulled the covers over her face.

She heard the security door being opened and then closed again.

She let out a slight sigh of relief.

Given his intense reaction just now, she guessed he wasn’t too drunk.

Poppy Hale had lost all drowsiness and checked her phone.

There were twenty missed calls.

All from Declan Hawthorne.