The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

Leila Jennings’s mind was sluggish. She blinked slowly before saying, "No."

The hot soup from the table dripped onto the floor, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, forming a small puddle.

Nathaniel Cole was glad he’d moved fast enough. Otherwise, it would have scalded Leila Jennings’s legs.

"President Cole..." Leila Jennings’s lips parted slightly.

The man turned his head to look at her, letting out a magnetic "Hm?"

Their noses brushed against each other again, and a jolt, like an electric shock, made Leila Jennings’s body tremble slightly.

"You can put me down now," she said in a small voice, her words tinged with the faint scent of alcohol.

For Nathaniel Cole, champagne itself wasn’t intoxicating, but the smell of alcohol wafting from Leila Jennings was almost enough to make him lose himself.

He hesitated for a long moment before finally setting her down.

After chugging a mouthful of water, he turned around to see Leila Jennings with a box of tissues, starting to wipe up the soup spilled all over the table.

’Can’t take my eyes off her for a second before she starts doing chores again.’

Nathaniel Cole grabbed her wrist, his voice deepening. "Don’t move."

"It’s dirty. It needs to be wiped," Leila Jennings said, her speech also slowing down. She swayed slightly on her feet.

Nathaniel Cole stood by her side, gripping her wrist tightly. It was so, so slender, it felt like he was touching bone.

Afraid of hurting her, he loosened his grip slightly.

Leila Jennings found one of her hands restrained, but the other was free, so she started reaching for the tissues again.

Exasperated, Nathaniel Cole once again used his tie to bind Leila Jennings’s hands, then led her, stumbling, over to the sofa and pushed her down to sit.

He picked up his phone.

"Miss Moss, come to No. 9 Norsen."

After hanging up, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and looked down at Leila Jennings, who was sitting obediently on the sofa, her gaze distant, lost in her own world.

"Leila Jennings?" Nathaniel Cole called out her name, but she didn’t answer right away.

He reached a hand toward her.

Leila Jennings suddenly opened her mouth and bit his hand.

"Hiss." Nathaniel Cole winced in pain. His hand was really going through a lot today. His knuckles were already scraped, and now the flesh at the base of his thumb was being bitten.

’Her teeth are pretty sharp.’

The corner of Nathaniel Cole’s mouth twitched up as he tried to pull his hand away.

Leila Jennings, as if she’d found something delicious, kept nibbling on it, refusing to let go.

She even mumbled a word indistinctly, "Pan-fried cake..."

"What?" Nathaniel Cole couldn’t hear her clearly. He leaned in closer. "Say that again."

Miss Moss, who had rushed over from No. 1, arrived just in time to see the intimate scene between the two.

"Oh, my!" Miss Moss immediately spun around, muttering, ’See no evil, see no evil.’

’In a domineering-president romance, if I interrupt the young master’s "good time," he’s definitely going to yell at me.’

"Miss Moss."

’Here it comes, here it comes!’

’The young master is about to get angry!’

"Go clean up the dining room."

"Huh?" Miss Moss turned back around and finally saw the real situation: Miss Jennings was biting the young master’s hand.

’They weren’t being intimate at all.’

’Young Master, are you even capable?’

Facing the trace of disdain in Miss Moss’s eyes, Nathaniel Cole took a deep breath and shot her a dark look.

"Miss Moss."

"Yes, Young Master, I’m going right now." Miss Moss went to the dining room to clear the table and clean up, her eyes flicking toward the sofa from time to time.

She watched as the Cole Family’s famously cold and heartless young master knelt on one knee in front of Miss Jennings and said fiercely, "That’s enough, Leila Jennings. Let go."

But he showed no intention of yanking his hand away forcefully.

Miss Moss took out her phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Ms. Neville with a whispered report: "Ms. Neville, it’s incredible! The young master is finally getting it."

She looked up again.

The young master was holding Miss Jennings’s chin with one hand, forcing her to open her mouth and tilt her head back.

Miss Moss quickly added another message: "But not by much."

She pocketed her phone and continued cleaning.

When she finished and went over, the young master was using a tissue to wipe saliva off the back of his hand, where a row of teeth marks was imprinted.

Miss Jennings had already fallen asleep on the sofa.

"Young Master, it’s all cleaned up," Miss Moss said, lowering her voice.

Nathaniel Cole grunted in acknowledgment. "From now on, you’ll stay here to take care of Leila Jennings’s daily needs."

"Yes, Young Master!" Miss Moss stood ramrod straight, like a soldier receiving an order.

Nathaniel Cole was a bit speechless. His mother was a well-read, gentle, and amiable woman who was only occasionally infuriating, but for some reason, all the housekeepers she trained were incredibly eccentric.

And she always assigned the most eccentric ones to him.

Nathaniel Cole looked at Leila Jennings, curled up on the sofa with her wrists still bound, and frowned slightly.

’She looks so restless in her sleep.’

"Don’t let her do any housework."

"Don’t you worry, Young Master. With me here, Miss Jennings’s hands will never be used for such menial labor."

"If she does any housework again, you can pack your bags and leave the Cole Family."

Miss Moss raised her hand and made an OK sign.

"Young Master, you can’t let Miss Jennings sleep on the sofa, she’ll catch a cold," she said with a wide grin. "You should carry her upstairs."

"Mm." Nathaniel Cole bent down, gathered her into his arms, and even gave her a little bounce.

’She’s too light.’

’That animal, Sean Sinclair.’

"Take good care of her three meals a day."

"Yes, I’ll prepare a nutrition plan for your review tomorrow, Young Master."

Nathaniel Cole carried Leila Jennings upstairs. He assumed she would be sleeping in the master bedroom, but found it empty.

She was staying in the guest room.

Zachary had already found out that this apartment was registered under Missie Jarvis’s name.

Nathaniel Cole looked at the peacefully sleeping Leila Jennings in his arms, gently placed her on the bed, and pulled the covers over her.

"Sean Sinclair..."

A mumble escaped Leila Jennings’s lips.

Nathaniel Cole frowned. Seeing her about to open her mouth again, he covered it with his hand and hissed, "If you don’t know how to talk, then shut up."

He pulled the covers all the way over Leila Jennings’s head, as if venting his frustration.

But just as quickly, he yanked the covers back down, revealing her head.

The man turned off the light and left.

Just as the door clicked shut, a complete sentence came from Leila Jennings’s lips: "Sean Sinclair, get the hell out..."

...

Cherry Cole’s little bistro was called RELAX.

Simple and blunt.

As she walked in, she saw the manager apologizing to a drunk customer.

The manager saw Cherry Cole and immediately came over to greet her.

"What’s going on?"

"A drunk customer accidentally bumped into a waiter and insisted the waiter did it on purpose. He kept demanding an apology. We apologized, but he wasn’t satisfied and started clamoring to see you."

Cherry Cole walked over.

The drunk customer frowned. "You’re the owner here? A young girl like you? You’re not trying to fool me, are you?"

"I’m not. I’ll compensate you for the full price of your clothes that were soiled in our establishment, and your entire bill for tonight is on the house." Cherry Cole could tell at a glance that the man was deliberately looking for trouble, and she trusted that her employee hadn’t done it on purpose.

Her bistro was in a university town, frequented mostly by students. Adhering to the principle of "less trouble is better than more," she made the offer to comp his bill.

The drunk man was taken aback for a moment.

"For real? In that case, put everyone’s tab on me tonight, and you can comp the whole thing."

"Done." Cherry Cole hadn’t opened the bistro to make a profit anyway; she purely wanted a place for herself to relax. Nightclubs were too loud, and other bars weren’t necessarily safe.

The man was stunned again. It seemed he couldn’t find any more reasons to be angry, so he silently sat back down.

After dealing with the incident, Cherry Cole decided to head back to Norsen anyway. ’What if my brother’s animal instincts take over!’

’My best friend’s honor is more important than my own brother!’

Cherry Cole drove away.

From the shadows, a Bentley’s headlights flicked on.

Sean Sinclair sat in the back seat and ordered the driver, "Follow her."