Camila furrowed her brow slightly as her gaze fell onto the coffee table. It was cluttered with an ashtray filled like a miniature mountain and bottles of whiskey carelessly tipped over.

Her heart sank.

"Mr. Connor?" she called out softly, her voice barely a whisper, but received no response.

She glanced toward the door of the lounge.

Hesitating for a moment, she set the breakfast she had brought aside.

She pushed open the lounge door and found Connor lying on the bed, his eyes closed and his complexion pale, a look of exhaustion etched across his features.

Standing by the bedside, Camila felt a pang of sorrow seeing him like this.

She gently nudged Connor's shoulder. "Mr. Connor, it's time to wake up."

Connor didn't react, continuing to lie with his eyes shut.

"Mr. Connor," Camila called again.

Slowly, Connor opened his eyes, his gaze foggy as he stared at Camila.

heart skipped

managed a small smile. "Mr. Connor, David has prepared breakfast for you. Would you like to get up now, or do you wish to sleep a bit

a flutter of panic under his intense

out and grasped Camila's wrist

but Connor's grip was as tight as a

Connor!" Her

drew Camila

cried out as she

her mind

himself on either side of her, his eyes narrowing

lit, and in the shadows, Connor's expression was fierce and

frightened

sit up, but Connor's hands

voice shook, panic

her. Instead, he pressed down even more

breath

she shouted, her

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