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.

skipped

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

his intense

out and

attempting to pull away, but Connor's grip was as tight as

Her

pull, Connor drew Camila down onto

she fell next to

raced, her

himself on either side of her, his eyes narrowing as he stared

shadows, Connor's

felt frightened by his

to sit up, but Connor's

go!" Camila's voice shook, panic rising within

didn't release her. Instead, he pressed

closer, his breath lightly

she shouted, her

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