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

up now, or do you wish to sleep a bit longer? It's 8:30 in

of panic under his intense gaze, unsure

and grasped

pull away, but Connor's grip was as tight as a

Connor!" Her voice

strong pull, Connor drew Camila

she fell next to

her

either side of her, his eyes narrowing as he stared

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

frightened by

struggled to sit up, but Connor's hands held her shoulders down,

Camila's voice shook, panic rising within her

her. Instead, he pressed down even more

leaned closer, his breath lightly

her

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