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 a

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

of panic under his intense gaze, unsure of

and grasped

Connor's grip was as

Her

Connor drew Camila down onto

cried out as she fell next

her

propping himself on either side of her, his

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

frightened by

but Connor's hands held

voice shook, panic rising within her

release her. Instead, he pressed down

his breath lightly brushing

her

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