Come Into My Arms novel Chapter 374

The shopkeeper looked at Amelia with a smile. Her sweet smile was contagious.

Just as Amelia was about to say goodbye to him, her cell phone suddenly rang in her pocket. She glanced at the shopkeeper and said, "Sorry, would you take the cake for me, please? I need to answer the phone."

"No problem." The shopkeeper agreed.

After freeing her hands, Amelia hurried to take out her mobile phone. When she saw Cynthia's name, her eyes jumped. She rejected it by instinct.

After thinking for a while, she put it through. "Hey, it's me. What's up?"

Out of Amelia's expectation, this time Cynthia didn't address her by her title in a hypocritical way she had. Instead, Cynthia called her name directly, "Amelia, Patrick is now at a hotel. He wants to see you. Come and pick him up."

Amelia almost blacked out. She asked blankly, "Cynthia, I don't understand what you mean..."

"You don't understand? You'll understand when you come! I've already told you the address just now. If you don't come, I promise you'll regret it for the rest of your life!" With that, Cynthia hung up the phone.

Noting Amelia's pale face, the shopkeeper holding the cake couldn't help asking, "Miss Ramsay, are you okay?"

Hearing his voice, Amelia looked at the cake in his hand. This was a birthday gift carefully prepared for Patrick, and now it was such a joke. She took it over slowly and left the cake shop.

There was a trash bucket near the cake shop. When Amelia passed by, she threw the cake into it without hesitation.

She got back to the car, unable to forget Cynthia's words. Amelia fretfully hit the steering wheel a few times. She didn't want to pay attention to that godd*mn man and woman who had gotten a room at the hotel, but could she really ignore them?

No! Even if she knew it would be a disaster, as long as Patrick was there, she would have to go even though she was heartbroken!

At the five-star hotel.

"Mrs. Hopper..." Patrick was almost unconscious. His body was feverish, but he wrapped himself up tightly with a quilt, minimizing the possibility of having physical contact with Cynthia.

Cynthia had already given up the idea of sleeping with Patrick, but she couldn't bear to see his hands bleeding. Many times, she had tried to approach him to stop the bleeding, only to find herself thwarted by his murmur of "you are not her".

Feeling frustrated, Cynthia knelt on the bed and looked at him with tears welling in pain. "If you don't love her, why do you, such an excellent man, have to restrain yourself for her?"

The bell rang!

Hearing the sound from the door, Cynthia wiped tears off her face and returned to her poker face as she went to open the door for Amelia.

The door opened. Two women stood face to face, looking at each other. It was a battlefield without gunpowder or smoke.

When she saw Cynthia, who was disheveled, Amelia remained her usual noble and cold manner as if she had been mentally prepared. Uninterested in explaining, Cynthia just said, "He is inside, in my bed."

"Oh." Amelia was not as shrewish as Cynthia had imagined. She nodded slightly and walked past her to Patrick.

Cynthia's expression went stiff.

With Amelia's forbearance alone, Cynthia would never be as good as her!

Stopping at the end of the bed, Amelia coldly said to Patrick, "Hey! Get up."

There was no response.

There was faint impatience in her cold gaze. Amelia shook Patrick's shoulders exposed outside the quilt with dislike, only to find that the man was surprisingly hot.