After heaving a deep sigh, Angelina knocked on the door several times.
"Charles, I've told you that Nancy is not good enough for you. Forget about her. You already have Dorothy.
Come on, Charles! Come out and have dinner!" Worry was coated on her voice as she cautiously said those words. She had never seen her son act up like this—at least not because of a woman. Surely, Nancy had so much effect on him to behave like this.
"Charles, you run the whole group. How could you just sulk there and do nothing when the company needs you?"
Desperate, Angelina tried using her son's responsibility as a bait to lure him out, but Charles neither answered nor open the door.
So, realizing that she was utterly defeated, she just went downstairs and waited for Dorothy to arrive. She thought that the latter might be of help. After all, the two had a past that couldn't be plunged down the drain.
"Dorothy, please talk to Charles. He hasn't eaten anything all day. Maybe, he'll listen to you." Angelina might be a stern and strict woman, but she was still a mother. And seeing her son like mope like that, she was almost on the verge of tears.
"Okay, Aunt Angelina," Dorothy obediently said before gracefully walking to Charles' room. Then, raising her hand, she knocked at the door. "Charles, I bought your favorite chicken and codfish. Come out and eat some."
She sounded inviting, but Charles still kept silent.
"Charles, what's wrong with you?" she asked again. Although Dorothy was worried about him, she couldn't help flashing a sly smile. She was elated that her plan went smoothly.
Now that Charles was really acting out, she thought that he must be utterly disappointed at Nancy.
Excellent! He should know just how great she was now.
But even after she waited outside for a while, Charles still seemed unbothered.
'What should I do?' she thought, sighing anxiously as she stared on the knob. For a while, she stayed outside his room, contemplating whether she should barge in or not. In the end, Dorothy chose to go downstairs instead.
"Auntie, he needs someone to comfort him. If he stays alone, he may get depressed. What should we do?" Distress could be extracted in her voice as she approached Angelina. Just like the latter, she felt utterly defeated in her attempt to knock some sense into Charles.
”1 have an idea!" Signaling Dorothy to come closer, Angelina suggested something in a low voice.
After hearing it out, the former excitingly flashed a wide grin, obviously agreeing.
So, later that night, Dorothy put on a sheer silk lingerie.
Charles might not come out to eat, but he still needed to drink water.
With a bottle, Dorothy waited for Charles to open the door while sporting a seductive set of nighties.
Meanwhile, Charles remained locked up in his room. The darkly lit room only emphasized his brooding face and furrowed brows, showcasing how annoyed he was.
He had asked his men to delete all the news about
Nancy and Ethan, but the pictures were still clearly etched on his mind.
The news might have stirred clear, but he knew clearly what would happen when a man and a woman stayed in a room together.
And aware of that possibility, Charles was even more irritated, as evidenced by the grim expression he was sporting.
To calm himself down, he drank up the red wine in the goblet. But the liquid didn't seem to be much of help. Instead, he was even more irked, and it was slowly eating him up.
So he picked up all the wine bottles he had consumed and threw them into the bin. Then, he stood up and opened the door to get some water to drink.
All those alcohols had dehydrated him, and he needed water.
The moment he twitched the knob and pulled the door open, he was surprised to see Dorothy walking up to him. But even with her presence, Charles didn't seem to cheer up. Instead, he frowned unpleasantly, thinking that he had no time and energy to talk to her.
"Are you looking for water? I just picked it up. Do you want a bottle of water?" With two bottles in her hands, Dorothy handed one to him.
Without thinking twice, he snatched a bottle, opened it, and gulped the water.
And while he was occupied hydrating himself, Dorothy took the opportunity to glide herself inside his room.
After all, she had waited for hours for him to open it.
"Oh, it's in a mess in here!" she exclaimed coquettishly. The sheets were disheveled, things cluttered on the ground, and the room was filled with the unpleasant smell of cigarettes and wine.
She couldn't believe that this was Charles' room if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.
He was a clean freak, and as an obnoxiously tidy person, he wouldn't allow any mess in his own space.
"You don't have to clean it. You can go now," he said impatiently, evidently dismissing Dorothy out of his room.
"I'll clean these cigarette butts for you before leaving," she responded, bending over to take a vacuum cleaner.
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