Reclaiming Her Heart

Chapter 1324 I'm Sorry, I Seem to Always Make You Cry Walter raised an eyebrow as he stood and walked to the edge of the small cargo vessel.

Looking down at the figure floating in the water, he smiled slightly. "Well, this is quite the treasure we've fished up. Tell Nathan we've found his man." His crew promptly retrieved Paul from the water. The man was completely unconscious, burning with fever, his wounds festering. He would need extensive medical care.

Having just spoken with Nathan, Walter was in a relatively good mood about this fortunate discovery. Looking at the man lying on the deck, however, his brow furrowed with concern. Without immediate medical attention, Paul wouldn't survive much longer.

"It's ironic," Walter mused. "The Adams family is busy planning his funeral while he's been floating downriver all this time." Walter had no interest in entangling himself in high society's secrets and schemes. "Dock the boat and get a doctor to attend to him," he ordered.

"Walter, shouldn't we send someone to assist him?" one of his men asked.

"This is Paul we're talking about. His friend Raymond blocked one of my shipments recently. The only reason he's not dead is because of my respect for Nathan." The man who had spoken shrank back, not daring to say another word.

They were now quite far from Silver Bay City-about three hundred miles away in a neighboring town. As soon as they docked, Paul was transported to an inconspicuous private residence.

When Nathan received the call, he was genuinely surprised that Paul had survived. After hanging up, he turned to Betty. "Paul is with Walter now, but Walter won't provide him with care. I'll send my people to help." "That won't be necessary," Betty replied. "I'll call Mr. Montague about it." Nathan's expression darkened immediately. Before, Betty hadn't known any of these men, but now she seemed uncomfortably familiar with them.

He watched as she took out her phone and dialed Raymond with practiced ease. Raymond had been anxiously awaiting news, though he hadn't expected it so soon. After a pause he asked. "Besides, vou. Nathan. and Walter does anyone else know about this?" "I don't believe so. Mr. White says Paul has only just been recovered." "Betty, let Ann take care of him," Raymond instructed.

Betty thought she had misheard. Ann? But this was Raymond's directive, so she agreed without question.

As she prepared to leave the White Villa, she approached Nathan, placed her arms around his neck, and gave him a brief kiss on the lips-a calculated gesture of reciprocity.

"I may need to trouble Mr. White again in the future," she said, networking as always. Nathan remained silent, his breathing quickening. His gaze moved from her lips to her neck, then to her legs, his eyes growing increasingly heated.

He swallowed hard, suppressing his desires. "Letdrive you home." Just a heads up: is the only place to read the complete version of this book for free. Don't miss out on the next chapter-visit us now and continue your journey! "No need, Mr. White. Until next time." She released him quickly and stepped away.

Nathan knew her intentions-she was using him, leveraging his power and influence. Yet he couldn't help thinking that she must still care for him; otherwise, why did she choose him to manipulate when she had other options? "Betty..." he called out, suddenly embracing her waist.

Betty had already turned away and tensed at his touch. Recovering quickly, she laughed and asked, "Feeling amorous again?" Nathan held her silently for ten minutes before finally letting go. "In the future, ctowith these matters. Not anyone else." "Of course," she agreed with a smile, taking her purse. "I should go now." She left without hesitation, without a backward glance.

Outside the White Villa, Nathan's staff had brought her car around. She got into the driver's seat and calmly drove away.

Several miles down the road, Betty pulled over and stared blankly ahead. She reached for her cigarettes and lit one, her crimson-painted nails required for her current role -standing out vividly against the lighter.

As she smoked, she leaned back in her seat. If only emotions could be completely withdrawn, like turning off a faucet. But what was done could not be undone.

Nathan was the only man who had ever left a lasting mark on her life. He and many times after was her first, and that, she would lie beneath him, gentle and compliant like a cat.

Perhaps there had been countless moments when she'd questioned whether Nathan was really just a delivery driver. Could a delivery man truly possess such striking features and physique? But the passion he brought was so intoxicating that she had ignored these inconsistencies.

The agony of losing her opportunity to study abroad, the trauma of her injured fingers ers these had made her desperately cling to whatever she could hold onto. So she had clutched at Nathan when he appeared, as if he were a lifeline. Finishing her cigarette, Betty realized her cheeks were wet. She quickly reached for tissues to wipe them dry.

A gentle knock on her window made her look up. Nathan stood outside, offering a handkerchief.

He said softly, "Betty, I'm sorry. It seems I always make you cry." Betty didn't take the handkerchief, feeling as though something inside her had been pierced. She closed the window, saying, "SendPaul's current address. I need to inform Ann." Starting the engine, she pressed the accelerator to the floor without hesitation, speeding away.

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