Evelyn Grant's mind was still barely functioning, but the alcohol had left her eyes looking hazy.
She had beautiful eyes.
When she was sober, they were like a clear spring—as vibrant and lovely as a fawn's. But now, veiled by a hazy mist, they made her look exceptionally docile.
"I'm so sleepy."
A flustered maid stood nearby, wanting several times to reach out in a panic and take Evelyn Grant, but she never found the opportunity. Preston Keaton's voice was calm.
"I'll take her."
He swept her up into his arms with ease. Drunk, Evelyn Grant was exceptionally pliant. She obediently rested her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and curled up into a small ball in his embrace, muttering under her breath.
"Take me home, Leo Lawrence."
The drunken woman had no idea what she'd just said, but the maid clearly felt the atmosphere grow heavy.
No one dared to even breathe.
Preston Keaton's expression remained unchanged, betraying nothing. Only his steps faltered for a fraction of a second. He lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms, his face a mask of calm.
"Who is Leo Lawrence?"
But Evelyn Grant had already fallen asleep, her eyes shut. A faint, drunken blush crept onto her cheeks, making her look all the more captivating.
After June Jacobs slipped away, her heart wouldn't stop pounding.
She felt like a terrible friend for leaving, but she was also worried about Evelyn Grant. She had sent a flurry of messages, none of which had been answered.
Then, she heard a knock on the door.
She let out a sigh of relief and jogged to the door. "You're back! I was so worried about…"
…you.
The last word died in her throat.
Her petite boss was fast asleep in the arms of the tycoon…
And he was carrying her, princess-style… Princess-style…
She was utterly dumbfounded.
'What in the world happened?!'
Preston Keaton gave a slight nod, his tone calm and steady. "She's drunk."
June Jacobs immediately stepped aside to clear a path, her mind reeling. Completely flustered, she stammered, "Her room is the one on the left."
Preston Keaton hummed in acknowledgment. A maid opened the bedroom door, and the faint scent of gardenia drifted out, filling the air.
It was Evelyn Grant's scent.
He gently laid her down on the soft bed, then turned his head to give an order.
"Bring up some sobering soup."
With that, he didn't linger. His gaze swept briefly over the woman on the bed before he gave June Jacobs a nonchalant nod and left.
Refined and aloof, he was like the moon in the sky—bright but unreachable. Every gesture was flawless, impeccably composed.
June Jacobs took a long, deep breath, her mind still completely blank.
—
「The next day.」
When Evelyn Grant woke up, she rubbed her temples and stared blankly for a long moment. Her head throbbed slightly, but she felt much better after a hot shower.
Just then, a knock came at the door. A maid brought in a lavish breakfast.
The moment she stepped out of the bedroom, June Jacobs's eyes were fixed on her. As soon as the maid left, June excitedly grabbed her arm, shaking it back and forth, unable to contain her burning curiosity.
"Do you remember who brought you home last night?"
"It was Mr. Keaton!"
"And he carried you, princess-style! Wow, you have no idea what a shock it was when I opened the door…"
The words finally filled in the gaps in Evelyn Grant's memory.
Her hand, holding a pair of chopsticks, paused for a few seconds. She glanced up, effortlessly changing the subject. "I doubt it was as shocking as when I turned to look for you, only to find you'd already ditched me and run off."
June Jacobs's smile vanished.
After a long pause, she managed to squeeze out, "I'm sorry, okay?"
Evelyn Grant raised an eyebrow. She had a soft spot for people who acted cute with her. "I'm not mad at you."
Her voice softened. "Now, hurry up and eat. We still need to say goodbye to Miss Keaton."
Sophie Keaton had just woken up.
She was very fond of Evelyn Grant and tried to convince her to stay and enjoy Veridia for a few more days. Evelyn smiled, saying she had work to get back to. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I troubled Mr. Keaton last night by having him take care of me. I'd like to thank him personally."
Sophie Keaton couldn't possibly imagine her brother taking care of a woman, so she figured Evelyn was just being polite and didn't think much of it. "He's definitely at the office by now. Don't worry, I'll pass on the message for you."
Evelyn Grant let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
Her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled. "Then I'll have to trouble you, Sophie."
When she smiled, her eyes formed little crescent moons, so vibrant and ethereal that her joy was infectious.
Sophie Keaton sighed to herself.
'Her brother really is a stuffy old fossil,' she thought. 'He intimidated that poor girl so much she visibly relaxed the moment she heard she wouldn't have to thank him in person.'
When the call connected, Preston Keaton had just finished a meeting.
Wyatt Walsh spoke in a low voice, "Sir, Mr. Sterling is here."
Preston Keaton nodded and pushed open the door to the executive office. Inside, Henry Sterling waved him over.
Sophie Keaton's complaint came through the phone's receiver. "It's always work, work, work with you! I haven't seen you in six months, and you can't even stay home to spend some time with me before I leave tomorrow."
He'd lost count of how many times he'd heard this complaint.
Preston Keaton's gaze lowered, his expression tinged with indifference. "Is there anything else?"
"…" Sophie Keaton was momentarily speechless. She pouted, then got to the point. "Evelyn wanted to thank you in person, but you'd already left for the office, so I'm passing on the message for her."
She then mumbled, "She said thanks for taking care of her last night. You, taking care of a woman? Our Evelyn is so polite."
Henry Sterling, who happened to overhear that last part, stared with wide, incredulous eyes.
His gaze fixed on his friend. Preston looked as impassive as ever, but Henry could detect an unusual flicker in his expression.
"Evelyn." Preston Keaton's fingers drummed lightly on the desk, his expression unreadable. "You sound quite familiar with her for a first meeting."
"What's wrong with that? Evelyn is beautiful and has such a pleasant voice. Who wouldn't like her?"
He couldn't hear what was said next from the other end of the line.
But Henry Sterling watched as his friend's lips curled into a faint smile. "Indeed," Preston said, his voice slow and deliberate.
It sounded perfunctory, yet there was a hint of sincerity to it. But for it to be truly sincere… that seemed impossible, given her brother's personality.
In any case, she had conveyed Evelyn's gratitude. Sophie was returning to Eldoria tomorrow and was swamped with things to do, so after a few more words, she hung up.
Watching his friend calmly set down his phone, Henry Sterling lounged back, crossing his legs with a roguish air. He grinned slyly. "Has the old iron tree finally blossomed?"
In all the years he'd known him, he'd never once seen Preston with a woman. Countless high-society heiresses had made their interest known, only to be turned away with a curt, "My apologies."
His complete lack of interest in romance made their whole circle of friends think that God was, indeed, fair. After opening so many windows for a man like him, He was bound to take something back in return.
But today, something seemed different.
He was glad he'd come. He would have died of regret if he'd missed out on such a huge scoop.
A few moments passed before Preston Keaton finally spoke, his voice unhurried. "Got too much time on your hands?"
His eyes were dark and cold, and a faint but palpable pressure seemed to radiate from him.
The atmosphere grew heavy. Henry Sterling, however, didn't press the issue, just gave a knowing smile.
Preston Keaton's lack of denial was an answer in itself.