Chapter 162

Clifford rose and walked toward the door. As he reached it, he turned back to the doctor. "Take care of her."

The doctor just nodded, bewildered.

Clifford left without another look back.

Letting out a long, shuddering breath, the doctor sank back into his chair and cast a pitying glance at the woman lost in a feverish sleep.

Clifford arrived at the club, found the women's restroom, and called Yesenia. A few moments later, she stumbled out, swaying on her feet.

When she saw him, she threw herself into his arms, her eyes blurred with tears. "Clifford, you came. I was so scared. If you hadn't shown up, I don't know what would have happened tonight."

She buried her face in his chest. "I would have been too ashamed to ever face you again. I might as well have just died."

"Don't talk nonsense," Clifford said, scooping her up into his arms. "I'm taking you home."

Yesenia wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice a seductive purr. "Were you scared I might die?"

Clifford glanced down at her. Her makeup was exquisite—bold red lips, a look that was alluring without being vulgar. She looked every bit the siren.

"You shouldn't wear such heavy makeup when you go out at night," was all he said. Yesenia blinked, then buried her face in his chest with a frustrated sigh. Her fingers began to trace patterns on his shirt. "Clifford, I feel so strange."

"Stop that."

"Where's your car?"

He didn't answer, simply carried her to the parking garage and placed her in the back seat. As he turned to leave, she lunged, grabbing his tie and yanking him back down toward her.

"Clifford..." she whispered, her eyes dark and hypnotic, as if they could steal a man's soul.

He watched her, his expression unchanged.

Emboldened, she leaned closer. But in the next second, he seized her wrist, firmly untangling his tie from her grasp.

Panic flared in her eyes. "Clifford!"

He was already standing outside the car, straightening his tie, his gaze a clear warning. “Don't resort to such cheap tricks."

He shut the door and walked around to the driver's seat.

Yesenia was left half-sprawled on the back seat, stunned. How did he know? The producer had shown interest, but he hadn't drugged her. She had done that herself, hoping to use the producer as a scapegoat to finally seduce Clifford She never imagined he would see right through her.

A wave of anger and humiliation washed over her, followed by a deeper, more profound sadness.

en

No one would ever believe it. Clifford spoiled her, held her, played the part of the devoted lover in public. He even stayed over at her place. other women were offered to he'd always refuse, saying his girlfriend would get angry He let her slap, scream at, and chase away any woman who tried to get close. She'd even dared to strike the daughters of prominent families, and Clifford would personally go and apologize on her behalf afterward.

To the outside world, he was utterly devoted to her.

But only Yesenia knew the truth. In all their years together, he had never once touched her. Not once.

She knew he only truly loved himself, but she had never been able to figure out how much, if any, love was left over for her.

The drug, or maybe it was just the alcohol, finally hit her. She collapsed

in the back seat and began to climet

She cried and thrashed.

"Clifford, do you even love me at all?"

"Why are you so cold to me?"

"I hate you! You're a heartless bastard!"

"Falling in love with you was the biggest curse of my life!"

She pounded on the back of his seat, but Clifford remained unmoved, driving

silently, letting her storm rage in the back.

"Say something!" she wailed, her voice thick with desperation. "Do you love me?"