Charlotte's confidence stemmed from her innocence. Her voice, cool and detached, cut through the air, "How can you call yourself a CEO when you can't even stand up for your employees against mistreatment? Where's your dignity?" At that moment, her mind was strikingly clear. "Why do you keep misunderstanding me? Am I just a dog on a leash to you?"

Liam's face turned an ashen hue, "Say that again, Charlotte."

"How many times do I have to say this? You holler for me when you're up for some fun, and then you just ditch me when you're done."

The more Charlotte spoke, the more liberated she felt, "Don't think that just because I have feelings for you, you have the right to humiliate me. I may like you, but I am neither a criminal nor your servant!"

Her words seemed to soften Liam's furrowed brow momentarily, but the creases quickly returned.

He was convinced she was deceiving him, that her heartfelt confession was just another lie.

"Charlotte," he said, grasping her flailing hand, "you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk!" How could she be, without a drop of alcohol?

Though her head did feel oddly heavy.

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte composed herself, head bowed.

Then, abruptly, she jerked her head up, yanked Liam by the collar, and planted a fierce kiss on his lips.

Liam's eyes widened in disbelief at the unfolding scene.

He tried to pull her away, but she clung on with a surprising ferocity, biting and gnawing at his face and neck like a wild animal.

"Charlotte," Liam heard his own gulp, clear and loud.

At that, Charlotte paused, her eyes, wet and fiery, locking with his.

She didn't give him the chance to speak, "You're my boss, you want me to leave and reflect? Then I'll go."

With those final words, she strode to the garden of the restaurant, standing rigidly in the corner against the wall.

Her strange behavior left Liam agitated and her defiance made him seethe.

Just then, Chloe came calling for him; filled with brooding anger, Liam cast one last glare at the garden and stormed away.

The night was deep, the wind cool.

After standing in the garden for a while, Charlotte's mind clouded again. It took several attempts to unlock her phone.

With a fever raging, she had no recollection of her actions, nor any clarity of her current doings.

Struggling to keep her eyes open, she started to text, pouring out her grievances.

She hadn't tried to seduce Malcolm.

Message after message, she eventually lost track of how many she sent.

She only knew Liam hadn't replied to a single one.

The last shred of her rationality compelled her to hail a car back to the hotel despite her illness.

With Liam away on business, and the family doctor in tow, she knew she was probably feverish and wanted to get some fever-reducing medicine, hoping to rest and return to work the next day. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Perry, Miss Beaumont's dog happens to be ill too, and all the medicine has to be prioritized for the dog. Miss Beaumont has expressly forbidden it to be shared with others." "Chloe's dog?" Is that the same Samoyed that turned into a live wire the second it boarded the plane, bouncing around with endless energy?

What kind of sickness could the dog possibly have that would require it to gobble up medicine meant for humans?

But of course, it was nothing more than a convenient excuse.

Chloe knew full well she was under the weather and took the opportunity to twist the knife.

Without fuss, she rang the hotel reception, hoping they would send up some medication, only to be rejected again.

Naturally, this was Chloe's empire, and her employees were nothing if not loyal to a fault.

In a daze, Charlotte collapsed beside the bed, and before succumbing to unconsciousness, she didn't forget to pull the blanket over herself.

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Yet, in the middle of the night, she was cruelly awakened by the heat of her own fever.

Her throat parched like a desert, her head pounding as if a marching band played inside, she saw stars swirling before her eyes.

At this rate, she feared the fever might claim her life.

Frantically searching for her phone and finding it nowhere, Charlotte couldn't afford to waste another second and instinctively knocked on the door of the nearest room. "Click "

The door swung open, revealing Liam's indifferent face.

"Charlotte, what's the commotion now?"

"I've got a fever. I need some medicine."

She clutched at his shirt, desperate, as if her life depended on holding him there.

In Chloe's territory, if Liam didn't care for her, she might as well wait silently for death.

Only then did Liam notice the startling heat of her hand, "Why didn't you mention you had a fever sooner?"

"I did... didn't I? Doesn't matter, you wouldn't have cared anyway," Charlotte spoke, barely holding onto consciousness.

Trembling with fever, she softly aired her grievances, "I didn't flirt with Malcolm. He's old, ugly, and vile, why would I ever do that?"

"It was Chloe who painted me single, claiming I'd sleep with anyone for a few hundred thousand. He offered me three million for one night, and I turned him down."

Her fingers lightly touched his face, her eyes filled with a delirious intensity, "I don't like him. Just his mere approach repulses me, but you're different. I like you, even if you give me nothing in return." "You're out of your mind with fever," Liam uttered hoarsely.

"Perhaps I really am delirious, otherwise why would you look at me with such eyes?" Charlotte said with a bitter smile as she caressed his face, "Usually, you look at me with disdain."

Weakened beyond measure, Charlotte slowly slumped into his arms, savoring his unexpected tenderness for the moment.

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! "Liam, don't look at me with such coldness; it breaks my heart."

Her fingers tensed unconsciously, drawing the feverish body close. Liam gazed down, his emotions a whirlwind of conflict.

Even in her delirious state, she weaved lies about her affection for him.

Taking a deep breath, Liam carried her to his room, tucking her into the bed with care.

He dialed their doctor, who awoke with a grumble, "I've told you, the medicine is reserved for Miss Beaumont's dog. Can't you stop being a nuisance, Charlotte? It's just a fever; it's not like it's going to kill you." "What did you just say?"

The deep, stern tone jolted the doctor awake, "L... Mr. Parker!"

"The medicine's for Chloe's dog?"

"Yes... Miss Beaumont insisted! If Miss Perry asks, we're to say we have none!" The doctor confessed in fright.

Liam's grip on the phone tightened, his anger barely contained.

"If you're so keen on following her orders, maybe you should dedicate your life to serving her." holds this content.

"No, no, no! I'm sorry, Mr. Parker! I was wrong!" The doctor pleaded, but it was too late. Within five minutes, two solemn bodyguards dragged the doctor out of the hotel, disappearing into the night. After dealing with the betrayal, Liam's gaze returned to the woman in bed.

Approaching, he looked down from his towering height. She was curled up in pain, her forehead beaded with sweat that matted her hair to her flushed cheeks, an image of vulnerable beauty. "Liam."

Suddenly, she reached out and clutched his pants, dragging herself to the edge of the bed with great effort. Clinging to him like a drowning person finding a lifeline, she nuzzled against his leg. "I'm really sick; I might die."

In a soft whisper, she confessed, "If I die, there'll be no one left to love you like I do."