Feel the Way You Feel, My Love
Chapter 141

Shane became clear-headed at once and shoved her away.

Natalie sprawled on the seat and threw up furiously. Even her clothes were stained.

Within seconds, the pungent smells of the strong alcohol and her vomit filled the car, and that turned Shane off.

The veins on the sides of his forehead popped out. Holding back the urge to throw her out of the car, he rolled down the windows with a sullen face.

A few minutes later, the chilly night air replaced the stench in the car. His expression softened, but he still felt terribly annoyed, and it got worse when he saw that Natalie had fallen into a deep slumber. Even his head was throbbing now.

Soon, they arrived at the condominium.

With a grumpy face, Shane got out of the car and picked Natalie up.

As Silas saw the vomit on the back seat, he held back a sense of repulsion and pointed at the woman. "Mr. Shane, did Ms. Smith throw up?"

Shane hummed curtly. "Hail a cab home yourself."

"Are you staying here tonight, Mr. Shane?"

He nodded faintly, then walked into the building with the woman in his arms.

Staring at his back, Silas shook his head with a sigh.

I can tell that Mr. Shane is really into her. Despite having mysophobia, he doesn't mind at all even when Ms. Smith pukes all over herself. I bet even her fart smells nice to him now.

With Natalie in his arms, Shane came to the front of her condominium, pressing the doorbell with his elbow.

However, no one answered the door.

Aren't the kids at home?

He glanced down at the woman in his arms. Leaning on his chest, she was sleeping soundly, and her lips curled up as if she were having a good dream.

Having no other choice, he turned around and went into his condominium opposite of hers.

Stepping through the door, he put her on a couch, grabbed a bathrobe, and headed to the bathroom.

After his shower, he walked over to the couch, staring at the woman while drying his hair with a towel. He hesitated for a few seconds before picking her up and making his way to the bathroom. He then put her in a bathtub filled with water.

Right when she got into the water, she woke from her sleep. Struggling in the water, she opened her eyes, held the two sides of the bathtub, and sat up. "What's happening?"

In a panic, she checked out her surroundings. The second she saw the man standing beside her, her anxiety ceased.

"Mr. Shane?" She shook her befuddled head. "Where is this? Why am I in a bathtub?"

"This is my condominium. I was the one who put you here. Just to sober you up," the tall man answered impassively while looking down at her.

She massaged her temples to ease the pain. "But why am I here with you? Wasn't I with Stanley just now?"

The way she addressed Stanley sounded irritatingly intimate in Shane's ears. His expression hardened as he asked, "Don't you remember what happened?" "What should I remember?" Natalie splashed some water on her face to refresh herself.

The man folded his arms. "Stanley got you drunk deliberately so that he could have his way with you. That's why I took you away from him."

"That can't be!" She stood up abruptly, spilling water out of the bathroom.

Shane narrowed his eyes at her words. "You don't believe me?"

Looking at the man earnestly, she replied, "Mr. Shane, it's not that I don't believe you, but I don't think that's possible. Stanley and I have been friends for five years already. He isn't that kind of man." Motionless, the man stared squarely at her for a few seconds. He sneered, "Friends for five years? Yet, you can't even tell his true colors. Are you blind?"

A look of contempt flashed across his eyes. Gloominess enveloped him as he stormed out of the bathroom.

She thinks that she knows that man from the inside out only because they've been friends for years. Does she really think that's the case? She's definitely not shrewd enough to discern his secret intention. Well, I've told her the truth. It's up to her whether to believe it.

After he left, Natalie sat back in the bathtub. Staring blankly at the water, she bit her lower lips and spaced out.

Am I blind? No, I'm not. I just refuse to think ill of Stanley. If it wasn't for his help, my family and I would've been long gone when we were overseas. That's why I'll never suspect him.