The CEO's Empathy Pregnancy Pains
Chapter 67 Is There No Other Way?

"Emily, Emily." Suddenly, a soft hand wrapped around him from behind, making the heat in his body spike. He spun around and grabbed her, desperately searching for her lips.

He was a bit dazed, but just as he was about to kiss her, a wave of nausea hit him hard. Overwhelmed by the drug, he stumbled back and ended up puking all over Sophia.

Sophia froze, while Michael, still out of it, mumbled, "I'm sorry, Emily. Why'd you throw up again?"

The nausea hit him even harder, and he kept throwing up, spewing the red wine he'd drunk earlier all over Sophia.

Sophia, in her light spaghetti strap dress, looked beyond miserable. She stood there, stiff, covered in vomit, and reeking. She wished she could just disappear; she'd never been so humiliated. She screamed hysterically. Michael snapped out of it when he heard Sophia's voice and asked, "You're not Emily?"

Sophia was too freaked out to answer. She bolted to the bathroom, fighting her own nausea, ripped off her clothes, and tossed them in the trash. She locked herself in, staring at her reflection in the mirror, looking like a mess. How did it all go so wrong?

She'd planned everything perfectly. Michael just needed to drink that wine, then they would hook up, and as long as she kept quiet, he wouldn't know. The next day, she'd cry and accuse him of forcing her. Her plan was foolproof. But why did Michael have to puke on her at the critical moment? Was there something wrong with the drug? What went wrong? Staring at her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, she felt a mix of rage and frustration towards Michael. When Sophia finally cleaned up and came out, Michael was gone. The door was wide open.

But Michael, still under the drug's influence, couldn't have gone far. She quickly changed into spare clothes and ran out. But then she remembered the surveillance cameras and knew Michael would replace out tomorrow, so she went back inside. She called someone to cut the power to the cameras, finally feeling a bit relieved before leaving.

Michael knew the woman earlier wasn't Emily. And he sobered up a bit because he'd puked up half the wine. But the heat in his body was still there. After searching and not replaceing Emily, he called her, "Where are you?"

Emily, looking pale and weak from vomiting, replied, "I already took a cab home."

Michael, frustrated, asked, "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Emily, holding back her anger, shot back, "Why should I wait for you?" Then she hung up.

Michael, gritting his teeth, glared at his phone and muttered, "Fine, Emily, you used me and then ditched me, huh?" Today, he'd make sure Emily understood the consequences of messing with him. He sped off to Emerald Lake Manor. Because Michael had bought "Lucky," Emily was in a great mood. She had just finished her bath when Michael showed up. He pulled her into his arms, and before Emily could even figure out who it was, Michael's lips were already on hers. Emily felt a weird sense of familiarity. She pushed Michael away hard, noticing he was not only filthy but also stank.

Emily asked, "What happened to you? What's all this on you?"

Michael looked down at the mess and wine stains on his suit jacket, almost losing it. He knew he'd drunk something nasty and had puked. He said, "Emily, you're dead. I'll deal with you later."

Michael then stormed into the bathroom, yelling, "Get me some pajamas."

This time, it was Michael demanding clothes from her. Emily shouted angrily from outside, "Why are you using my bathroom? Get out!"

Michael didn't respond and had already turned on the shower. Emily, frustrated, stomped her foot and went to the master bedroom to get him some clothes.

When Michael came out after his shower, he felt a lot better. Having puked out the junk and taken a cold shower, he was much clearer-headed.

Michael looked at Emily, almost losing his temper again. He coldly asked, "What happened tonight? Why did you throw up again?"

Emily, puzzled, looked at him and said, "How do you always know when I throw up? I didn't come back with you."

Earlier at the event, Emily had felt nauseous and suffocated. The air in the car she and Abigail took was bad, so halfway through the ride, she couldn't help but open the door and vomit by the roadside. Emily had been too tired out to care about why Michael broke his word.

Michael had promised to take her home tonight. But she and Abigail had waited at the entrance for a long time without seeing Michael. Freezing, they finally had to take a cab home.

Suppressing his anger, Michael said, "Damn it. When will you get better? Did you take your medicine?"

Emily said, "None of your business. Now get out, and give me 'Lucky' tomorrow."

Michael grabbed Emily, and in a dizzying moment, he pinned her to the bed, gritting his teeth, "Emily, you're good at using me and then discarding me, right?"

Emily, confused, asked, "What do you mean? You promised to give me 'Lucky."

Michael didn't know why he was so angry. He just felt uncomfortable inside. Pressing down on Emily, he coldly said, "Do you want it? Fine, but you'll have to pay a price. After all, it's $7 million. I need to get some interest back." As he spoke, he kissed her. Emily's struggles and movements reignited the heat in Michael's body.

Michael kissed her more deeply, while Emily, frightened by his cold hands and body, shivered. It was a very cold autumn night, and he had taken a cold shower. She cursed inwardly, 'He is crazy.'

But the next second, she couldn't breathe because of Michael, who kissed her, prying open her teeth and exploring her mouth greedily. Emily got out of breath by his kiss. Then Emily felt his hand slip under her nightgown, exploring upwards.