The next day, when Joyce woke up from her sleep, she was curling up on the sofa in her suite and covered with a blanket. It was actually so uncomfortable.

Inside the room, the curtains were drawn tightly, and not a single ray of light could get in.

She looked at the phone beside her and was surprised that it was already ten in the morning.

It was really a long deep sleep.

Last night, she bandaged Luther's arm, took a hasty shower, washed her face, and reapplied the mask.

After another careful check and she was sure that the bleeding on his arm had been stopped, she then went to sleep.

It seemed, there was still no movement inside the room. Was he still sleeping? There was no way he could have slept until this point and not woken up. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Was it possible that the effect of yesterday's medicine had not yet passed? Or did something happen?

She got up suspiciously and walked gingerly into the room.

She approached him slowly. She then heard the sound of his even breathing and saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. She turned on the light and was relieved to see that his face looked normal and she turned it off again.

okay, so she just let

way, she turned

hem of her coat was tugged, and she stood

Luther murmured,

"Oh."

going to pull the curtains

was ready to walk to the window, but he still pulled at the hem of her

at him helplessly, "What's wrong? Let

is not your presidential suite, and we don’t

sleeping in

know. Just

his shirt was wrinkled into a mess, and now

the

her. They were so close that she could even feel his burning

lifted his hand and

flinched a bit, and immediately tensed up, "What are you doing?

already fine. What are you thinking?

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