Chapter 532

The air was thick with tension.

Ishara stared at him coldly as he dressed. His presence was chilling to the bone. She was determined to pin the blame on him.

Tears trailed her cheeks as Ishara sobbed and lowered her head. "It's okay. If Lawrence says he didn't touch me, then he didn't. You refuse to admit we slept together, and for your sake, I won't spread it around. I'll quietly cherish the mix of joy and pain from last night."

"I'm telling you again, I would never touch you." Lawrence whipped around, standing over her, his face a look of scorn. "No one interests me other than Winnie. You're not aware of my particular issue. Framing me? Not happening."

His voice wasn't loud, but his words hung in the air like a chill. The man picked up his tie and strode toward the door. Ishara called out from behind him, a touch of self-mockery in her voice, "Lawrence, have you forgotten? Last night, you held me tight, calling out Winnie's name all night. You were drunk and mistook me for Winnie. That's why this happened. Think about it!"

Lawrence froze in place. His mind wasn't completely devoid of fragments from the night before. in them, he vividly remembered encountering Winnie. An attentive Winnie who had smiled at him, cooed sweet nothings, and snuggled against him. He had downed a drink and then had fallen on top of Winnie. But Winnie couldn't have been here. This was the Blanchet residence. This was Ishara's bedroom. Damn it.

He couldn't have confused Ishara's face to Winnie. No. He wasn't a lightweight when it came to drinking. There was no way he made a mistake. He wondered what really happened last night. All he could vaguely recall was taking an amoxicillin pill from Dr. Leo, and then everything went blank.

Lawrence's eyes flickered open, his gaze sharp and piercing as ice. He turned back around, facing Ishara. Her face was ashen, the allure still lingering as if she were terrified of him. She shrank back against the headboard, clutching at the blanket. Yet, when their eyes met, her shock couldn't hide that undercurrent of composure.

"I wouldn't mistake Winnie, even drunk. What did you do to me?" Lawrence looked down at her, his gaze so intense that Ishara had no doubt he could strangle her in the next second.

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head, "Lawrence, you were so overpoweringly strong last night. How could I dare to do anything to you? You were too drunk. There are bottles and glass on the floor."

"If I was supposed to leave from downstairs, why the hell would I come up to drink with you?" he demanded darkly.

Ishara hung her head and wept. "It's my fault... I invited you. But after you drank too much, everything spun out of control. It's on me for not resisting you."

Lawrence could swear on his sober self that he never would have followed Ishara upstairs. Something had gone amiss.

The pounding headache and weakness throughout his body raised his suspicions.

"Did you drug me?" His gaze was icy and disgusted as he fixed his eyes on her and pulled out his phone. "Bryan, get a doctor ready for me."

"Lawrence, if you don't believe me, get checked out. You just don't want to take responsibility for us sleeping together last night, do you?"

A harsh laugh escaped Lawrence's lips. His face was filled with contempt as he wrote a check and tossed it at her, pronouncing each word scornfully. "You got it right. Even if I did sleep with you, so what? Do you think I owe you anything? I don't like you. Can't you see how much I despise you? Our engagement was a business deal. We knew it would end someday. Cause any more trouble, and I'll make sure you pay tenfold. Keep your mouth shut!"

Ishara glanced at the check amount. Ten million. Her face turned purple with rage. He was trying to silence her with mere millions. It was a blatant insult.

She gritted her teeth fiercely.

Snatching up the wine bottle, Lawrence left the Blanchet residence with a stormy expression.

At the hospital, Bryan had arranged for a doctor to collect Lawrence's blood samples for tests.

After drawing two vials, the results came back quickly. The doctor nervously reported, "Mr. Rodriguez, we found no trace of aphrodisiacs in your blood, just a considerable alcohol level."

Lawrence's gaze was ice-cold, feeling both surprised and not. "What if I'd been drugged? Is there a way the tests wouldn't show it?"

"It's hard to say," the doctor replied. "Your metabolic functions are outstanding, faster than the average person. If something expedited your metabolism, or you were given an antidote, the tests might not detect any anomalies."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes and turned to Bryan. "Is there anything unusual about the wine stains on the bottle?"

"Nothing, Mr. Rodriguez."

Whatever Ishara had done, she had left no trace.

Extinguishing his cigarette, Lawrence reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a crushed capsule container, and handed it to the doctor. "Test this for any remaining drug traces."

"Sure thing, Mr. Rodriguez."

Lawrence turned on his heel, striding out of the hospital into the harsh morning sun that turned his eyes crimson, casting a fearsome presence.

Bryan opened the car door, hesitating before asking him, "Mr. Rodriguez, did you, by chance, consume any aphrodisiacs last night at the Blanchet residence? Was it Ishara who gave it to you? Did something happen between you two?"

"I refuse to believe anything happened between us. But I did mistake her for Winnie." Lawrence clenched his fists, his voice icy.

Taken aback, Bryan wondered if Lawrence was drunk and confused. His current judgement might be distorted. Bryan immediately reined in his thoughts. "Mr. Rodriguez, where are you headed now?"

"Has Winnie's breakfast been delivered yet?"

"Mr. Jeremy is en route to do just that."

"Get in touch with him. I'll take it myself."

Bryan glanced at Lawrence and his disheveled shirt. "Mr. Rodriguez, you might want to freshen up first."

Lawrence looked down at himself and had to admit he somehow felt dirty. His mood was gloomy. He felt guilty and hurt as he was eager to see Winnie.

At the hotel, Olivia packed her modest luggage into Jeremy's SUV. Winnie emerged, holding Sidney and Mia by their hands.

Jeremy, behind the wheel, glanced at the calendar. "Ms. Winnie, today seems like an excellent day to move. Your driver Jeremy is at your service!"

"Mr. Jeremy, can you stop being sarcastic?" said Olivia, deadpan.

Winnie climbed into the car, her smile weary. "Thank you, let's go."

Sunshine bathed the Delightful Estate community. Jeremy parked in the private driveway, unloading the luggage.

Winnie stepped out of the car and looked up. In front of the fourth house, two figures stood, one notably tall and imposing, her focus sharpened as a chill washed over her gaze. After simmering overnight, the rage in her heart had cooled.

With a soft intensity in his gaze, Lawrence, carrying an elegant insulated container, strode over with long steps. "Winnie, are you moving today? You didn't tell me. Luckily, I came by myself. Here's your breakfast. Eat it while it's hot!"

Winnie took the breakfast and threw it in the trash without a word.

Sidney, previously beaming, froze. "Mommy, are you mad at Daddy again?"

Lawrence's handsome lips were set in a firm line, a trace of unease flickering across his features.

He wondered if she had uncovered something.