Chapter 61
Myra felt a chill wash over her, a coldness that seemed to seep into her very bones. Sean, standing so close yet feeling so distant, only amplified her feelings of isolation. The sight before her made the weight of reality sink in—how foolish she had been to believe that she could ever capture his heart. She had tried so hard, but the man had shut himself off after the woman left. He had claimed to hate her, but was that truly the case? After all, where there was no love, there could be no hate.
Her thoughts spiraled, and before she knew it, she stumbled, nearly falling. But just as she was about to hit the ground, a pair of steady hands caught her.
“Miss Stark, please be careful,” a voice she found strangely familiar spoke.
She turned, slightly disoriented, to see a man she didn’t recognize. She clenched her fists, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The grip around her was firm, and it helped her stand. “Thank you,” she muttered softly.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, but his gaze fell on the torn sleeve of her dress where blood had started to seep from a scratch on her arm. He started to speak again, likely offering to help her get medical attention, but Myra ignored him, walking past him without a word.
Just then, Elliot, who had been searching for Philip, approached. When he saw the scene, his eyes widened, and he immediately started toward Myra, intent on confronting her.
“Who do you think you’re looking at?” Elliot asked as he noticed Philip’s gaze lingering on her.
Elliot didn’t wait for an answer, stomping toward Myra in frustration. “What’s she doing here? How dare she seduce Tony when she’s married to someone else?” His voice was sharp, full of anger.
Philip raised a hand, stopping him. “Don’t be hasty. I don’t think Miss Stark is that kind of person.”
Elliot’s expression soured. “She’s involved with the Sunny Bay Project, isn’t she? Maybe she came for Tony’s help with the project. She needs to be warned.”
Philip simply shook his head. “Do you think Tony is a fool? He knows what he’s doing. And besides…”
Elliot’s brows furrowed. “Besides what?”
Philip glanced at the dazzling woman who had just left the stage, a soft gleam in his eyes. “I think it’s not Miss Stark trying to win over Tony. I think it’s Tony who’s trying to win her heart.”
Meanwhile, Myra, feeling both numb and dizzy from the alcohol, picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray without sparing him a glance. She drank it quickly, hoping it would help numb the confusion inside her, but it only made her head heavier. The sensation of warmth spreading through her body felt alien—she didn’t know why, but something felt wrong.
Without thinking, she moved toward a quiet corner of the hall, seeking refuge. Settling onto a soft couch, she leaned back, her mind becoming foggy as her consciousness began to slip away. The world around her seemed to buzz in the background, a vague noise she couldn’t quite place. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt too heavy, and eventually, she gave up the attempt. A wave of heat surged through her, making her uncomfortable.
Just as she started to remove her clothes in a desperate attempt to cool down, a pair of strong arms enveloped her, pulling her into a cool embrace.
Tony, who had seen her faltering, swiftly approached. His cold expression masked the concern he felt as he lifted her into his arms, noticing her flushed face and the feverish heat radiating from her body. “Follow me upstairs,” he instructed Philip, his tone flat, though his eyes lingered on Myra with an intensity that betrayed his hidden worry.
Philip nodded, following Tony, while Elliot, clearly frustrated by Tony’s actions, watched the scene unfold. He wanted to say something, but Philip stopped him with a glance, a subtle warning to keep quiet.
The hallway was dim as Tony carried Myra, her body limp in his arms. A few people glanced their way, curiosity and suspicion in their gazes. But when they met Tony’s cold, forbidding stare, they quickly turned away, respecting the unspoken authority in his gaze.
As Tony moved swiftly, Myra stirred slightly in his arms, letting out a soft moan of discomfort. She shifted, and Tony realized with a frown that her elbow had been injured. His sharp gaze flicked to Philip, who had already noticed the injury.
“She’s dislocated her elbow,” Philip observed grimly.
Tony’s expression darkened. He hadn’t realized the extent of her injury when she had left his sight, and now, the thought of her pain was making him anxious. “Get some medicine,” Tony ordered Elliot, his voice terse. Without wasting another moment, he continued toward the second floor.
Elliot, frustrated and unable to voice his thoughts, reluctantly followed the command. He had been hoping to talk to Tony, but it seemed Myra had captured all his attention.
The presidential suite was dimly lit, its expansive interior casting long shadows. Myra lay on the king-sized bed, her face pale and her body still. Three men stood around her, their expressions somber. One was carefully tending to her injury, while the other two seemed to be lost in thought.
“Tony,” Philip said, his voice softening. “Her elbow has been treated. Thankfully, it wasn’t more serious.”
Tony nodded, though his eyes never left Myra’s face. His expression remained cold, but there was a hint of tenderness as he stepped closer to her, reaching for her hand. The gesture was subtle but telling, showing that his feelings for her were far from what he had led others to believe.
Myra stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open, though they remained heavy. “It hurts…” she whispered hoarsely, her voice strained. She winced in pain, but the moment her hand was held, she instinctively tightened her grip on Tony’s hand, seeking comfort in the small connection.
Philip and Elliot exchanged silent glances, both sensing the change in the air. This wasn’t the same Tony they knew.