Free Web NovelChapter 103: Chapter 103 A Familiar Embrace
Rose’s vision was blurred.
Driven by pure survival instinct, she clung desperately to the lifeline that had plunged into the water after her.
The arms wrapped around her waist were strong and steady.
In one swift motion, he pulled her from the pool.
Oxygen rushed back into her lungs.
Rose’s vision darkened.
The shadows of the past flooded her mind, leaving her body trembling and her thoughts blank.
"Rose?"
A cold, magnetic voice reached her ears.
By then, she had already been carried ashore.
Her head felt painfully fuzzy.
She cracked her eyes open and caught sight of Ryan’s sharply defined jawline.
His dark hair dripped with water, and his expression remained cold and unreadable.
Without wasting a second, he grabbed a towel from a nearby chair and wrapped it around her.
A sharp pain burned through Rose’s lungs.
She already had a cold, and after choking on pool water, her entire body felt as though it were on fire.
Her limbs felt weak and heavy.
Ryan carried her away without a word.
His strides were long and fast.
Yet she felt no jolting.
The arms holding her remained steady and secure.
"Mr. Knight? Who are you carrying?"
While waiting for the elevator, Rose vaguely heard someone call out.
It sounded like Jordan.
Ryan didn’t stop.
Instead, he adjusted the towel draped around her and pulled it higher, covering most of her face.
The elevator carried them directly to the penthouse suite.
The moment they entered, nausea overwhelmed Rose.
Ryan kicked open the bathroom door, carried her inside, and set her down on the countertop beside the sink.
Rose immediately pushed the towel aside, bent over the sink, and vomited.
Her stomach and lungs burned fiercely.
Drops of water still trickled from Ryan’s dark hair.
Watching her miserable state, he said nothing.
He simply lifted a hand and began patting her back.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Stroke after stroke.
Once she caught her breath, Rose became aware of the warm palm moving gently against her back.
Leaning weakly against the sink, she looked up at him.
His eyes were as dark as ink, carrying an intense and unyielding depth.
Yet there was no emotion in them.
No urgency.
No tenderness.
It was almost as though he were helping her out of habit.
"Feeling better?" Ryan asked.
His white shirt was soaked through.
His gaze traveled from her face downward.
Rose’s expression immediately changed.
Her condition was far from presentable.
She wore only a loose white long-sleeved T-shirt with a wide neckline.
After falling into the pool, the fabric had become nearly transparent, clinging tightly to her skin and revealing the light beige, lace-trimmed bra underneath.
With every rapid breath, her chest rose and fell sharply beneath the wet fabric.
Ryan’s gaze remained calm and completely unguarded.
Rose lowered her head.
Then she abruptly grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself again.
"Get out."
Ryan appeared entirely unimpressed by her dramatic reaction.
Without arguing, he turned and left the bathroom.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Two minutes later, it opened again.
Ryan stepped inside and handed her a neatly folded set of dry clothes.
On top sat a fresh set of underwear.
Rose’s expression darkened immediately.
"You went through my suitcase?"
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "So you expected me to do nothing after you fell into a pool?"
His tone carried no trace of apology.
Nor did he look remotely interested in backing down.
Rose frowned deeply.
Ryan seemed unconcerned.
After seven years of marriage, there was hardly anything about Rose he hadn’t already seen.
He set the clothes within her reach and left again.
This time, closing the door behind him.
Rose was freezing.
She lacked the energy to argue over details.
Still, this long-forgotten husband-and-wife dynamic felt deeply unsettling.
Slowly and stiffly, she changed clothes, dried her hair, and leaned against the wall as she made her way toward the door.
The fever and shock had left her legs weak.
The moment she stepped out, she saw Ryan leaning against the doorframe.
Rose blinked in surprise.
He hadn’t left?
As soon as he saw her, he reached out.
Rose shoved him hard in the chest.
"Don’t touch me."
She pushed with so much force that she nearly lost her own balance.
Ryan stared at her.
Then he let out a soft chuckle.
Ignoring her resistance completely, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.
Before she could react, he had already carried her to the bed and set her down.
"The hotel sent up some medicine. Take it."
Wearing only a dry bath towel around his waist, Ryan walked to a nearby chair and sat down.
He held out several pills.
A glass of warm water already waited on the nightstand.
Clearly, he had prepared everything beforehand.
Throughout the entire process, his expression remained cold and detached.
There was no tenderness.
No warmth.
It was as though he were merely fulfilling a basic humanitarian obligation.
"Thank you. I’ll take them. You can leave now."
Rose kept her tone as polite as possible.
She had no desire to talk to him.
Ryan stretched out his long legs. "Mm."
His response was indifferent. "I’ll leave after you’ve taken them."
His gaze was sharp.
As though he had already seen through her plan to throw the medicine away the moment he left.
No one knew better than Ryan how much Rose hated taking medication.
Rose held back her irritation again and again.
Finally, she pursed her lips, took the pills from his palm, and swallowed them expressionlessly with a mouthful of water.
The bitterness barely registered.
After all, nothing compared to the pain the man sitting before her had caused.
"Are you satisfied now?" Rose asked.
She picked up the alarm clock on the nightstand and set it for 6:30 p.m.
Ryan watched her quietly.
Her face was pale, but the stubborn determination in her eyes was impossible to miss.
He took the empty glass from her hand. "Go to sleep."
Rose watched him leave the room.
Only then did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Pulling the blankets tightly around herself, she closed her eyes.
She desperately needed sleep.
She still had to discuss the contract and investment with Jordan that evening.
No matter how terrible she felt, she had to go.
That night, Rose slept deeply.
And dreamed deeply.
Her memories carried her back to that year.
The year her precious bracelet had been cruelly thrown into the vast lake at the Knight family’s estate.
Without hesitation, she had jumped into the water to retrieve it.
Her forehead struck a submerged rock.
She had been on the verge of death.
Then—
A figure leaped into the lake and swam toward her.
*****
When Rose woke, her face, neck, and body were drenched in sweat.
She casually brushed the damp strands of hair away from her forehead, revealing it completely.
A soft wall lamp glowed beside the bed.
Beyond the window, neon lights illuminated the city.
The sky was completely dark.
A chill ran down her spine.
Rose immediately turned toward the alarm clock on the nightstand.
Her eyes widened.
It was almost nine o’clock.
Why hadn’t her alarm gone off?
She shot upright so quickly that dizziness instantly washed over her again.
At that moment, the bedroom door opened.
Ryan strode inside.
"Why are you still here?" Rose asked before she had fully processed what was happening.
He had already changed into fresh clothes.
He had likely showered.
The faint scent of soap lingered around him.
Ryan paid little attention to her reaction.
Walking over, he picked up a thermometer and gently brushed the sweat-dampened strands of hair away from her forehead.
As he checked her temperature, his gaze briefly landed on the small scar near her hairline—a scar usually hidden beneath her bangs.
Then he looked away without the slightest change in expression.
"Thirty-seven point one."
He lowered the thermometer. "The fever’s gone down."
"I asked why you’re still here. And where’s my phone?"
Still dizzy, Rose looked around the room.
Ryan absentmindedly twirled the thermometer between his fingers.
"It fell into the pool."
His tone was casual. "We haven’t found it yet."
Rose fell silent.
"..."
So she had stood Jordan up after all.
