Chapter 863 A Tool
Emelie stood there, water droplets clinging to her skin. The towel had already slipped to the floor.
In the soft morning light, she looked both pure and serene. Her smooth shoulders, defined curves, and slender legs had a faint, rosy glow. Wet strands of hair stuck to her cheeks.
Her usual coolness was gone, replaced by something undeniably alluring. It reminded William of how she had clung to him last night vulnerable and irresistibly tempting.
Last night had felt like a dream, one that William knew he’d be replaying in his mind for a long time.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His dark eyes were locked on her, taking in every detail.
Emelie wasn’t the type to panic or rush back to the bathroom in embarrassment. Instead, she calmly reached for a dark green robe. She shook it out and slipped it on with a steady hand, her gaze never leaving his.
William acted like nothing had happened. “I thought you were still in bed. Finish up and come downstairs when you’re ready.”
He quietly closed the door behind him as he left.
Emelie clenched her teeth and kicked the towel aside. She should’ve just slept with a gigolo last night.
After she washed her face and brushed her teeth, Emelie finally felt calm enough to head downstairs.
As she descended, she replayed last night over and over in her mind.
Sure, some of it was the alcohol talking. But another part of it was pure, pent-up emotion that needed the most intense and complete release.
Sleeping with him might stir up some unnecessary complications, but she didn’t regret it.
She wasn’t naive enough to think that one night would flip their entire relationship upside down. Only someone weak would let a physical connection mess with their emotions.
To Emelie, it was just a means to an end-nothing more, nothing less.
When she reached the first floor, Emelie saw William taking breakfast out of the kitchen and setting it on the table. A glass of honey water was waiting for her. She knew it was meant for her, so she picked it up and took a sip. Then, she asked, “Have you been in touch with Lyle?”
William served her a bowl of mushroom soup. He placed it in front of her and warmly replied, “Just because Lyle works for you now doesn’t mean we’re not on speaking terms. It’s normal for us to stay in touch occasionally, right?”
“Is that so?” Emelie brought up the past. “Didn’t you kick him out of Capebatt City and take his Westward Club?” “That was business,” William said evenly. “I couldn’t forgive what he did back then, but I can respect that he’s been protecting you all these years. I can let it go this time.”
“How convenient that he always got the final say,” Emelie mused to herself.
Emelie glanced at the dishes on the table, everything was light and simple. She picked up a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, eating slowly and savoring each bite.
William waited until she’d had her fill and was clearly done. Then, he looked at her and said, “I called Lyle earlier. He said that he told you everything that he found. So, last night, was I just a tool for an emotional outlet? Or a tool to get back at Wesley?”
Emelie sipped her coffee and replied, “What’s the difference? A tool is a tool, and you were definitely one.”
Here was the CEO of the Cloudex Corporation, being dismissed, belittled, and humiliated.
Emelie glanced up, half expecting a reaction.
However, William didn’t flinch. Instead, he noticed her preference for classic breakfast and pushed a plate of bacon and pancakes closer to her. “Try these. They’re fresh and from the best diner in town.”
Emelie asked, “I just called you a tool, and you’re fine with that?”
William replied, “The fact that you came to me instead of Lyle, just that alone makes me happy.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Don’t read too much into it. I just remembered that you used me back then, so I thought you should get a taste of being used yourself,” Emelie said.
William asked, “What are we supposed to be now?”
Emelie smirked. “You want a title? Get real. Tools don’t get titles.”
William took a sip of his water, unbothered. “That works out perfectly. Next week at your wedding, I’ll be the groom.”
Emelie almost forgot. April had arrived, and her wedding with Wesley was just around the corner.
How amusing, she thought. The bride had forgotten, and the groom didn’t even remind her. Meanwhile, William had been counting down the days, each one ticked off with meticulous precision.
Emelie’s smile was a mix of amusement and skepticism. “What kind of daydream are you having?”
William’s tone turned serious. “You know everything now, and you still plan on marrying Wesley?”
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