Falling for a Lie, My Stepbrother’s Hidden Revenge. novel Chapter 73

The seemingly sleeping girl pouted her lips, made a soft sound, and clutched Asher's shirt sleeve, refusing to let go.

"Are you awake?" Asher leaned down slightly, his hands braced on either side of Sylvia, his eyes lowered as he looked at her.

"Dri..." Sylvia's eyes remained closed as her lips moved, softly uttering a syllable. "Dri..."

"Drake?" Asher's eyes narrowed sharply, his deep gaze darkening dangerously, a cold glint appearing in their depths.

Drake?

Drake Ashcroft?

Was she actually calling Drake's name while drunk?

It was quite enough that she'd drunkenly told everyone he had bedroom performance issues, but now she was calling her ex's name?

Right—he'd almost forgotten why he'd gone to the bar in the first place!

He'd intended to confront her about those ridiculous rumors.

She hadn't even bloody tried, so how could she possibly know whether he was "unable" or not?

Asher's brow furrowed deeply, a chill settling in his chest.

Ungrateful little minx.

He straightened up, his gaze falling on Sylvia with a dominating air. "You're still thinking about him?"

Even though the girl couldn't hear him, Asher couldn't help asking.

The air was thick with jealousy.

Someone had clearly spilled the vinegar jar of envy.

"Sylvia Lancelot," Asher's voice was deep and threatening, his British accent becoming more pronounced. "Think very carefully before you speak..."

In the next moment, the girl's eyelashes fluttered slightly as she restlessly turned over on the bed, burying her face in the pillow and murmuring in a wheedling tone: "Drink... I want some water to drink..."

Asher: "..."

Drink?

So it wasn't "Drake" but "Drink"?

Asher couldn't help but laugh, the tension in him instantly releasing.

He moved closer again, his tone indulgent. "Via, let me get you cleaned up first, then I'll bring you some water, shall we?"

His Sylvia liked to be pristine. If she woke up tomorrow still wearing yesterday's clothes and reeking of alcohol, she would definitely be mortified.

The room was so quiet he could hear the girl's deep, steady breathing.

Sylvia was sound asleep, unable to answer him.

After waiting silently for a few seconds, Asher exhaled and turned to the bathroom to prepare a bath, then returned to carry Sylvia.

"Let's get you sorted for a proper night's sleep."

He gently removed Sylvia's clothes and placed her in the bathtub.

Sylvia, sensing the movement, opened her eyes with a hazy gaze. "Asher..."

"Via, be good now."

Asher's movements were gentle and careful. He first wet Sylvia's hair, squeezed shampoo into his hand, lathered it, and then gently massaged it into her hair.

Sylvia leaned against the bathtub, still not fully conscious, but the warm water helped her entire body relax.

She exhaled contentedly, enjoying Asher's attentions.

After the bath, Asher dried the water droplets from Sylvia's body, wrapped her in a towel, and carried her back to the bedroom to dry her hair.

By the time her hair was dry, Sylvia had become more alert.

"Stay with me," she insisted, clutching his collar.

Asher lowered his eyes, speaking in a soothing voice: "Alright, I'll stay with you."

"Tell me a story," Sylvia murmured softly.

Asher was completely accommodating. "Very well."

He opened his phone to search for a few bedtime stories, then began reading them to her in his deep, gentle voice.

Gradually, Sylvia stopped fidgeting.

The hand clutching his collar finally relaxed.

Asher had finally lulled Sylvia to sleep.

He had originally planned to leave, but because Sylvia was drunk and had no one to look after her, he felt uneasy and decided to stay the night.

There were no toiletries or change of clothes for him here.

Asher called for a Blackwood household staff member to bring a change of clothes and toiletries, then used Sylvia's bathroom to shower.

The girl on the bed was sleeping soundly.

Asher smiled indulgently, his deep, gentle gaze fixed on her fair, beautiful face.

Had he been the one who came to the bar and brought her home?

If so, had he seen her hanging all over that other man...

She tried to remember, but couldn't recall anything about what the man from last night looked like.

Sylvia felt like crying. She didn't dare imagine how much Asher had witnessed; she felt too ashamed to face him.

The man on the sofa slept with perfect posture, his sleeping face handsome.

Sylvia became entranced watching him.

In the quiet morning, the apartment was free from any noise. Sylvia could almost hear her own heartbeat.

Seeing his tall figure curled up on the sofa made her heart ache with tenderness.

She walked over and stood in front of Asher, reaching out to gently poke his cheek with her index finger.

The man showed no reaction, sleeping soundly.

Emboldened, Sylvia pinched his cheek lightly, which finally drew a response.

He opened his eyes, still drowsy with sleep, looking at her hazily. "Via, you're awake."

Sylvia hesitated before speaking softly, "Asher, you should go sleep in the bedroom."

Asher sat up, running his fingers through his hair. "What time is it?"

There was a clock hanging on the living room wall.

Sylvia glanced at it. "Half seven."

In one smooth motion, Asher pulled Sylvia into his arms, encircling her as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"It's Saturday. Aren't you going back to sleep? Why are you up so early?" His voice still carried the slight huskiness of someone just waking, sending shivers down her spine.

His warm breath tickled Sylvia's ear, causing her to instinctively shiver as a tingling sensation spread through half her body.

"I'm not going back to sleep. I drank too much last night and my head hurts a bit."

"If you can't handle your alcohol, you shouldn't drink so much," Asher chuckled softly. "Do you have any idea how utterly maddening you were when you got drunk last night?"

He had nearly lost his composure in front of everyone.

Sylvia suddenly recalled images of herself clinging to that man, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I... I'm sorry, Asher..."

Asher's voice carried a hypnotic gravel quality, irresistibly attractive. "Hmm? Is 'sorry' all you have to offer?"

His lips curved into a smile. "You told everyone I couldn't rise to the occasion without ever giving me a chance to prove myself. Perhaps you'd like to find out if I'm really lacking in that department?"