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Chapter 661
Chapter 661:
He looked just as bad as she felt. His cheeks were unnaturally flushed, and he clung to her as he murmured thickly, “Annabel… Annabel… I love you. I love you so much p>
That was when Annabel realized that, just like her, he had been drugged.
Thinking fast, she bit hard into her tongue. Pain shot through her—sharp enough to clear her head, if only a little.
She shoved Rory away and shouted, “Rory, wake up p>
“Annabel, I love you.” His eyes were unfocused, his words slurred, as if he barely understood where he was—let alone what he was doing.
“I know you can’t forget Rupert, but I love you more than he ever will. Just accept me… please. Will you p>
His voice cracked. There was grief in it. Somewhere inside, he seemed to know this was wrong, but his body wasn’t listening. He couldn’t control himself.
Annabel opened her mouth to speak—to push him away again—but he lunged forward and kissed her, seizing the moment he’d been yearning for all these years.
Annabel knew Rory was under the influence of the drugs too.
She had to snap him out of it—fast—or both of them would be ruined by this twisted setup.
Determined not to let that happen, Annabel shoved Rory away, her eyes turning cold as she scanned the room for anything that could help. Her gaze landed on a teapot on the table, still filled with water.
Hope flared.
She grabbed the lid, yanked it open, and poured the icy water straight over Rory’s face.
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The shock jolted Rory out of his haze. He blinked hard and stammered, “Annabel p>
What was wrong with him?
Rubbing his temples, he began to piece things together.
He remembered a waitress approaching him, saying Annabel wasn’t feeling well and wanted to see him in the lounge.
Then he’d gone upstairs… felt something strange… and after that, everything had dissolved into blur.
Annabel cut in firmly. “Rory, listen to me. We were drugged.” She poured the remaining water over her own face, the cold helping to tamp down the heat surging through her body.
Rory stared at her, disbelief twisting his expression. “How is that possible? Who would do this to us?” He finally understood—they’d walked straight into someone’s vicious trap.
Before Annabel could answer, the lounge door was kicked open with a deafening crash.
A swarm of reporters surged in, shoving cameras and microphones forward. Their lenses snapped toward Annabel and Rory—both soaked, both shaken, both trying to understand what had just happened.
