Chapter 133
Chapter 133:
Alden’s complexion had drained to an ashen white, his sharp eyebrows furrowing into a trio of deep, straight lines that accentuated the severity of his distress.
Meanwhile, Xavier was conspicuously absent. Caught in the urgency of the moment, Helena couldn’t spare a thought for the others. She dashed over and seized Alden’s arm, her voice a tender murmur of concern. “Can you stand? Come on, wake up. We need to get you home p>
Barely, Alden managed to pry his eyelids open. His gaze, dimmed and hazy from alcohol, wandered as he focused on Helena. Recognizing her, he rasped with disbelief, “Helena p>
His confusion deepened, and he shook his head slightly, whispering in a tone filled with denial, “No… it can’t be. She wouldn’t come here p>
Valeria, with her trained medical eye, instantly recognized Alden’s intoxication as nothing more than an act.
She was tempted to expose him right there, yet the sight of Helena’s genuine worry and the softness in her eyes stayed her tongue.
Perhaps this unexpected situation might pave the way for heart-to-heart confessions between Helena and Alden. Valeria decided to step back, refraining from meddling in this delicate dance of revelations.
Helena’s heart felt pierced by a needle of pain as she listened to Alden’s faint, disbelieving mutters.
Gripping his hand more firmly, she reassured him with urgent sincerity, “I’m right here! It’s really me. You’re not imagining things—you’re just drunk. Let’s go home p>
As clarity began to seep back into his eyes, Alden looked at Helena intently, as if to etch her presence into his memory, ensuring she was real.
Under his scrutinizing stare, Helena’s cheeks warmed with a blush, and she swiftly helped him to his feet.
Alden’s resistance was palpable; he seemed rooted to the spot. Helena’s voice softened to a coaxing whisper. “Come on, don’t be difficult… let’s go home. Together, okay p>
That finally seemed to reach him—he gave in with a slight nod and allowed her to lead him.
With slow, unsteady steps, they headed for the door—Alden’s tall figure sagging against Helena, his weight a heavy burden on her slight frame.
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Helena, slight and delicate, struggled to support Alden’s weight as they shuffled forward. With each unsteady step, she threw him a worried look, urging him to mind his footing.
By the time they reached the entrance of the bar, Helena was nearly spent. Gathering her remaining strength, she turned to wave a breathless goodbye to Valeria and the others.
Valeria, embodying her usual cool detachment, responded with an impatient flick of her hand, dismissing them swiftly.
Once Helena and Alden had vanished into the night, Valeria rolled her eyes and scoffed under her breath. “A tipsy man can fake it so well, it might just break your heart p>
She scanned the other two pretenders. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed a glass of icy water and splashed it over them, the shock of the cold liquid jolting them back to reality.
“Enough of this charade! The show’s over,” Valeria snapped, her tone sharp and commanding.
The two men, suddenly alert and shivering from the chill, reluctantly opened their eyes.
Dorian offered Valeria a sheepish grin and began inching toward her, perhaps hoping for some semblance of sympathy.
Valeria swiftly raised a hand, halting his advance. “Save it. I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing, and I don’t need an explanation,” she said dismissively.
Her thoughts then drifted to her gullible friend Helena, who had so easily been duped. With a mix of concern and frustration, she pressed Dorian. “Just level with me—what’s Alden really up to p>
“Don’t worry about Alden,” Dorian replied, his expression earnest. “He’d never do anything to hurt Helena p>
Valeria could see it clearly; Alden might be shrouded in mysteries, but his fierce protectiveness toward Helena was unmistakable.
As for Helena…
Valeria thought of the tender way Helena gazed at Alden, her heart sinking with a silent sigh.
Her silly friend was blissfully unaware of the depth of her own feelings. Choosing not to interfere, Valeria refrained from probing further. She picked up her bag and spun on her heel to leave, but was quickly flanked by the two men, each taking a position at her side.
Leonino, his voice tinged with desperation, barely managed to part his lips when Valeria swiftly interrupted him. “If you’re gearing up to ask me to continue this charade as your girlfriend and push through with your sham wedding, save your breath p>
Dorian wore a slightly self-satisfied smirk.
But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Valeria cut him off with a sharp glare and an even sharper tongue. “And you—don’t even bother. I don’t like you. Not even a tiny bit, so don’t waste your breath p>
Her brutal honesty hit like a slap, leaving both men stunned into silence.
With one final, withering glance, Valeria turned on her heel and strode away—head held high, heels clicking, every step radiating icy confidence.
About thirty minutes later, Helena finally got Alden—still putting on his drunken act—back to their place.
Leaning against his towering frame, Helena fumbled with the keys, finally unlocking the door. Then, with sheer determination, she half-dragged, half-supported him through the hallway and toward the bedroom.
By the time they reached the edge of the bed, Helena was breathless and drenched in exhaustion.
She made one last attempt to help him onto the mattress, but her knees buckled under the weight, and she tumbled down beside him with a soft thud.
“Ah!” Helena cried out as her forehead slammed into the brass bedpost. The sharp pain made her wince, eyes squeezing shut as she clutched the aching spot.
Before she could even lift a hand to nurse the bump, Alden—who had appeared completely out cold—suddenly opened his eyes, completely alert. Concern flickered across his face as he sat up slightly and reached for her. “Hey, are you okay? Let me see. Tilt your head up p>
Helena went rigid, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on her.
With a mix of disbelief and indignation bubbling up inside her, she shot to her feet. “You were faking drunkenness?” she demanded sharply.
“I wasn’t! I—” Alden stammered, scrambling upright and reaching out to grasp her hand in an attempt to explain.
But Helena was having none of it. Yanking her hand free, she articulated each word with icy precision. “I hate being lied to!” She shot Alden a withering glare that could have melted steel, then whirled around to leave.
Alden, desperation coloring his movements, reached out and grabbed her arm, intending only to hold her back. However, his unsteady strength overpowered his intentions.
They collided with a thud, tumbling backward in a clumsy heap onto the soft bed, a startled cry escaping Helena.