Forbidden Passion
Chapter 613 Phoebe Entered the Wrong Room

Phoebe wasn't one to get wasted often. Back when she used to hit up parties with Theodore, he always made sure she didn't drink too much.

The first time she tagged along with Raphael to a party, she was super cautious. She picked the weakest fruit wine, not realizing it had a sneaky kick. Stumbling out of the banquet hall, Phoebe was seeing double. She flagged down a waiter and asked where the elevator was. He pointed, and she squinted to see.

Barely making out the elevator, she staggered over. The doors opened, and she walked in without hitting any buttons. The elevator just started going up on its own. Phoebe leaned against the shiny elevator wall, too weak to stand straight.

She glanced at her key card and saw the room number: 8888.

When the elevator stopped, she was almost asleep and got jolted awake by the ding. She squinted at the numbers but couldn't make them out, so she wobbled out when the doors opened. The carpet was plush, and the dim chandelier light gave the place a mysterious vibe.

Phoebe stumbled forward, leaning on the wall, mumbling to herself.

She finally spotted the number 8888 on a door. She swiped the key card a few times, but the door wouldn't budge, and the smart system kept flashing an error.

Leaning against the door, she muttered, "Damn it, Mr. Upton. You said you booked a room upstairs, but you gave me a dud card. So cheap."

Too dizzy to keep walking, she was about to sit on the carpet to let the buzz wear off when the door swung open.

Caught off guard, she tumbled into the room, landing right in Theodore's arms. He didn't seem much better off than she was.

Her fall knocked Theodore to the ground, and she ended up on top of him. The door slowly closed behind them, plunging the room into darkness.

The room was pitch black, with just a faint glow from outside outlining the fancy suite.

Theodore's head hit the floor, but the carpet softened the blow a bit. Still, it was enough to make his already fuzzy mind even fuzzier.

He grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her off, but a familiar scent made him pause.

Phoebe, still barely conscious, waited for the dizziness to pass. She propped herself up on Theodore's chest, trying to get off him. "Sorry, I think I got the wrong room," she mumbled.

She hadn't expected anyone to be in the room; she must've messed up.

Seeing double, she tried to get up, but Theodore flipped her onto the floor.

Suddenly, she felt his weight on her as he pressed down.

Phoebe sobered up real quick. In the darkness, Theodore seemed to stare at her for a few seconds before he started kissing her neck and ears, tearing at her clothes. "No, stop; let go of me," she yelled.

Terrified, she pushed at his shoulders with all her might, but he was too strong.

She cried and hit him, but she couldn't stop him.

Theodore's breath was hot, and he was completely out of control. The woman in his arms made him lose it, especially her familiar, broken voice, which kept tempting him, destroying his reason, inviting him to indulge. Phoebe's eyes were swimming with tears. Eventually, she just gave up fighting. She just wanted it to be over, to get out of that suffocating room.

She stared blankly at the ceiling. Theodore was blocking her view, and in her blurry vision, she saw a black butterfly spreading its wings.

After a while, she realized it wasn't a real butterfly but a tattoo on Theodore's collarbone, like fate mocking her.

Phoebe thought she had hit rock bottom, but fate's cruel hand kept pushing her further. Tears streamed down her face.

She didn't even know how she managed to walk out of that room. She couldn't bear to look at Theodore's face, afraid it would haunt her dreams.

She stumbled out of the hotel, looking a mess, and a tall figure quickly approached her. As he got closer, she recognized him.

"Edward?" she called out.

Edward's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked frantic, like a trapped animal. He scanned her up and down, finally zeroing in on the bite marks on her neck. Pain flashed in his eyes.

"Phoebe, are you okay?" he asked.

Last night at the party, when a waiter had handed him a room key card, Edward had frowned and scanned the banquet hall.

Then he saw Raphael raise his glass to him, mouthing, "I wish Mr. Vanderbilt a pleasant evening."

But Phoebe, who had been with Raphael, was nowhere to be seen.

Edward immediately knew Raphael had figured out his feelings. No wonder Raphael had been trying to get Phoebe drunk earlier.

Even though Edward was furious that Raphael had manipulated Phoebe, he still took the key card. It had been too long since he had seen her.

Earlier, with Raphael around, he hadn't had much chance to talk to Phoebe. Now he had a place where they could talk.

But when Edward went upstairs with the key card and found the room empty, he knew something was wrong.

He had someone check the surveillance footage under the pretense of losing something important. When he saw Phoebe had gone to the top floor, his blood ran cold. Why?

Why was he always a step too late?

Phoebe looked at him, her eyes empty. "Edward, can you take me home?" she asked.

Edward clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and said hoarsely, "Okay, get in the car."

Phoebe staggered, and Edward reached out to steady her. He opened the passenger door and helped her in, leaning in to fasten her seatbelt.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you when we get home," Edward said, trying to hide his heartache.

Phoebe closed her eyes and whispered, "Okay."

Edward shut the car door, walked around to the driver's seat, and saw Phoebe's pale face. He took out his phone and made a call.

"Delete all the hotel's surveillance footage from tonight. Erase any trace of Phoebe being there. Don't let anyone know she was at this hotel tonight," he ordered.

After hanging up, Edward took a deep breath. Even though it was April and warming up, he felt cold all over.

To get to this point, he had done so many things behind the scenes. He couldn't lose Phoebe again.

Edward gripped his phone, got into the car, fastened his seatbelt, and drove away from the hotel. Everything that happened tonight would be buried, and no one would ever know.