Chapter 10

Naomi wasn't who Brendan had expected. Her daily routine was more complex than simply going to work and returning home.

Later, when Jennifer brought in snacks and tea, Brendan casually inquired about Naomi's usual schedule.

Jennifer replied, "Sometimes Mrs. Ludwig works late, but not often. She usually comes home early. It's still early today."

Early? It was already past nine o'clock.

Brendan had often been criticized for his long work hours, but it seemed Naomi was no better. He'd assumed their agreement to have him home once a week meant she'd eagerly await him, but things weren't as he'd imagined. Hands in his pockets, Brendan stood by the window, watching for Naomi's return.

Inside an Audi A6, a young man gripped the steering wheel, glancing at Naomi, who leaned her head against the car window. He asked, "Ms. Goodwin, are you alright?"

Naomi frowned, her right hand pressed to her chest. "I'm fine."

She'd been the center of attention at the celebration and had drunk heavily. Her colleagues had suggested karaoke afterward, but Naomi could barely stand. Michael had arranged for a colleague to drive her home. About ten minutes later, as the car entered the exclusive Yellowind Bay residential area, as Naomi had directed, the young man was stunned.

Yellowind Bay was Ashburgh's most luxurious neighborhood, surrounded by hills and lakes, a serene environment coveted by many. Naturally, property prices were astronomical.

He hadn't expected Naomi to live in Yellowind Bay. When the car stopped at her address—Yellowind Bay No. 1—he was even more shocked. The villa before them was a vast estate, spanning nearly a hundred acres and owned by a prominent Ashburgh figure.

"Ms. Goodwin," the young man called, confirming her address.

Suddenly, the villa gates opened, and a tall man in dark grey pajamas emerged slowly. He looked cold and unsmiling.

Recognizing Brendan, the young man's hands clenched the steering wheel. "Mr. Ludwig," he quickly exited the car to greet him.

Brendan glanced at him indifferently, then walked to the passenger side and opened the door. The scent of alcohol hit him as he saw Naomi. His eyes were icy. "Naomi, who allowed you to drink outside?"

Hearing Brendan's voice, Naomi looked up in surprise. "Hey! You're back!" She'd clearly forgotten their agreement.

After greeting him with a smile, Naomi fumbled with her seatbelt. She mumbled, "Why can't I undo this?"

Brendan looked disgusted but still bent down to unbuckle her seatbelt and lift her from the car. Naomi instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, saying, "Brendan, I'm not that drunk. Put me down. I can walk."

Hearing this, Brendan held her tighter, as if staking his claim.

At the gate, the young man was astonished. Naomi's connection to Brendan Ludwig explained her legal representation of Ludwig Corporation.

Remembering Brendan's cold gaze, the young man shivered. Had Brendan misunderstood something?

He quickly returned to the car, grabbing Naomi's bag. "Mr. Ludwig, Ms. Goodwin's bag." He added, "Mr. Ludwig, our firm had a dinner tonight. I'm allergic to alcohol, so I was driving colleagues home."

Brendan took the bag. "Thanks."

"No problem, Mr. Ludwig."

At the entrance, the young man watched, still shocked, as Brendan carried Naomi inside. Naomi was far more influential than he'd imagined; their law firm's prospects had just improved significantly.

Brendan carried Naomi to the upstairs bedroom and settled her on the sofa. He pulled up a chair, looking ready to interrogate her.

"Naomi, is that man really your colleague? Did he only drop you off, or were there others?"

The young man was clean-cut and well-mannered, the type Naomi might take a second look at.

Naomi, hugging a pillow, looked at Brendan with blurry eyes. "Brendan, are you jealous?"

The more Brendan pressed, the less Naomi answered. After all, he often burdened her with his rumors and scandals.

Brendan locked eyes with her, lit a cigarette, and after seeing her frown, took a puff and extinguished it. "Naomi, don't play dumb. Answer my question."

Naomi smiled, threw aside the pillow, and climbed onto Brendan's lap, putting her arms around his neck. "Brendan, I want a hug." She was drunk and acting on impulse.

She expected anger, but to her surprise, he gently held her waist and pulled her closer. He lifted her chin, smirking. "Feeling guilty, huh? Trying to act cute?"

Naomi pushed his hands away and nuzzled into his neck. "Brendan, I'm so tired. I want to sleep."

Brendan's heart softened. "Naomi, there will be no next time." He wouldn't forgive her easily if she drank so much and was brought home by another man again.

Naomi ignored him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her lips brushed his face. "Brendan, I want a kiss."

Brendan gently pushed her away. "Don't push your luck."

"No kiss?" Naomi sat up. "Then I'll go kiss someone else."

As she stood, Brendan's expression darkened, and he pulled her back. She stumbled into his arms, their foreheads bumped, and their lips met.

Their lips pressed together; Brendan smelled fresh, Naomi of alcohol. She wanted to pull back, but he leaned in, deepening the kiss. She lowered her gaze, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Afterward, she looked at him with blurry eyes. "Brendan, am I sweet?"

Chapter 11