Sebastian brought Sasha up to the third floor.
Perhaps he was worried that the two kids would disturb her rest if he brought her to the second floor, or
perhaps he felt uneasy about leaving her alone.
So, he decided to bring her to the bedroom on the third floor.
The exact same room that no woman had ever slept in for many years.
“Mr. Hayes, is… is Ms. Wand alright? Should we call a doctor?”
Wendy, roused from her sleep by the commotion, had come upstairs to see what was happening.
But Sebastian just shook his head and tucked Sasha into his bed, ignoring the filthy state she was in.
“Do you need something from me?”
“N-no… I think Mr. Matteo just got home, so I’ll be downstairs to take care of him,” Wendy said
hurriedly.
It was only then that Sebastian remembered his son.
Glancing down at the sleeping woman in his bed, he furrowed his eyebrows together as he told Wendy,
“Okay. Tell him to take a bath and change his clothes, and that Daddy will be there to see him in a
minute.”
He had an obligation to explain everything that had happened tonight to the little brat.
If not, there was no telling whether their father-son relationship could still be salvaged.
After Wendy went back downstairs, Sebastian took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, retrieving a
first-aid kit from his study.
The lights in the third-floor bedroom were kept on throughout the long, silent night.
The next day.
Wendy prepared a hearty breakfast before going upstairs to wake her employer up.
“Mr. Hayes…? Did you sleep in there last night?”
She arrived at the third floor, surprised to see Sebastian exit the study with heavy dark circles
underneath his eyes.
What happened?
Isn’t Ms. Wand technically still his wife? Why is he avoiding her?
Wendy couldn’t wrap her head around the situation.
Sebastian stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Wendy, the light returning to his eyes at the sight
of her. With a loud “crash”, he kicked the door to his bedroom open.
“You came just in time. Clean up in there, it’s nasty!”
A sour stench was, in fact, wafting out from Sebastian’s expensive, luxurious bedroom.
Rushing into the room, she discovered blankets thrown carelessly onto the floor and several vomit
stains on the sheets.
Vomit?
What happened here? Did Ms. Wand throw up?
Wait, where is Ms. Wand? If she’s not here, then…
“Mr. Hayes… Where’s Ms. Wand?” Wendy spoke up.
“In the study!” spat Sebastian, his eyes bloodshot.
“Huh? The study?”
“Her fever didn’t go down at all and she kept vomiting all night. As a result, the bed got dirty, so I
dumped her in the study room. When you’re done cleaning up, call a doctor for her,” explained
Sebastian impatiently, grabbing a random bathrobe from his closet before leaving to take a shower.
Wendy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
How childish.
She peeked into the neighboring study.
Sure enough, Sasha was clumsily wrapped up in a blanket and lying on the sofa, the heating system in
the room on full blast.
Her face looked as pale as a sheet of paper, possibly due to her illness.
So did Mr. Hayes watch over her for the entire night?
Suppressing her amusement, she quickly switched out the dirty sheets in the bedroom for new ones,
then went down to make a phone call.
Ten minutes later, Sebastian came out of the washroom.
He barely got a wink of sleep last night and hadn’t even showered himself properly like usual, thinking
that he could relax after Sasha had been given some medicine and fell asleep.
But she suddenly started talking nonsense in her sleep, going on and on about having never murdered
someone.
Her forehead was scalding hot when he touched it, and she began throwing up not long after that.
Although, he wasn’t too surprised that Sasha fell sick in the first place. After all, she had suffered from
immense shock and the brunt of the cold weather all day yesterday, and was also locked up inside a
holding cell with no source of warmth.
If anything, he’d be more surprised if she hadn’t gotten sick.
Sebastian blow-dried his hair and sprayed some perfume onto his skin, relieved at finally having gotten
rid of the stench of vomit.
Picking up his car keys and getting ready to head out, he slowed down while passing by the second
floor on his way down. After having some second thoughts, he strode over to one of the bedrooms.
“Matt? It’s Daddy, are you awake yet?” he said, knocking on his son’s door.
Because he was too busy looking after Sasha last night, he couldn’t fulfill his promise of having a
proper talk with Matteo.
So, he had to set things right with the kid as soon as possible.
After a few knocks, he heard the sound of cloth rustling followed by light footsteps. The bedroom door
creaked open ever so slightly, and Matteo peeked out through the tiny gap.
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