Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game

Chapter 682: Tenderness in the Cold Night

Avery Jane lowered her head with a sorrowful voice, tears slowly seeping from her eyes, crystal clear like they had fallen onto his chest, shocking him.

"Then come to my place, you need to change your clothes properly."

Beckett Wright drove the car towards the hotel. He had returned to the country recently, so he was staying in a hotel suite.

The rooms in top-tier hotels are very beautiful.

Avery Jane had taken a bath. Beckett had already arranged for someone to deliver comfortable women’s clothing. After Avery changed, she sat on the sofa, holding the hot tea Beckett had made for her, the rising steam quickly moistening her eyes again.

She was not someone who cried often, yet this time, her tears seemed as if they never stopped.

"Avery Jane, if you want to talk, I’m a great listener."

Beckett’s gaze was full of tenderness, how could Avery not understand?

But she was no longer deserving of such a man, clean and warm, just like Wenyard.

"It’s nothing, as you can see, I’ve run into some bad situations, encountered some unavoidable people."

Avery’s voice was hoarse, her eyes carried a trace of despair and sorrow.

She didn’t know how life could continue.

"Avery Jane, don’t be so sad, you deserve the best life."

Beckett looked at her face gently, it seemed somewhat abnormally red, the whole person didn’t look quite right, her formerly soft lips were so dry they seemed about to crack.

His hand involuntarily reached out to touch her forehead, oh, so hot.

"Avery Jane, you’re running a fever, I’ll get a doctor for you."

In such cold weather, she was dressed so thinly, staying outside in the wind for so long, how could she not fall ill?

Beckett, in his anxiety, wanted to rush out to get a doctor for her.

"No need, the hotel has medicine, just ask them to bring some antipyretic medicine."

Avery’s eyes started to blur, her head gradually ached with a dull throb, as if a little person was hammering at her skull, she struggled to open her eyes but couldn’t seem to do so.

She was so tired, wanted to sleep, as if falling asleep would mean no more of that evil man, no more threats, no more helplessness.

The hotel medicine couldn’t ease Beckett’s worry; he still called a doctor.

After the fever injection, he watched as Avery slept on the snow-white, soft bed.

She was so petite, maybe because of the medication, she slowly began to sweat finely, her lips still remained unnaturally red.

He sighed softly, returned to the bathroom to wet a towel, sat at the bedside, carefully wiped away her sweat, parted the strands of hair drenched with sweat, and several dark marks resembling acorns suddenly came into his view, shocking.

His mind echoed with Avery’s words, she said she met bad things, encountered people who were unavoidable.

At that banquet, attendees were either rich or noble. Who did she encounter that would torment her to such a state?

"Don’t, don’t be like this..." Beckett gently touched her cheek, Avery in her dream looked like a startled little beast, murmuring, furrowing her brow slightly, gently shaking her little head, sleeping restlessly.

What kind of a man could be so vile to make such a fragile woman anxious and fearful even in her dreams?

A small place in his heart seemed to have been cracked open by a tear at the corner of her eye, slowly breaking apart, carrying a bit of joy, yet also infinite pain.

He remembered when he just called her, that nearly crying yet forcibly endured voice.

With a hint of despair and confusion, like an animal trapped in a pitfall, making him rush out from the venue to find her.

Even if she wasn’t far from him, he still stepped on the gas hard to find her.

The wind was strong at night, as his car lights illuminated her figure, his heart involuntarily ached, she was wrapped in a thin, shabby shawl, shrunk into a small ball in the cold night wind, her little face pale as a snow-white wall, even tinged with blue, dull and lifeless.

He was really damned, seeing such poor complexion, should have known she wasn’t feeling well.

Her sharp chin rested on the pillow, her closed eyes trembled lightly from not sleeping soundly, occasionally opening, gazed at him blankly for a moment, said nothing, then sank back into slumber.

"So cold..." she murmured faintly, Beckett adjusted the temperature of the air conditioner, warm air blew gently, contrasting starkly with the deep coldness outside like ink.