50: Chapter 50: Will You Really Be My Savior?
50: Chapter 50: Will You Really Be My Savior?
“If you need anything, just let me know, and someone will prepare it for you.”
Everything will be prepared?
Why did she feel that…he had been considering inviting her to his home all along?
They were halfway through the ride.
Unable to resist sleep any longer, Joanna dozed off in the car.
Her head rested against the window, and perhaps because this position was somewhat uncomfortable, her brows occasionally furrowed in her sleep.
Several times, her head bumped against the window with a dull ‘thud’.
Ashton Heath was handling some emails on his laptop.
Before he even finished, he turned his head towards the sound next to him and took a glance.
Seeing the sleeping girl with furrowed brows, Ashton closed his laptop, massaged the space between his brows and murmured quietly, “Zack, slow down a bit.”
After putting his laptop to the side, Ashton extended his hand and gently lifted the sleeping Joanna over to him, adjusting her position so that she was lying across his lap.
Then, he draped the jacket he had taken off over her.
A few strands of hair had fallen across her eyes.
He brushed them aside and looked down at her for a few seconds, his large hand on her fair cheek, touching her delicate features gently.
His slender pale fingers grazed over the girl’s beautiful features.
A hint of expectation appeared in his deep, cold eyes as he softly murmured, “Denver Lancaster says you could be my saviour.
Are you really my saviour?”
Zack happened to witness this tender moment, and he was so shocked that his hand trembled, causing the black Rolls-Royce to momentarily veer off track, almost hitting the guardrail next to it.
Frantic, he quickly corrected the steering wheel, his forehead breaking out in a cold sweat.
The movement of Ashton’s hand caressing Joanna’s cheek paused, he looked up, his icy gaze narrowed and he warned in a deep voice, “Be careful.”
Zack wiped his cold sweat, no longer daring to be distracted.
The black Rolls-Royce drove into a luxurious mansion located halfway up the mountain in the suburbs.
The heavy Carved Copper Gate opened slowly, and the security guard in the guardhouse at the entrance saluted the people inside the car.
Tall sycamore trees lined either side of the road, and the expansive well-maintained turf was neat and orderly.
The Rolls-Royce then drove forward, finally stopping next to a fountain.
Having parked the car, Zack got out and walked around to open the back door.
As Ashton got out, the butler Rowan came forward immediately, bowing at a right angle and respectfully said, “Good evening, Mr.
Ashton nodded slightly, leaned into the car, reaching to lift the sleeping Joanna out.
When he emerged from the car again holding Joanna, Rowan was taken aback, his eyes wide open in shock.
As if he had just heard that the apocalypse was upon them, his face conveyed disbelief.
Was he seeing things?!
He felt a considerable shock.
He quickly turned to look at Zack, his eyes questioning what was happening.
Zack returned his gaze implying, yes, it is exactly as you see.
He felt out of sorts.
That afternoon he had received a call from Mr.
Ashton, instructing him to buy some women’s personal items.
At that time, he didn’t think much of it and assumed that Mrs.
Heath or Madam Heath would be visiting for a while.
But who would have thought, the woman was neither Mrs.
Heath nor Madam Heath.
It was the woman in Mr.