Entangled in the Night: Unable to Escape Him-Chapter 197: I’m Your Limited Edition

Caden Sinclair’s breath was scorching, so hot it made Lucy Rhodes’s earlobes tingle.

And with the lazy lilt in his voice as he spoke, he was like an alluring male siren, impossible to resist.

Lucy’s heart fluttered in chaos. Her eyelashes trembled uncontrollably as she stammered, "W-who stole anything? We’ve always used protection, okay?"

Caden pinched her chin. "Are you blaming me? That’s easy to fix. Tonight, let’s go bare—no disguises."

Without another word, he bent down, swept her up, and strode into the bedroom.

Lucy sensed danger. Panic rose in her chest and she struggled fiercely: "Caden Sinclair, put me down! I’m not going to the bedroom."

Caden arched an eyebrow. "You still want the bathroom? Didn’t you say the bathtub is too hard and not convenient for you to show off?"

That one sentence instantly brought back all of Lucy’s memories.

He’d pressed her into the bathtub, devouring her endlessly until she couldn’t take it anymore and finally begged him to stop.

She’d come up with that excuse just to prove she was the one who’d slept with Caden.

She hadn’t expected this bastard to remember so clearly.

Seeing her fall silent, Caden let out a low, husky laugh from his throat. "If you like the bathroom, we can put some towels down later."

Before Lucy could react, he had already carried her into the bathroom.

One second, he was setting her gently down on the sink counter; the next, a sharp ’rip’ sounded by her ear—her dress had been torn apart.

Revealing her tantalizing curves.

Furious, Lucy smacked Caden. "Can’t you be gentler? You already tore one of my dresses yesterday, and today you ripped another! Do you know these are all limited edition pieces I just bought?"

Caden lowered his head to bite her lip. "I’m your newly acquired limited edition too—aren’t you going to try me out?"

Before he finished, his mouth sealed over Lucy’s lips.

Fiery lips, burning breaths, lingering kisses—Lucy lost all control in an instant.

The air in the bathroom became thick with ambiguous heat.

Low, sultry moans filled every corner of the room with heady shyness.

The night was still young...

——

Sienna had just finished an operation and walked into the office, when she saw a familiar figure.

She approached and asked, "Assistant Paxton, is something wrong with the corporation?"

Owen Paxton scratched his head awkwardly. "Miss Paxton, how is President Prescott’s recovery going? I’ve been calling him, but he never answers. There are some things with the group I’d like to report to him."

Sienna pressed her lips together. "He doesn’t understand anything right now. Even if you report to him, it’s useless—he’ll only get anxious, which isn’t good for his recovery. Didn’t Grandfather hand the group over to you?"

"He did, but the president’s been absent too long. A lot of shareholders are starting to doubt that President Prescott will ever recover. They want to install a new heir."

Sienna’s expression was steady. "If they can find someone in the Prescott family as capable as Silas Prescott, then it doesn’t matter who becomes president. Silas is still recovering and shouldn’t be drawn into competition."

"Is President Prescott showing no signs of improvement? He still can’t remember anything?"

"That’s right. Right now, he only has the intelligence of a ten-year-old child. He’s in no condition to handle the corporate struggles. For now, please make all decisions yourself, Assistant Paxton. I believe he trusts you."

Owen’s fingers curled involuntarily in his pocket at her words.

But his voice remained calm: "I’ll do my best. Please take good care of President Prescott. I hope he recovers soon."

With that, he turned and left.

As soon as he got in the car, a voice sounded from the back seat. "Are you sure Silas Prescott really hasn’t improved?"

Owen nodded. "I’m sure."

"Good. At next week’s shareholders’ meeting, I’ll bring you and show the paternity test between you and Henry Prescott. I’ll see that you become the company president."

There wasn’t a trace of joy on Owen’s face; instead, an indescribable look flickered in his eyes.

Sienna stood on the balcony, just in time to witness this scene.

Why was Owen Paxton so close to Silas Prescott’s mother?

Could it really be as Lucy Rhodes suspected—they were conspiring to seize what belonged to Silas?

That possibility made Sienna pick up the phone and call Nathaniel Thorne.

"Nathaniel, I need you to look into someone for me."

"Who?"

"Silas Prescott’s assistant, Owen Paxton. I’m worried he’ll betray Silas."

Nathaniel hesitated a moment before asking, "Sienna, are you sure you want to get tangled up in the Prescott power struggle? In these wealthy family feuds, it’s either kill or be skinned alive. Last time, you nearly died."

Sienna’s voice was firm. "The Prescott family raised me. Now that they’re in trouble, I have a responsibility to help."

"Is it responsibility or love, Sienna? Do you really know your heart?"

Sienna had asked herself this question too. At first, she agreed not to leave Silas because she wanted to heal his psychological wounds.

What she felt for Silas was more than love. There was family, too.

She didn’t know if she was acting out of love, or to repay the Prescotts’ kindness.

On the way home, Sienna kept wrestling with this question.

When she opened the door, the warm aroma of food swept over her.

It was the scent of tomato beef noodles she knew so well.

Back when they were in college, Silas used to make this for her all the time.

She remembered it clearly: That night, they’d been together for so long that, in the end, she was so wrung out she just collapsed in Silas’s arms.

Her stomach had rumbled in protest.

Silas had laughed and kissed her belly. "Sienna, after everything I just fed you, you’re still hungry?"

Sienna shot him a glare. "I want real food."

"Alright. What do you want to eat? I’ll cook for you."

"Tomato beef noodles, and add a fried egg."

Silas stroked her cheek. "Okay, wait here. I’ll make it for you."

That was Silas’s first time cooking. He followed a video he’d found online.

From then on, those noodles became his specialty.

He was always making it as a midnight snack for Sienna.

Now he was making them again. Did that mean some of his memories were coming back?

The thought sent Sienna rushing into the kitchen, not even bothering to change out of her shoes.

She stared at the pot of tomato beef noodles. "Silas, what did you remember this time?"

Silas put down what he was holding and drew her into his arms, dropping a kiss on her lips. "I remembered us eating these noodles together a lot. Usually after we’d finished...with each other."

The last words were murmured against Sienna’s ear.

A shiver of electricity shot straight from Sienna’s ear down her spine.

Memories flashed in her mind, making her body tremble. "You better not get any ideas."

Silas chuckled low. "I mean, after we made noodles and ate them together. Sienna, why is your face so red? What did you think I meant, making love?"

He nipped Sienna’s earlobe. "If you want, Sienna, I’ll be happy to oblige."