Chapter 241

"Ah!"

Before Emily Smith could finish speaking, her wrist was suddenly seized by a strong grip.

She stumbled forward, caught off guard.

The next second, her cheek collided with William Johnson's firm chest. Worse, the hand he held was pressed directly against a certain sensitive part of him.

The sensation beneath her palm changed instantly.

She jerked her hand back as if electrocuted, struggling to pull away.

"Hiss—"

William sucked in a sharp breath, his voice hoarse. "You'll break it."

She hastily moved her hand, but the abrupt motion only pressed her closer against him. His arm tightened around her waist, locking her in place.

"William Johnson!"

"Dinner tonight," he murmured with a low chuckle, his alcohol-laced breath hot against her ear, "was very much to my taste."

A shiver ran down Emily's spine, electric tingles spreading through her.

"Let me go," she gritted out.

His arm didn't budge.

"Keep moving," his voice dropped even lower, "and I won't be able to hold back."

She turned her head to glare at him, meeting eyes dark with smoldering fire. Her flushed face was clearly reflected in his pupils.

"You've finished eating. You should leave," she forced out, feigning composure.

William's Adam's apple bobbed as he laughed, restrained.

"Have you thought about it?" he suddenly asked.

"About what?"

"Being my girlfriend."

Emily averted her face. "Impossible."

"You did fine before."

"Before?" She scoffed. "I was just your plaything."

William's gaze turned icy in an instant, and he released her.

Emily immediately sprang away, striding toward the bedroom without looking back.

The sound of the door closing echoed behind her.

Leaning against the doorframe, her legs trembled weakly.

......

After her voice recovered, Emily returned to the recording studio.

News came from the hospital—her sister's surgery plan was finalized. But Professor Schievink presented a dilemma: they needed a new type of medical device not yet available in the country.

"Two options," the professor adjusted his glasses. "Buy the equipment, or have the surgery in the U.S."

"How much does the equipment cost?"

"Over six million dollars."

Emily's fingertips turned cold.

"And if we go to the U.S.?"

"There are risks," the professor stated bluntly. "Changes in intracranial pressure during the flight could displace the blood clot."

She clenched the medical records. "Give me two days to decide."

Leaving the hospital, she numbly boarded a bus.

When she finally snapped out of her daze, the towering BestTech Building loomed outside the window.