CHAPTER 193: CHAPTER 193: APPEASING

The scar was still fresh, very prominent under the light.

Holly’s gaze was instantly fixed on that scar!

She remembered the accident not long ago.

Back then, he recklessly drove over, using his own car and body to shield her from the falling, deadly billboard.

Was this scar left from that time?

Left for saving her.

The servant had already brought a blanket and waited by the side. Seeing the two come ashore, Auntie Ward quickly wrapped little Sinclair tightly with a blanket.

She looked at Blake Sinclair, who was also drenched, standing there dripping with water, and cried out with concern, "Oh dear! Blake! Quickly! Quickly put the blanket on! The doctor reminded you that you just recovered, you mustn’t catch a cold!"

Holly’s hand moved faster than her mind, as she swiftly grabbed the blanket handed over by a nearby servant and wrapped the drenched Blake Sinclair.

Her fingertips touched his icy skin, and her heart tightened again.

Blake Sinclair felt her action and was slightly taken aback.

Then he tightly grasped her hand that was helping him wrap the blanket and leaned towards her.

His hair was still dripping, with droplets falling on her gown, spreading small wet spots.

"Holly,"

his voice had a hint of hoarseness, "Sinclair is fine, don’t worry, I’m fine too."

The surrounding guests were all stunned; no one expected Blake Sinclair to have such a "vulnerable" side.

Shirley Sinclair was soon carried back by the servant for a hot bath.

Laurel Sinclair was about to go in, but as she lifted her eyes, she caught sight of Sebastian Shaw, who was still standing by the poolside, equally soaked.

He stood in the shadows by the shore, with wet black hair hanging over his forehead.

He seemed somewhat lost, raising a hand to brush the dripping hair off his forehead, revealing deep-set eyes.

"Take President Shaw to the guest room to change clothes," Laurel Sinclair said.

A few servants immediately stepped forward and respectfully said to Sebastian Shaw, "President Shaw, please follow us."

But Sebastian Shaw stood still, just staring at Laurel Sinclair, his eyes filled with confusion.

Laurel Sinclair suddenly realized something.

She hesitated for a moment, then made a "change clothes" gesture towards him.

There was a flash of understanding in Sebastian Shaw’s eyes, and he slowly nodded.

His hearing aid had fallen into the water.

When he heard someone shout, "Sinclair fell into the water," he almost instinctively jumped in.

As he grabbed Sinclair’s hand, a sharp tinnitus suddenly struck, and he couldn’t hear anything.

The hearing aid had fallen into the pool.

Without the hearing aid, his world instantly became silent.

He couldn’t hear the shouts of the people around him, couldn’t hear Laurel Sinclair’s voice, couldn’t hear the servants’ voices either.

He felt like someone trapped under a glass dome, able to see everything outside but unable to communicate with it.

But he understood Laurel Sinclair’s gesture.

As Sebastian Shaw turned to leave with the servant, he couldn’t help but glance back at Laurel Sinclair’s figure.

She wore a red floor-length gown, with the hem fluttering in the evening breeze like a blazing flame.

In his heart, it felt like there was also a fire burning, a fire that hurt intensely.

Returning to the room, Blake Sinclair quickly took a hot shower.

He emerged wearing gray loungewear, with freshly blow-dried hair lying obediently over his forehead.

Holly saw him come out and walked over with the red sugar ginger tea Auntie Ward had just brewed, "Drink this to ward off the cold."

Blake Sinclair didn’t immediately take the bowl but instead grabbed her wrist.

He raised his eyes to look at her from below, and those amber eyes seemed to have been washed by water, a clarity mixed with a hint of pleading.

"What are you doing? Don’t spill it. Are you going to drink or not?"

Holly struggled but couldn’t break free.

Looking at his still somewhat pale face, thinking of the scar on his chest and Auntie Ward’s words, she ultimately couldn’t bear to forcibly shake him off.

Her tone was still stern, but not as icy as before.

"I will. I’ll listen to you."

Blake Sinclair said softly, with a hint of appeasement.

But he didn’t loosen his grip; instead, he lowered his head slightly, brought the edge of the bowl to his mouth, and drank slowly in sips.

He drank slowly, his light breath brushing against her wrist.

Holly looked at his obedient demeanor, her emotions a complex mix.

The anger from being deceived was still there, but the pity, worry, and the love he had proven with his life, had never vanished.

The bowl of ginger tea soon reached the bottom.

It warmed his body and comforted his heart.

"It’s very sweet," Blake Sinclair raised his head, looking at her with a focused gaze.

"Auntie Ward made it, she added sugar, so of course it’s sweet." Holly looked away, trying to pull her hand back, but he held it even tighter.

"Holly, you once said you’d give me a chance to make amends. Does that still hold true now?" he asked.

Faced with his apprehensive eyes, Holly fell silent for a moment.

"Blake Sinclair, you’ve lied to me several times already. How can I still believe you?"

Blake Sinclair tightly held her hand, with utmost seriousness, "This time, I will tell you everything—all the good, the bad, the despicable, the unbearable. Everything, completely without reservation. I only ask you to believe me one last time."

Outside the window, the night was deep.

The air in the room was still filled with the sweet aroma of red sugar ginger tea.

Their clasped hands transmitted each other’s warmth.

Looking at the sincerity in his eyes, Holly gently nodded.

Blake Sinclair suddenly hugged her tightly, holding her close.

"Holly, thank you, thank you..."

His voice was choked with emotion, "I won’t disappoint you again, never again."

Holly leaned against his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his body wash, and her heart finally felt at peace.

...

Blake Sinclair’s fear was never about Holly remembering those sealed past events, but about her recalling that afternoon when he failed to show up as promised, causing her to become prey on a trafficker’s vehicle.

That was a thorn buried in his heart for ten years, each memory of it driving deeper.

When he left Cromwellford back then, they had agreed to meet once more before Holly started school and to attend her opening ceremony.

But he ultimately missed that appointment.

On the eagerly awaited morning of that day, he left with a gift.

He had found a Su embroidery master to embroider the swallow she drew in her notebook onto a scarf intended for her.

But unexpectedly, several uncles barged in and blocked the door.

"Blake, are you faking that wheelchair?"

They stared intently at his legs, ready to exploit any flaw to suppress Ian Sinclair.

At that time, Laurel Sinclair and Ian Sinclair had both been diverted, and those people even threatened him to stand up, using an aunt in the household.

He could only go along with their trap, deliberately falling down the stairs in front of everyone.

As the intense pain hit, what flashed in his mind was not his own injury but that little girl, wondering if she would cry again.

When he awoke from the haze, the sun had already set, and the appointed time had long passed.

Disregarding the doctor’s obstruction, he rushed to Port Kallow despite his injuries.

Yet, shortly after leaving the hospital, his car was trailed.

To shake off the tail, the bodyguard’s car switched lanes, only to accidentally collide with a minivan on the roadside.

The minivan driver was also panicked and mistakenly turned the wheel, causing the vehicle to plunge into the river.

By the time he reached Port Kallow, only the wind was whirling fallen leaves on the ground.

Holly was gone, the entire house empty.

It wasn’t until later that he learned from the police that the minivan they hit belonged to a trafficker gang, and Holly was inside that vehicle.