Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Younger Uncle Is Her Death Exemption Token
The next morning, Ivy Sherwood woke up to an unfamiliar environment.
It was a large room. The furnishings looked simple, yet they had a classical charm.
The comforter and bed were incredibly soft and smelled of warm sunshine.
’Where am I?’
Her head still felt a little foggy. She sat up in bed and went to rub her eyes, only then discovering the bandages wrapped around her palm.
She remembered everything that had happened last night at the restaurant, and in the restroom.
She had been clutching a knife, desperately protecting herself. Then her consciousness had faded, and it seemed like someone had burst in.
Her body felt normal; it seemed nothing untoward had happened last night.
’So, who saved me?’
Ivy Sherwood got out of bed and walked toward the door.
When she opened it, a maid was standing right outside.
"Miss, you’re awake. Mr. Blackwood asked me to show you to the washroom."
Ivy Sherwood froze for a moment. "Mr. Blackwood? Quentin Blackwood?"
’Quentin Blackwood saved me?’
’Didn’t he leave Lustre? He didn’t go!’
An intense joy she hadn’t even noticed herself began to spread in her heart, and her bright eyes lit up with happiness.
"Yes," the maid replied.
"Where is he?"
"At this hour, Mr. Blackwood should be exercising in the workout room."
"Where is the workout room?"
The maid pointed in one direction, and without a second thought, Ivy Sherwood ran that way.
Working out every morning was a must for Quentin Blackwood.
Quentin Blackwood didn’t even let his workout time go to waste, taking an international call.
Ivy simply watched the man on the treadmill through the glass.
His proportions were superb. Quentin Blackwood’s legs were exceptionally long, and the muscles in them tensed as he ran.
The muscles in his arms rippled, and the Buddha Beads on his wrist clinked together, making a low sound.
Ivy remembered how, in her hazy state last night, a pair of arms seemed to have held her just like that, filling her with a profound sense of security.
Sweat trickled down his cheeks, exuding an ultimate sexiness.
Despite exercising, his voice remained perfectly steady, without a hint of breathlessness. His fluent English was free of any accent, and his deep voice was magnetic.
’He really is handsome, captivating like a god descended to the mortal realm.’
Ivy watched him through the glass, knowing full well that as wonderful as this man was, she could not fall for him. To do so would mean eternal damnation.
They weren’t from the same world. Perhaps it was a momentary act of kindness; for him, saving her was a trivial effort. Besides, he probably just didn’t want to get entangled with her.
After all, the first time they’d slept together, Quentin Blackwood had given her that valuable painting. By saving her now, he was probably writing off the other two times as well.
Although Ivy didn’t care about these things—she had enjoyed herself, after all—for a rich man, the biggest fears were trouble and future entanglements. Add to that their relationship as uncle-in-law and nephew’s fiancée, and according to Quentin Blackwood’s methods, he would definitely handle it.
This lifesaving act was most likely a way to shut her up.
Ivy felt this was the only logical explanation. Otherwise, why would Quentin Blackwood meddle in her affairs?
’After all, his personality is to never get involved in things that don’t concern him.’
Perhaps Ivy’s gaze was too intense. Quentin Blackwood, exercising inside, turned his head and his eyes met Ivy’s before she had a chance to look away.
Ivy had no choice but to wave, a small greeting.
She saw Quentin Blackwood’s lips move, as if saying goodbye to the person on the phone. Then she saw him turn off the treadmill, take off his Bluetooth earpiece, and walk toward the door.
"Uncle!" Ivy walked over as well.
"Thank you for helping me last night, Uncle." Counting this time, Quentin Blackwood had helped her quite a few times now.
’Looking at Ivy’s face, still his masterpiece from last night, he wondered how she would react when she saw herself in a mirror.’
An image of that stunning, city-toppling beauty flashed through Quentin Blackwood’s mind, and for a moment, he forgot to move.
Ivy touched her face. "Is there something on my face?"
He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "Nothing. You’re practically one of the Blackwoods. The nephew’s wife should be a little smarter in the future."
’Is he reminding me of my status and calling me stupid at the same time?’
Ivy immediately changed the subject. "Uncle, you didn’t go back to Aethelgard?"
"Who said I went back to Aethelgard? Were you looking for me?"
Ivy had indeed gone looking for him, but she had no intention of telling Quentin that.
Ivy shook her head. "No, I just guessed. But you and I really are fated to meet, Uncle. We even ended up at the same restaurant. I’ll remember your kindness. If you ever need my help in the future, I won’t refuse!"
’Though it’s not like Quentin Blackwood would ever need her help.’
Suddenly remembering something, Ivy said, "Uncle, wait for me a second!"
She ran back to the room she’d just been in. She remembered her bag was there.
Ivy opened her bag, took something out, and quickly ran back to the workout room.
Quentin Blackwood hadn’t left. He was just tilting his head back, wiping his face and neck with a towel.
The curve of his chin and neck, the bob of his Adam’s apple—it all made one’s heart race.
Ivy walked over, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing. "I said last time that I’d give you a bottle of perfume when I saw you again, Uncle. I blended this myself. I hope you don’t mind."
Ivy had been carrying it with her all this time. She was never sure when she might see Quentin Blackwood; it all came down to luck.
Quentin had said she was wearing some kind of perfume, but Ivy really hadn’t sprayed anything. She didn’t know what scent she naturally had.
But if Quentin liked it, she would try to recreate it.
It was a cool, clean floral scent, not cloyingly sweet. The top note was like a spring breeze on the skin, the middle note seeped into the heart, and the base note was intriguing and long-lasting.
Ivy had given the fragrance a name herself: First Encounter.
Quentin Blackwood took the perfume. "You’ve been carrying this around?"
"I don’t have your contact information, Uncle, so I could only try my luck. I never knew when I’d see you, and it’s not heavy, so I just carried it with me."
For some reason, something seemed to brush across Quentin’s heart, leaving a ticklish feeling.
His gaze lowered, his throat tightening. "Give me your phone."
Ivy unlocked her phone and handed it over.
Quentin’s well-defined fingers tapped on the screen before he quickly handed the phone back to Ivy.
"Don’t call unless it’s important."
Only then did Ivy see it—a string of numbers!
’It’s Quentin Blackwood’s phone number!’
"I definitely won’t bother you, Uncle!"
Ivy quickly saved it, adding a contact name: Death Exemption Token.
It seemed that whenever Quentin Blackwood was around, no harm could come to her.
’What kind of rule is that?’
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