Chapter 178: The Sweet Little Scher Himself
The way Victoria Frost softened over that call made Naomi’s imagination start sprinting in the wrong direction.
If the person on the other end had been the man of the Frost household, Naomi would not have been surprised at all.
Except Victoria’s husband had been dead for years.
Had Mrs. Frost found soone new?
Naomi was still spinning out useless theories when Victoria ended the call and looked straight at her.
Naomi’s breath caught. She imdiately turned her eyes away and pretended she had heard absolutely nothing.
Victoria watched her for a mont.
Then she gave a small wave of her hand. "Take Giselle with you."
Naomi froze again.
Victoria’s attitude earlier had seed gentle, but there had been steel under it. She had clearly not wanted Giselle leaving the gala. Now she had changed her mind after one phone call.
So it really was the call.
Naomi did not waste ti thinking about it. Before Victoria could regret anything, she grabbed Giselle’s arm and tried to pull her up.
"Co on. We’re not staying here. Let’s go have fun."
Unfortunately, getting Victoria’s permission was not the hardest part.
No matter how Naomi coaxed her, tugged at her, or tried to talk her into moving, Giselle refused to stand. She only gave two cold, simple words.
"I’m not going."
Naomi almost laughed from pure irritation.
So this was how she wanted to play it?
Fine. Giselle had forced her to use the big move.
Naomi let go and waved her hand like she had given up. "Whatever. Don’t co, then. If Elias weren’t at my place right now, I wouldn’t bother calling you over anyway."
Before Naomi even finished speaking, Giselle shot up from her chair.
Her dull eyes locked onto Naomi.
After a long pause, she said slowly, "I’ll go."
Naomi stared back at her and noticed that a little light had returned to Giselle’s eyes.
Her mouth twitched.
Was this the legendary power of love?
Once they were in the car, Giselle finally spoke.
"Why is he at your place?"
Naomi almost answered, then noticed sothing strange.
Giselle was too calm.
Naomi glanced sideways at her. "He’s at my place, and you’re that relaxed?"
Seriously. Did she look like so pure-hearted lady of perfect restraint? After hearing that Elias had spent the night at Naomi’s apartnt, Giselle had not shown even a trace of anger. Anyone watching from the outside might have thought Giselle was the man in this situation, or that Elias was the woman.
Giselle only gave her a faint look.
"You can’t do anything to him."
In Giselle’s mind, Elias was the kind of boy who did not even fear death. If Serena had not held leverage over him, Giselle believed he never would have handed over his innocence so easily.
Naomi understood the look on Giselle’s face at once.
So this was total trust.
Did Giselle realize that if Naomi had a little less self-control, Elias would have been dragged into bed already?
Naomi sat with that thought for a second, then adjusted her mood.
What did she care? She was here to watch the show.
She had paid five hundred thousand dollars for a front-row seat, so she intended to enjoy the view.
After a while, Giselle started asking questions.
"Did Serena co looking for him?"
"Was he kicked out?"
"How is he now?"
Naomi quickly cut her off. "Stop, stop. Seriously, don’t ask anymore. I’m not an encyclopedia. You won’t get the answers out of anyway. We’re almost there. When you see Elias, ask him yourself, okay?"
That finally shut Giselle up.
The rest of the ride passed in silence.
When they reached Naomi’s building, both of them got out. Naomi led the way toward the elevator.
"Co on."
Inside the elevator, Naomi finally started wondering what Elias was planning this ti.
Then she thought about the way Giselle had looked earlier, empty and dim, and decided she should pay attention. If Elias was going to ss with Giselle again, Naomi would have to make sure he did not go too far.
After all, Naomi was the one taking Giselle out of that gala.
If sothing happened to Giselle afterward, Victoria would absolutely make Naomi part of the problem.
The elevator doors slid open.
The motion-sensor lights flickered on.
Naomi stepped forward, then stopped.
Giselle stopped too.
Outside Naomi’s apartnt door, a figure was crouched on the floor, curled into a small ball.
It was Elias.
His eyes were closed, and he looked like he had fallen asleep right there in the hallway. His brows were faintly drawn together, giving him a pitiful, fragile look that made the scene hard to ignore.
Naomi was still staring when Giselle turned and looked at her.
That look was cold enough to cut.
There was accusation in it.
Naomi went silent.
Fine. She was done. If Giselle let Elias play her to death, then let it happen. So people simply could not be saved.
Even so, Naomi had to admit Elias had Giselle completely trapped.
Naomi had already given him the door code. He could have gone inside whenever he wanted. Instead, he had stayed out here on purpose, curled up like so abandoned little thing, waiting for Giselle to see him.
All to make Giselle feel sorry for him.
Naomi could not find a better word for him than sweet little scher.
No, even that was too weak.
He was the sweet little scher himself.
They finally stepped out of the elevator.
As they got closer, Giselle saw Elias’s face tucked between his knees.
The impact hit her hard.
She froze where she stood.
Naomi noticed and frowned.
Was Giselle really this heartbroken because Elias had slept in the hallway? That seed excessive, even for her.
What Naomi did not know was that Giselle’s heart had begun to shake.
Elias had always looked like Lucien.
After Serena’s styling, the resemblance had beco unbearable.
Now, crouched there in the hallway, half asleep under the pale light, he looked almost identical.
Giselle’s vision blurred for an instant.
Another figure seed to appear over him, folding together with the boy in front of her until they were impossible to separate.
He was him.
Then Elias’s eyes moved slightly.
The hallway light was bright, and two people were approaching him. Waking this late was already slower than his usual reaction.
Under both their gazes, Elias slowly opened his eyes.
They were clean, slightly damp, and soft under the light, like clear glass ward by morning sun.
He looked up at Giselle.
For a second, he seed stunned.
Then he lifted a hand and rubbed at his eyes, as if making sure she was real.
"Giselle," he murmured, "why are you here?"
He tried to stand.
But he had been crouching too long. The mont he got up, the blood rushed wrong, his vision blackened, and his footing gave out.
He stumbled forward.
Naomi and Giselle both reached for him almost at the sa ti, but Giselle was faster.
Elias fell into her arms.
He stayed there until he found his balance again. Only then did he slowly lift his head.
"Thank you," he said softly. "You really ca."
Giselle said nothing.
Elias had confird that she was real.
But the illusion in Giselle’s mind shattered.
Not the sa.
Not the sa at all.
His eyes, his voice, the way he looked at her, none of it truly belonged to Lucien.
Giselle stayed silent.
Then she noticed sothing.
Her pupils trembled.
Her gaze lowered, bit by bit, until it landed on Elias’s mouth.
His lips were full and reddened, swollen in a way that made the reason difficult to ignore.
Then there was his neck.
Beneath the open edge of his collar, pale skin carried a ss of red marks, layered and uneven, too vivid to explain away.
They were the sa color as his mouth.
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