Chapter 3
Carol's POV
Ever since that accidental contact in the storage room, Ronald Sterling had completely disappeared.
One week, two weeks, three weeks...
Every morning at eight o'clock, the children would press their faces against the window waiting, only to turn away disappointed at nine.
"Mommy, is Uncle not coming anymore?" Aria asked softly, tears welling in her eyes.
"Did we do something wrong?" Orion had become dejected too, losing interest even in his favorite video games.
Only Kai maintained a brave facade, but I could see his tense little shoulders and the way his eyes occasionally drifted toward the door.
Maybe this is for the best... I kept telling myself. He'll never come back, and our lives can return to normal.
But during quiet nights, I couldn't help but look out the window, hoping to catch sight of that tall figure.
How contradictory I am...
Three weeks later, on another stormy night, I had just closed the coffee shop and was heading home when I realized I'd forgotten to take the trash bags to the dumpster in the back alley.
The rain was heavy, fat droplets pounding the pavement. I grabbed an umbrella and dragged the heavy trash bags toward the alley.
"Hey there, beautiful. Out here all alone this late?"
A slurred voice emerged from the darkness. My heart clenched as I quickened my pace.
"Don't walk away so fast!" The drunk stumbled after me. "How about having a drink with me?"
I gripped my umbrella tighter, trying to stay calm. "Sir, please leave me alone. I need to get home."
"Don't be so cold!" The drunk suddenly grabbed my arm, alcohol reeking from his breath. "A woman out here this late must be pretty lonely, right?"
"Let go of me!" I struggled to break free, but he was strong.
"Screaming won't help—this place is so isolated..."
"LET HER GO!"
A deep roar cut through the stormy night, followed by a tall figure charging forward.
WHAM!
The drunk was knocked to the ground with one punch, groaning as he lay in a puddle.
I looked up through the blurring rain to see that familiar silhouette, and I froze instantly.
Ronald Sterling stood before me, rainwater streaming down his face, fury burning in those deep eyes.
"Are you hurt?" He removed his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. "Did he harm you?"
Seeing his protective stance, hearing his concerned voice, all the memories I'd sealed away came flooding back.
Four years ago, it was also a stormy night like this...
Four years ago, 11 PM, 24-hour coffee shop
Back then I was still a naive college student working the night shift at a 24-hour coffee shop. Rain poured down as neon lights flickered through the storm, the entire street deserted.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
A blood-covered man stumbled inside. His clothes were torn, obvious wounds on his face—he looked like he'd just been through a brutal fight.
"Help... help me..." He collapsed on the floor, blood staining the tiles.
Any rational person would have called the police, but seeing his anguished expression, my heart softened.
"Oh my God! You're hurt!" I rushed over to help him up. "I'll call an ambulance!"
"NO!" He gripped my hand tightly. "Don't call the police... please..."
His eyes held such desperation, such vulnerability—nothing like the powerful, commanding business emperor I'd later come to know.
I didn't sleep that night, carefully tending to him. Over the following days, we went from strangers to companions, from wariness to trust. He was cautious, never revealing his true identity, not even his name.
"You can call me... Ron." When I asked, he said this with something like struggle in his eyes.
I didn't push. During those late-night conversations, I could feel the loneliness and pain buried deep inside him. He was like a wounded beast who needed understanding and companionship, not interrogation.
For four days, we talked about literature, music, life dreams. His knowledge amazed me, his gentleness made me fall.
"Why did you save a stranger who won't even tell you his name?" he asked me.
"Maybe it was instinct," I said, gently touching the bandaged wound. "I felt like you needed someone to believe in you."
"No one has ever trusted me like this." He cupped my face. "You're the only one."
The fourth night, in the coffee shop's small break room
The storm had finally stopped, the street glittering under neon lights outside.
"I have to leave." He said suddenly, deep reluctance in his voice. "My family... they're looking for me. If I don't go back, more people will get hurt."
My heart sank instantly. "When?"
"Tomorrow morning." He slowly stood, back turned to me. "But Carol... I don't want to leave you like this."
"Then don't go." I stood up, trembling as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. "Stay. We could..."
He spun around, burning gaze locking onto mine, and the next second his lips crashed down on mine.
It was a kiss full of desperation and longing, as if trying to unleash every suppressed emotion. His lips were warm and demanding, carrying the bitter taste of coffee and an indescribable sweetness. My legs went weak, and I could only cling to his shoulders.
"I love you." He whispered against my ear, his heated breath making me shiver. "From the moment I saw you, I knew I was done for."
"I love you too..." Tears streamed down my cheeks, voice choked. "I don't care who you are, whatever secrets you have..."
That night, we completely surrendered.
In the dim light, time seemed to stand still.
His kisses fell like raindrops, hands caressing every inch of my trembling skin, possessing me with gentle fierceness, lifting me again and again to dizzying heights, pushing me toward overwhelming bliss.
"I swear I'll come back for you." He held me tight in the darkness, voice hoarse. "Once I've dealt with all the trouble, I'll come back and marry you."
"I'll wait..." I held him just as tightly. "No matter how long, I'll wait."
In that moment, I thought we'd have forever.
At dawn, I woke to find the space beside me empty. On the nightstand was a note and some money:
"My little angel Carol, this money is enough for you to finish school. Once I've solved all my problems, I'll come back to marry you. Wait for me. —Forever yours, Ron"
Then he vanished, as if he'd never existed at all.
But he never came back.
