Alexei accepted it. When that woman had fallen into him, her scent hit him immediately — overwhelming, but not of cologne. It was alcohol.
But Alexei pushed the thought aside as he made for the door, ready to step out into the storm. His hand barely brushed the handle when the entrance swung open from the other side.
A young woman struggled through the doorway, wheeling an elderly man into the pharmacy. The rain lashed behind her, droplets dripping from her clothes and the old man's blanket. She barely managed to maneuver the wheelchair over the threshold.
Alexei instinctively stepped aside to give them space.
She mumbled a soft, "Thank you," but when she looked up—her words died in her throat.
Recognition lit up her face, her wide eyes locked onto him, disbelief spread across her features.
"Mr. Alexei?" she breathed, almost starstruck.
Alexei's eyes flicked over her as he scanned her. Long, damp hair clung to her shoulders, her lips were full, face delicate, eyes wide like a startled doe. Pretty? Maybe. Familiar? Not in the slightest.
His head tilted just slightly, studying her with detachment, as though peeling back layers of a onion he didn't care enough to eat.
Had they met? His memory was sharp, and faces rarely slipped through his mind. Hers wasn't one of them.
She quickly stepped forward, offering a hand, her smile seemed forced and eager. "I'm reporter Stacy. From CBT news," she explained, though her voice brimmed with nervous energy. "It's… um… it's so nice to meet you in person."
Her hand hovered between them, awkwardly waiting.
Alexei's gaze flicked to her hand, then back to her face. His expression didn't change. He didn't smile. He didn't offer a handshake. He didn't even speak.
Instead, he brushed past her leaving the faintest hint of disinterest as he left the building.
Stacy stood frozen, her hand still suspended in the air, she brought it down slowly. Her confidence faltered, and her mouth parted to speak—but nothing came out.
The forgotten old man in the wheelchair coughed softly, still waiting.
Stacy snapped back to herself, quickly wheeling him further into the pharmacy, her face was still flushed with lingering humiliation.
She leaned toward the pharmacist behind the counter. Her eyes trailed after Alexei's retreating figure, as the door closed behind him.
"The rumors were never wrong," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. The cold, ruthless, and arrogant CEO… was exactly as they said.
Alexei's umbrella opened with a soft click as he moved to the street. The rain was still pouring, and the traffic horns didn't stop blaring.
Alexei stood for a while, waiting to cross the busy road, but his attention snagged on a familiar figure, crossing recklessly into an oncoming vehicle.
HOOOOOOONK!
Alexei reacted on instinct, his hand shot out as he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back against his chest, just as a car sped by, spraying water in its wake.
"Are you blind!?" His voice wasn't angry, but the irritation in his tone was impossible to miss. Who in their right mind wandered straight into moving traffic like that?
Then her scent hit him again.
That same overwhelming, sharp stench of alcohol. It clung to her skin.
Her hands were gripping his coat now, her fingers trembling, her body weak as though she could barely hold herself upright.
She was drunk. Obviously.
But when her flushed face tilted up, her eyes were dazed and wide, her lips parted as she struggled to speak — there was more to it than just alcohol.
Alexei cleared his throat and straightened his posture.
"Miss, are you alright?" His voice dropped to something quieter now. Less irritated, but more cautious than concerned.
She raised her face to him properly this time.
'It's him! That scent… It's the same man from the pharmacy…'
Her head was heavy, but her body hotter than it should be. And his scent wasn't helping her fragile state. It was intoxicating and maddening.
'I'm at my limit. If this goes on, I won't be able to control myself…'
Her grip around the length of his coat tightened instinctively.
"Please…" she whispered, her voice was faint and breathless. Her glossy and wide eyes never left his. "Help me," she whispered again, barely able to stay on her feet.
Alexei's sharp gaze scanned her face, then dropped to the rest of her disheveled figure. Her clothes were sticking to her from the rain, and the faintest mark of blood stained her dress. His brows furrowed.
"Are you feeling unwell?" His voice was steady now, even a little softer as he shielded her with his umbrella from the rain that poured relentlessly around them.
But as he leaned in, the stench of alcohol hit him again, and he recoiled slightly.
She shook her head, her soaked curls sticking to her face.
"I should not like to go to a hospital, kind sir," she replied, her accent prim and unmistakably old-fashioned. "Pray, I only need… rest."
He tilted his head in confusion. "You… need rest?"
"Yes," she nodded weakly, her double chin wobbling slightly, reminding him of the soft sway of a hen's throat. "My head… I daresay it's spinning… I simply require a place to regain myself."
Ronan's eyes narrowed as he studied her, but she clutched his wrist more firmly now, her hand cold, and her body still trembled beneath the layers of damp clothing.
"Take me… home," she pleaded softly, her words almost a whisper. "Could you… be so kind?"
"Where do you live?" he asked.
She hesitated, her dazed eyes searching his face.
"No… not my home…" her voice dropped to a near-whisper again.
Alexei frowned, his gaze caught the small droplet of blood staining her dress near the hem. He didn't press further. She was clearly in no state to explain herself.
"Perhaps… a motel," she suggested suddenly, bending slowly to retrieve an identification card that had fallen near his feet. Her movements were wobbly, and just as she straightened, her knees buckled slightly.
He reached out, steadying her by the shoulders before she could collapse again.
"I do beg your pardon… I feel quite dizzy…" she muttered, rubbing her temple with an elegant, shaky hand.
"You sure you don't need a doctor?" His concern flickered for the briefest moment, but the alcohol smell convinced him otherwise. "You don't seem alright."
"I… I assure you… 'tis but a moment of weakness," she insisted weakly. "The rain… the heat… I shall be fine…"
Alexei exhaled quietly, his patience running thin as his driver's car pulled up beside them.
The door swung open as the driver stepped out, visibly startled at the scene.
"Mr. Alexei…" the driver greeted while his eyes darted between the drenched woman clinging to his boss and the rain pouring around them.
'Who's that woman Mr. Alexei is holding so intimately?' he thought.
Alexei shifted his hold on her shoulders, his grip was loose but firm enough to keep her from falling.
'If people see this... Wouldn't this be a scandal?'
He rushed towards them.
"Take her to a hotel," Alexei instructed, pushing her off to the driver.
The driver stumbled slightly under her weight, as he held her, his muscles strained unexpectedly. He had lifted weights in the gym heavier than this woman. Yet, she felt… dense. Like she carried the weight of two.
'What's this woman been eating?' he wondered bitterly, already imagining the humiliation she must face in a city like this, where beauty often outweighed worth.
"Which... hotel, sir?" The driver struggled to adjust her against his side, his breath coming short.
'Did this woman pass out or is she intentionally trying to kill me?'
"Just find a five star hotel and book a room for her in my name." Alexei said walking a few feet away from her; he wasn't a fan of the stench of alcohol. "I still have things to do."
"Any five-star," Ronan answered coolly, already stepping away, the overpowering scent of alcohol clinging to his suit. "Book the room under my name."
"I still have places to be."
As he walked further from them, her hand reached out suddenly. Her fingers clutched the sleeve of his suit like her life depended on it.
"Don't leave…" her voice cracked softly. "Help me…"
Alexei: "..."
The driver cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably under her weight.
"Uh… sir…" he began, unsure of what to say. 'Didn't this woman know who she was clinging to? Is she asking for a death wish?' Alexei Adkins wasn't known for his compassion.
But Ronan's cold stare dropped to the woman's hand on his suit.
What did she want now? He'd already agreed to help.
Ring Ring Ring.
He slipped free from her grip as he stepped away with the phone pressed to his ear.
"What's up?"