The Cherished Wife

Trapped in the man's grip, Noelle struggled to break free, her body refusing to cooperate. Her vision was blurry as she glared at him. "What are you trying to do?"

"Just having a bit of fun..." He chuckled, his voice dripping with sleaze as he steadied her. "Let's go somewhere more entertaining, shall we?"

Noelle might have been out of it, but she could still sense the danger in the man's tone. However, her whole body ached, and she knew she was no match for them. She scanned the area for anyone who could help her, but she was invisible to the passersby.

She spotted a figure approaching through her haze. Acting instinctively, she shoved the two men aside and bolted, slamming right into the newcomer. "Save me!" she gasped.

Her fingers dug into the fabric of the man's shirt, and she inhaled a sharp, clean scent. "Please, save me," she pleaded.

Charles squinted, taking in the woman who had just collided with him. There was a flicker of something sharp in his gaze.

Noelle did not let go, pressing herself against him. Her lips, tainted with the strong smell of booze, were inches from his face, and her cheeks were unnaturally rosy.

"Sir..." Ronald, who was standing a few steps back, watched in disbelief. She had the nerve to approach Charles, yet he was not pushing her away?

Charles shot a cold look at the two men harassing Noelle. "Time to leave, don't you think?"

"You… Who do you think you are? Do you even know who I am? I had my eye on that girl," one of the men blurted out.

Charles smirked and let out a soft laugh. "You laid a hand on her? Which hand was it? Show me!"

The courage of the other man drained away when he met Charles's icy stare. "Uh... Mr. Hoffman, we didn't realize who you were. We... we haven't touched her, not at all," he stammered, realizing they were in deep trouble.

"Ronald," Charles shot him a look before scooping Noelle into his arms like she was the heroine in some epic romance, “give these guys a lesson they won't forget. Make it clear that The Majestic Lounge isn't for scum like them."

With Noelle in his arms, Charles spun on his heel and left. Ronald gave a curt nod. "Understood." A sly grin spread across his face as he faced the two troublemakers. "So, which one of you was it that touched the lady?"

The two guys exchanged panicked glances, too scared to utter a word. Ronald let out a mocking scoff. "What, did both of you touch her? Mr. Hoffman wants to let you keep a little bit of your offending hand as a souvenir."

They dropped to their knees with a thud, as pale as ghosts, begging, "Please, have mercy! You can't do this. My dad is a big shot at Evergreen Group..."

Meanwhile, Charles, with Noelle in his arms, was like a walking iceberg.

Noelle felt she was being drained of blood and eaten alive by a swarm of ants. She whimpered, overcome by a wave of dizziness, "It's so hot..."

Charles glanced down at his shirt, which was now a mess thanks to Noelle, and his gaze frosted over. He held her tighter and picked up the pace to the elevator.

Though she was barely conscious, she caught a glimpse of the man's strong profile. The chill from his body was oddly soothing, and she snuggled closer without thinking. Charles's eyes darkened just as the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped out into the unknown.