The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes
Chapter 60- guilt

Chapter 60: Chapter 60- guilt

Although nothing happened that night, Charles still remembered the way she looked—dazed, vulnerable.

If it had been another man who found her instead of him, he didn’t even want to imagine what might’ve happened.

"How do you know that?" Janet’s eyes widened with curiosity. His tone... there was something hidden beneath his words.

She could barely handle a few light beers—let alone this strong liquor. Her head was already starting to spin.

"Silly girl," Charles murmured, still holding her close. His voice dipped low, warm against her skin. "You got drunk that night and climbed into my car. If you hadn’t run into me... who knows what would’ve happened to you."

Janet’s almond-shaped eyes widened even more.

That drunken night—the man who had seen her fully exposed—

It was... him?

"You’re only realizing it now? Regretting it already?" Charles chuckled and tapped her on the nose, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"It... it was you?" she stammered, face flushing bright red.

Charles nodded with a slight smirk.

Back then, she hadn’t remembered what the man looked like. She had dismissed the whole incident as a hazy, embarrassing dream. But now that she thought about it, she couldn’t deny the unease she had always felt about it.

Looking back on how much of a mess she’d been that night, Janet cringed a little inside.

Maybe... it was fate. Maybe that chaotic night was the start of something destined.

After all, she hadn’t recognized him when they met at Black Rock Co.—but he had recognized her instantly.

Now she understood what that probing look in his eyes had meant.

"It was me," Charles confirmed, catching her delicate fingers in his own. His gaze burned into her, filled with unmistakable desire. Janet felt her whole body flush under his stare.

"Then... then you undressed me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, eyes dropping to avoid his.

"I saw everything worth seeing," he said, laughter dancing in his voice, "touched everything worth touching."

Her face turned crimson.

God, this man had no filter.

Then she felt his breath, hot against her neck.

"And what we didn’t do that night... why don’t we make up for it tonight?"

His voice oozed temptation, a wicked sweetness dripping from every syllable.

One hand cupped her cheek, coaxing her gently.

It was hard to believe—he had spent that night beside her, untouched, unmoved... and done absolutely nothing.

But tonight?

Tonight, he clearly had different plans.

"What... what did you say?" Janet licked her lips nervously.

That simple, unconscious motion sent a bolt of desire through Charles. He nearly lost control, barely suppressing the urge to pin her down right there. His voice came out low and husky, brushing against her ear like a caress.

"Wasn’t it obvious? You were always meant to be mine."

"But... aren’t I already yours now?" Janet whispered, her palm bracing against his chest. She could feel the heat of him—his breath, his heartbeat, the dangerous closeness of his body.

She’d never noticed before just how dangerously charming he was.

Like Little Red Riding Hood finally realizing the wolf had teeth—and she was trapped in his gaze.

"Janet," he said, taking her hand. His tone softened, deepened. "Once or twice won’t be enough. I want a lifetime. Say you’ll be mine. Always."

Before she could respond, he spun her gently around and swept her onto the dark, soft mattress. She gasped, startled, as he moved above her—yet her body responded before her mind could catch up.

She nodded.

Even that small gesture sent a wave of satisfaction through Charles.

Bathed in the soft amber light, he gazed at her delicate features, then leaned down to kiss the curve of her neck. She tensed slightly beneath him, and so he paused—held still.

"Janet," he murmured, voice trembling slightly, "no matter what happens... stay. Don’t ever leave me."

She didn’t understand what stirred such desperation in his voice. Still, she whispered back, "I won’t. Everything I am... it’s yours."

Whether it was the warmth of the wine, his words, or simply his presence—something in her melted.

Hearing her promise, Charles moved with intention—clothing discarded, bodies pressing close, the distance between them vanishing in a heartbeat.

She gasped softly, voice caught in her throat, surrendering to the rhythm they now shared. The earlier hesitation had long since evaporated, replaced by trust, warmth, and something deeper she couldn’t name.

Their bodies moved in sync, sweat and breath entwining in the dim light, crafting a wordless symphony of heat and heart.

Meanwhile, downstairs—

"Dad... what did you just say?"

Elvira had just finished a late-night snack and was about to head upstairs when Harold called out to her—waiting until Anila was gone.

What he told her, the decision he had clearly mulled over for a long time, left her completely stunned.

"Well... our Louis Group is facing a financial crisis right now. I have no choice but to ask Manfred for help," Harold confessed, voice heavy with guilt.

He knew all too well how pathetic it sounded—once again using his daughter as a bargaining chip. But his eldest daughter? She wasn’t someone easy to manipulate.

Elvira’s expression froze the moment she heard Manfred’s name. A chill ran down her spine.

She still remembered the banquet at Shengshi. That night, she had shoved Janet into the pool. Charles and Manfred had both jumped in after her—and shockingly, Manfred had even retaliated by pushing her in too. She had been humiliated. She hadn’t dared to leave her house for days afterward.

They’d only met once, but that had been more than enough. Manfred was a dangerous man, infamous for his cold methods and unpredictable temper.

Now her father expected her to walk straight into the lion’s den? Was he insane?

Besides, her heart was set on Charles. No other man could hold her attention.

But it had been over a month since she last saw him—he seemed to have vanished entirely.

"Please, Elvira," Harold said, trying to sound calm but desperate. "Just this once, help your father. Charles knows people well—he said Manfred would help, and I believe he will."

Hearing Charles’ name, Elvira’s eyes lit up. She perked up immediately, her mind skipping over the financial woes.

"You spoke to Charles? He’s back?" she asked quickly, her voice suddenly eager.

She didn’t care about the company’s future. Even if Louis Group collapsed, she still had her grandfather’s backing. What she didn’t know was—Louis Group and Zanya were already hollow shells of their former selves.

"Elvira," Harold said, softening his tone, "I’m only asking you to try to get close to Manfred. No matter what happens, I won’t force you. Just try. For me."

He looked tired. He no longer carried the pride of a father, and Elvira’s infatuation with Charles only made him sigh inwardly. If Charles had ever cared about her, Harold wouldn’t have had to beg for help at all.

"You swear?" Elvira narrowed her eyes.

When Harold nodded in earnest, she finally said, "Fine. I’ll try."