Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 120

When Marcus walked out of the study, Hazel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, craning her neck to look up.

Hearing the door open, she raised her head, locking eyes with the man emerging on the second floor.

The hallway light hit Marcus from behind, casting his entire figure in a faint, glowing halo. In the play of light and shadow, his intense gaze appeared astonishingly profound.

For a brief moment, Hazel spaced out. A sudden flash of Zachary Ward's equally cold, sharp-featured face crossed her mind—looking down at her from above, just like this.

She blinked and quickly snapped back to reality. How could they possibly be the same person?

The scar on Zachary's face hadn't even fully healed, whereas Marcus's face was completely flawless, not a single blemish in sight. The man who had saved her was Marcus Thornton—this devilishly handsome and dangerous man right in front of her. It wasn't Zachary.

There was no way they were the same person.

Marcus stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at her. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his eyes carrying a wicked gleam. It was as if some malicious, playful part of him was intentionally waiting for her to beg for his help.

Hazel bit her lip. She assumed he would figure out what she needed, but after waiting for what felt like ages with him not making a single move, she finally spoke up, slightly embarrassed.

"Could you help me up? I can't climb the stairs. My leg hurts."

Right as she said the last word, she stole a shy glance at him and pressed her lips together. She hadn't even realized just how pitiable she looked.

It was impossible to tell what Marcus had just been doing in his study, as there was a chilling edge to his expression. But despite that, he still quickly descended the stairs.

Hazel extended her arm, fully expecting to loop it through his so he could help her hop up the steps. Instead, the man walked straight up to her, didn't utter a single word, wrapped his large hands around her waist, and simply swept her up into his arms.

The sudden weightlessness made Hazel let out an instinctual yelp, and her arms flew up to lock tightly around his neck.

Hazel looked down at her clothes. Her shirt was covered in dried leaves and dirt from the bushes, and there was dried blood on her cuffs.

She pressed her lips together, her voice filled with helplessness. "But I just crawled out of a bush, and I'm filthy. If I don't shower, I'm going to ruin your bed."

Hearing this, a slow smirk spread across Marcus's face.

In that split second, those eyes turned utterly devastating, narrowing slightly like a calculating fox.

He leaned in and took two slow steps forward. The distance between them vanished instantly. The air in the hallway seemed to freeze, and a thick, seductive tension began to spin invisibly between them, wrapping around them both.

Hazel instinctively took a step back, her spine hitting the cold wall. She stared at him with wide eyes, her throat suddenly very dry. "Mr. Thornton, what are you doing?"