The Miracle of You

Camille thought about it for a moment. First of all, it couldn’t be work-related. After all, they worked at the same company, and she was even his personal assistant. She would know if something went wrong.

On the contrary, everything was running smoothly, which made this current situation even more confusing.

‘Probably has to do with his father? I can’t think of anything else,’ Camille grumbled to herself as she forced herself to leave her bedroom.

As much as it annoyed her to take care of Christian, she couldn’t let the servants do it for her. Not when he called for her himself. If she didn’t come, he would most likely punish the servants in response, and she didn’t want that to happen.

When she finally reached the living room, she stopped in her tracks, stunned by the sight before her.

The scene in front of her was so strange. The lights weren’t on, just a single chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the room.

Christian, usually calm and collected, was sprawled out on the leather couch. His tailored suit was rumpled and askew, and his usually perfectly groomed hair was slightly disheveled.

Camille scrunched her nose at the scent that hit her nostrils. The air was heavy with the pungent smell of alcohol, mingling with the faint scent of his expensive cologne.

As she approached, she saw that his tie hung loosely around his neck, which disturbed her somewhat. She had never seen him in a state like this before.

“Mr. Callahan?” she called out warily.

What came back was a small groan before he slowly opened his eyes.

His usually sharp gaze was clouded, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He was a mess. One hand clutched an empty wine bottle, while the other dangled limply over the edge of the couch.

She stood there, breath catching in her throat, not knowing what to do. For a moment she debated whether to leave him there, alone in his drunken stupor, or to help him up to his room. He seemed unresponsive right now judging by the way he couldn’t fully register her presence.

He must have drunk the night away so carelessly, which was weird because that really wasn’t like him.

In the end, Camille sighed heavily.

Despite herself, she couldn’t resist her own conscience.

She approached Christian warily and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Callahan,” she said, using the professional tone that she always used whenever she was at work. “Mr. Callahan. You shouldn’t sleep here. You’ll have a bad back in the morning.”

He answered her with another small, almost inaudible groan. He seemed pretty wasted.

Camille sighed in exasperation. Why did she have to do this kind of thing? This man was really unbelievable.

With a huff, she helped him up from the couch and let him lean back against the seat. Even though her slender figure made her look like a delicate woman, she was actually quite strong.

Her former parents – the van Gowens – had made her take several lessons as a child. She would start with a few, and it was her choice whether she wanted to go through with it or not after a week of experience.

As someone who was thirsty for knowledge and skills from a young age, she enjoyed taking piano lessons, learning martial arts, and even swimming lessons. She had experienced a lot as a child, and it helped her a lot over the years. She preferred self-defense tactics to offensive attacks, just enough to protect herself if harm came her way.

She hadn’t practiced her skills that much since she had become Christian’s secretary, but she always made sure to train every day and stay in shape. That way she would be able to defend herself if necessary.

‘But this guy is more muscular than I thought he would be,’ she thought in annoyance as she tried to correct his posture. He was still staring into space, seemingly disoriented. It was as though he was seeing right through her.

“Mr. Callahan,” she called out. “Mr. Callahan. Please wake up and go sober up in your room.”

Christian moved his head slightly to face her. His gaze was still a little cloudy, but now it seemed he was beginning to recognize her.

“Can you hear me now?” she asked in a softer tone this time, hoping that he would respond. She really wanted to go back to her room and sleep. “Can you stand up?”

“. . .” Christian’s gaze was penetrating. He sat straight, slowly, and set down the wine bottle on the floor. He did so quietly, without any rash movements.

“You came,” he finally said.

“Yes?” She was bemused. “I came just as you asked. Now let’s go. You shouldn’t stay here.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her towards him. She yelped and fell into his arms, caught completely off-guard.

Of all the things she had expected him to do, this was definitely not one of them!

“M-Mr. Callahan?!” she exclaimed, startled. She thought that he would finally stand up and go to his room with her help, but now he was suddenly hugging her…

What in the world was going on?

“Stay here.” His breath was warm and his body temperature felt hotter than normal. Or was it because their bodies were pressed together? She didn’t know. Her mind was completely blank.

She was spread awkwardly across his lap, her hands gripping the backrest for leverage. His arms were wrapped around her waist tightly like a lifeline, and it was smothering her slightly. His chin rested on her shoulder, and his lips were so close to her ear that his voice made her shiver a little.

“Mr. Callahan,” she said shakily, feeling uncomfortable from their current position. “Please let me go.”

“No.” His voice was firm but soft. “Stay here.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Mr. Callahan. Let go of me please, you’re suffocating me.”

“I said stay here,” he repeated. “You’re not allowed to move.”