chapter342

"Hey! Get up!"

Elysia was desperate. She wanted nothing more than to see Tarquin leave and return to his own residence. But no matter how much she prodded, swung her arms, or even delivered a few futile kicks—looking like a small tornado trying to move a mountain—she couldn't wake him.

It was a spectacle of absolute chaos meeting immovable calm. She was a flurry of motion and frustration, while he remained as peaceful as a sleeping kitten, undisturbed by the world around him. His only reaction was a slight, unconscious frown, followed by... nothing. Not even a flicker of an eyelid.

Realizing that waking him was a lost cause, Elysia dialed Lowell and Keaton, hoping they would come and collect their wayward friend. But of course, those two were the architects of this situation in the first place. They had no intention of picking up. As the saying goes, you can never get a reply from someone who is determined to play dead.

Out of options and unable to contact any of his other associates, she even briefly considered calling Elijah. But the thought was dismissed as quickly as it came—the boy was just a child; how could he possibly help transport a grown man?

Frustrated, Elysia turned to a delivery app, hoping to hire someone to haul him away. But to her astonishment, she waited over an hour without a single person accepting the task. It was baffling and utterly infuriating.

Refusing to give up, Elysia decided to take matters into her own hands. She dashed home to change into sportswear and tied her hair into a practical ponytail. Returning to the scene, she rolled up her sleeves and grabbed Tarquin by one leg, attempting to drag him toward the elevator.

No dice.

She abandoned the drag and tried to hoist him up, wrapping his arm around her neck and attempting to lift him. Predictably, that failed too. Despite his lean appearance, Tarquin was no lightweight. As a dedicated fitness enthusiast, his physique was deceptively dense and muscular. At nearly six-foot-three, moving him was a feat far beyond Elysia’s strength.

Covered in sweat and exhausted, she finally resigned herself to seeking help from the condominium's security.

The guards, who knew Elysia and the children well, couldn't help but joke when they saw the man she was struggling with. "Ms. Thorne, where are you off to with the kids' father at this hour?"

"He's not their father!" Elysia snapped back. "They just happen to look alike."

"Oh? Not him, eh? But the resemblance is uncanny! Then who is he?"

"A total nuisance!" she retorted. "Could you just help me get him to the front gate? He’s incapacitated, and I need to get him into a taxi."

The guards, sensing her reluctance to elaborate, didn't pry further and helped hoist Tarquin up. "Man, this guy looks slim, but he’s solid," one remarked.

Elysia let out a scoff. "Looks can be deceiving. He’s like a wolf in sheep’s clothing—but he weighs as much as a prize hog!"

With the guards' assistance, she managed to get Tarquin into a cab. She moved to sit in the front passenger seat, but the driver shook his head. "Miss, you’d better sit in the back with him. He’s out of it, and it isn't safe for him to be alone back there. If he gets sick or falls over, you’ll need to keep him steady."

Reluctantly, Elysia followed the advice and climbed into the back seat. No sooner had the car pulled away than Tarquin’s weight shifted, and he collapsed right onto her.

Reacting purely on instinct and frustration, Elysia shoved him away—hard.

Thud—

Tarquin’s head made a dull sound as it hit the car window.

The driver jumped, glancing in the rearview mirror with a concerned look. "Miss... is he alright back there?"

Elysia, unfazed and still panting from the exertion of the last hour, leaned back against the seat. "Don't worry, he’s sturdy enough! Just focus on the road and get us there."