Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 90

Emmy barely had time to think. She slipped out of her drenched dress and sank into the cold bath, her entire body trembling as the chill wrapped around her.

Under the clear water, her pale, flawless skin seemed to glow, delicate and almost unreal. The sight stole James’s breath for a second. He jerked his gaze away, throat suddenly dry and tight.

Moving quickly, he pulled a thick towel from the cabinet, folded it into a square, and gently tucked it under her neck to protect her from the steady rush of water.

The icy bath finally eased some of the burning in her body, but it also sapped her last bit of strength. Emmy closed her eyes, her body going limp as she slipped into unconsciousness.

James rummaged through the cabinet once more and grabbed a milk-scented bath bomb, tossing it into the tub. Creamy bubbles rose up almost instantly, covering her figure in a gentle, frothy veil.

Only then did he let himself look at her again. Even asleep, Emmy’s cheeks were flushed an unnatural pink. Her soaked black hair clung messily to her face and collarbones, making her look heartbreakingly fragile.

Her brows were still scrunched together, even in her sleep.

James’s eyes darkened, stormy and complicated. He hovered his fingertips just above her furrowed brow, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to touch her.

A knock sounded at the door. “James, your clothes are here.”

He quickly pulled his hand back, his expression turning cold as he left the bathroom.

—

Down the hall, Dean was moving from room to room, bodyguards at his side. Every time he stopped at a door, the people inside scrambled to open it, all smiles and nervous energy.

“Mr. Sparrow, feel free to look around. We’re happy to cooperate.”

No one dared cross him. In this world, only Mr. Nelson was more untouchable than Dean Sparrow.

Finally, they reached the presidential suite, but an assistant stepped in to block the way.

“Mr. Sparrow, this is Mr. Nelson’s private suite. I’m afraid you can’t go in.”

Dean’s face was thunderous. “That’s exactly why I need to search it.”

He shoved past the assistant, ready to force his way in.

Just then, the door swung open from the inside. Jamie stood there in a crisp, designer suit, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, every inch exuding cold, effortless elegance. He looked at everyone as if they were wasting his time.

His patience snapped, and his voice was pure steel.

“I don’t let rabid dogs in my house. Get him out.”

He turned to go back inside.

Dean finally snapped, lunging for the door like a man possessed.

Jamie didn’t even look. He spun, catching Dean with a sharp shoulder that knocked him back. Dean stumbled, slamming into the wall and clutching his chest, stunned by the impact.

He stared at Jamie in disbelief.

How could anyone have that kind of strength?

Jamie’s own injury flared from the movement, pain flickering across his face for just a second. But he ignored it, casting one last cold look at Dean before walking back into the suite.

“Mr. Sparrow is no longer welcome here,” he called out, letting the door slam shut behind him.