Chapter 152: Take Me Somewhere Safe

Natalie finished the juice slowly, chatting with Albert, but suddenly, a strange sensation crept over her. Her hand holding the glass began to tremble. She swallowed hard, an unsettling feeling spreading through her.

Placing the glass down on the table, she glanced at her hands—her fingers were quivering, and the tips felt uncomfortably hot. A strange heaviness began to settle over her body, making her feel increasingly disoriented. She exhaled sharply, distressed.

"Are you alright, Natalie?" Albert asked, noticing her unease.

Natalie abruptly stood up. "I... need to... visit the washroom..."

"Hurry up, then," Albert said, but Natalie was already rushing away.

John, sensing something was off, followed closely behind. "Ms. Natalie, what’s wrong?"

Natalie didn’t answer and kept walking, heading directly toward the washrooms—she knew exactly where they were; this wasn’t her first time at the event hall.

Following her, John quickly pulled out his cellphone and sent a message. Natalie entered the washroom while John stayed outside, feeling worried.

Inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned over the washbasin, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed, and whatever was in her drink was taking effect far faster than she’d anticipated.

She knew there was no way she could slip out of the event unnoticed—not with so many people and members of the media swarming the hotel.

She splashed water on her face repeatedly, trying to steady herself.

Her breathing grew shallow, and her limbs began to feel heavy and uncooperative.

Snatching a few tissues, she dabbed her face hurriedly and stumbled out of the washroom.

"John..." she gasped weakly, her voice trembling.

John anxiously watched as Natalie leaned against the wall for support. "You’ve been drugged," he said, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Natalie gave a faint nod. "Take me somewhere safe... somewhere no one will see me."

Right now, John was the only person she could trust completely.

"Don’t worry," he assured her and reached out to help, but Natalie flinched. "Don’t touch me," she whispered firmly.

Just then, they heard a group of girls approaching the washroom.

"Briena looked like a fairy today."

"Ivan and she are perfect couple."

Natalie’s anxiety spiked. "Let’s go," she urged, hurrying forward as best as she could.

John followed closely behind. If she hadn’t pushed him away earlier, he would’ve just carried her—it would’ve been so much quicker.

Natalie was struggling to walk, her breath coming in short, heavy gasps. Her steps faltered.

Without hesitation, John caught her. "I know what’s happening to you. But you need to trust me."

Natalie gave a weak nod and, this time, allowed him to support her and walked faster.

Her senses blurred, and even John’s touch started to feel strangely comforting—

comforting. She fought against the urge to lean into him, reminding herself, A hotel staff member—a woman—noticed them as they made their way through the hallway.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Nothing," John replied curtly, pressing forward.

"The lady with you doesn’t look well," the staff member insisted, following them. "There are rooms reserved for Ford family guests. You can take her to one of those."

She pulled a keycard from her pocket and handed it to John. "The elevator is right there."

John accepted the keycard and gave the staff a curt instruction. "Now leave."

They reached the elevator, and thankfully it arrived immediately. John guided Natalie inside as the hotel staff called after them, "Take care, sir, madam!"

John pressed the button for the floor indicated on the keycard. As soon as the doors closed, Natalie stumbled to the far corner of the elevator, distancing herself from him.

Though dizzy and struggling to focus, she managed to speak. "That staff... it’s part of the plan..."

"I know," John replied curtly. "I’m not taking you to that floor." His voice was steady, his focus laser-sharp. All that mattered now was getting Natalie to safety.

The elevator stopped at the designated floor. The doors slid open, but John didn’t move. Natalie stayed pressed against the corner, her breaths coming in quick gasps. A moment later, the doors closed again, and the elevator resumed its upward climb.

"Where... are we going?" Natalie asked, her voice shaky and labored. The confined space, the drug taking hold, and John’s presence so close—it was overwhelming. It took every ounce of her willpower not to collapse into him.

John, sensing her struggle, answered calmly. "We can’t stay on the floor where they set the trap. The safest place is the top floor—private suites. People who stay there prefers to away from scandals."

He glanced briefly at his phone, responding to a few urgent messages. "And don’t worry—there’s no door in this world that I can’t open. Whether the room is empty or occupied, it’ll be yours."

Natalie blinked at him, taken aback by his fearlessness and unwavering confidence. His determination to protect her was undeniable.

The elevator arrived at the top floor, and the doors opened with a soft chime. But Natalie felt paralyzed, her body refusing to move.

John glanced down at her, his expression unreadable. "I’m sorry, but I have to do this. We don’t have time."

Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, carrying her out of the elevator.

Natalie tried to hold her breath, her hands clutched in front of her chest so she wouldn’t end up doing something to John.

John carried her through the elevator lobby and into the long, quiet corridor. The two doors on either side of the hall signaled that only two private suites occupied this side of the floor.

Gently, John set Natalie down beside one of the doors, intending to move away. But before he could, Natalie grabbed the collar of his suit, her fingers tightening as she clung to him. Her gaze turned heated, and she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his scent deeply. The masculine aroma overwhelmed her senses, pulling her closer to the edge of reason.

John remained unmoved, his expression cold and unaffected. With calm precision, he pried her hands off his collar, gripping them firmly to prevent her from pulling him back. He held her at arm’s length, maintaining a careful distance while still keeping her hands restrained.

Natalie glared at him, her eyes clouded with frustration and pleading desire.

John met her gaze steadily, fully understanding what she wanted—and what she was battling. "You’re a strong woman. I just need a few seconds to unlock this door. No one seems to be inside."

Though reluctant, she nodded slowly, as if his words brought her back to the senses.

John released her hands and turned toward the door, pulling a small tool from his pocket. Just as he leaned in to unlock it, the door to the opposite suite swung open.

"Natalie?"

John spun around instantly, blocking the new arrival’s view of her with his body. His stance was tense, prepared for confrontation.

"What’s going on?" the man asked, his tone sharp with suspicion.

"This is none of your business," John said coldly. "I suggest you either go back inside or leave." John didn’t care who this wealthy man could be.