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Chapter 4 A Beauty Beyond Compare

  • Finnley lightly tapped Noelle's head with the stick. "Don't be ungrateful. If you don't call out, I'm leaving."
  • At this point, the filthy water had risen to Noelle's lips. Dying in a sewage pit? If her colleagues found out, she wouldn't have the dignity to face anyone, even in death. She figured she could swallow her pride for now, then get out and shoot him later, even if it meant going to jail for it. Noelle grabbed the stick tightly and, gritting her teeth, said, "Darling husband, please, hurry and save me."
  • Hearing her say "darling husband" sent a thrill through Finnley. With one strong pull, he yanked Noelle out of the sewage pit.
  • Once she was on solid ground, Noelle stood there, seething and panting with anger. After catching her breath, she made a sudden move.
  • She's going for her gun! Finnley realized immediately. He couldn't let her draw it, or he'd be a dead man. With lightning reflexes, he smacked the back of her neck, and Noelle instantly passed out, collapsing to the ground.
  • "I knew it." Finnley clicked his tongue and muttered to himself, "A policewoman never keeps her word."
  • He laid her down gently. "Holy sh*t, that stinks!" he gasped, wrinkling his nose and checking her breathing. She was still alive, just unconscious.
  • Looking at her filthy uniform, Finnley had no choice but to undress her despite how gross it was. He peeled off her clothes and shoes, all the while marveling at her figure. She's really something!
  • As he cleaned up, Finnley noticed her police badge, gun, and handcuffs. When he glanced at her ID, he froze—Eastport Police Department, Senior Detective Noelle Ashwood!
  • "Jesus Christ, she's Noelle?!"
  • Of all his seven sisters, Finnley had always been most afraid of his sixth sister. She had a fiery temper and was tough as nails. He vividly remembered the time he poured yogurt on her skirt as a joke during a nap. She thought it was him leaving evidence of a frig, and without a second thought, beat his butt black and blue.
  • And now, after he had shamelessly messed with her like this, he knew he'd be as good as dead after she woke up.
  • Finnley's first instinct was to run, but he paused. If he left her here like this, in broad daylight, she could be seen by anyone passing by. If some lowlifes found her in such a vulnerable state, things could go very wrong. Noelle was the kind of woman whose allure could drive men to do crazy things—going to jail would be worth it for some.
  • What should I do? Finnley scratched his head, thinking it over. Finally, he decided to find a hotel nearby. He fashioned a makeshift outfit out of willow branches to cover Noelle's body. After making sure it concealed her decently, he carried her to the hotel.
  • At the front desk, the receptionist was absorbed in their phone, but when they noticed Finnley carrying an unconscious woman, they asked suspiciously, "What's going on here?"
  • Finnley responded plainly, "Police business. Give me a room." He flashed Noelle's police badge at the receptionist, who immediately complied, giving him a key without further questions.
  • Finnley carried Noelle into the room, and as soon as he laid her on the couch, he saw her fingers twitch. Sensing trouble, he quickly bolted from the room.
  • Meanwhile, at The Eastport Royale, preparations for a grand and unique proposal were underway.
  • Though Melanie Fallow was an adopted daughter of the Fallow family, she had lived up to their expectations. After securing the top SAT score in the state, she was accepted into Highcrest University, where she earned a PhD in business administration. Upon returning to Eastport, she immediately took over the family's hotel business. Under her leadership, the hotel flourished, and she was hailed as the "Goddess of Eastport."
  • Yet, at that moment, sitting in her office, Melanie looked despondent. In just a short while, the Fitzalan family would arrive with their marriage proposal, and the media would swarm to cover how Spencer, Eastport's most notorious playboy, would propose to her.
  • She didn't love Spencer, but she had to accept his proposal—it was her duty to the family.
  • Her grandmother had said, "Only by aligning with the Fitzalan family can we secure the future of our hotel."
  • Is a loveless marriage really my fate? Melanie thought bitterly.
  • Atop the hotel was a massive outdoor banquet hall. By 9 a.m., the guests of the Fallow family had all gathered.
  • The old matriarch of the Fallow family stood up, surveying the crowd. "Thank you all for coming to my granddaughter's proposal party. Melanie has always been the pride of our family. Today, she will be joining in marriage with Spencer, heir to one of Eastport's most prestigious families. His private helicopter is scheduled to arrive at exactly 9.09 a.m."
  • Reporters from various media outlets aimed their cameras at Melanie, the flashes illuminating her dress, which perfectly complemented her graceful figure. Her long, black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her delicate features looked as though they had been meticulously crafted by the world's finest artist, with each line and contour executed to perfection. Everything about her—from her body to her face—was the epitome of beauty.
  • Suddenly, the roaring sound of helicopter engines filled the air as a helicopter approached the hotel.
  • Spencer, grinning from ear to ear, sat inside the helicopter, gazing down at the scene below. With a flourish, he opened a bag containing hundreds of thousands of roses, and soon, millions of petals rained down. The entire hotel was enveloped in a blanket of flowers, transforming the city into a sea of roses.
  • Speaking into a loudspeaker, Spencer shouted, "Melanie Fallow, I love you! Will you marry me?"
  • "Say yes! Say yes!" the crowd cheered in unison.
  • "What a magnificent proposal!"
  • "Yeah, the Fitzalan family is loaded! This flower display alone must have cost a fortune."
  • "I wish I could marry Spencer!"
  • The onlookers were green with envy. But amid the ocean of roses, Melanie sat quietly, tears streaming down her face.
  • Mel… Is she crying? Finnley frowned. She must not want this marriage. Spencer Fitzalan, if you think you can force her into this, you've got another thing coming.
  • As the helicopter hovered about 30 feet above the hotel, a rope descended. Spencer planned to make a grand entrance by rappelling down from the sky, believing this was the most dramatic way to propose to the Goddess of Eastport.
  • Halfway down, Spencer struck a pose, trying to show off.
  • Finnley casually picked up a dinner knife, flicked his wrist, and sent it flying through the air. It sliced cleanly through the rope ladder, cutting it in two.
  • With a terrified scream, Spencer plummeted to the ground, landing face-first in front of Melanie. He hit the ground hard, breaking a leg, knocking out three of his front teeth, and splattering blood all over his once-pristine suit. He looked utterly pathetic.