Orphan To Unbreakable Queen - Chapter 122: Chapter 122

The six of them had dinner together. After the meal, Enrique stayed to watch the festive show, while Bowen, having had quite a bit to drink that evening, went upstairs to rest.
Alvin was playing cards with Ethan and Samson. When it comes to intelligence, Alvin certainly inherited the genes of the Turner family—the Dillard brothers were no match for him and ended up losing an entire month's salary.
However, those two were as stubborn as mules and refused to admit they couldn't even beat Alvin, who rarely played cards. Aubree didn't know how to play, so she just watched from the sidelines, thoroughly amused by the scene.
"Aubree," Enrique said, "Bowen had a little too much to drink tonight. Could you deliver him a hangover remedy? It's in the kitchen."
"Okay," Aubree replied. Since she was the only one free at the moment, she went to the kitchen, carefully grabbed the drink, and made her way upstairs.
Enrique's earlier words echoed in Bowen's mind. It was clear to anyone that Aubree held only a fleeting affection for him. Growing up in an orphanage, Aubree met the investor, who provided her with vital emotional support during her childhood. However, upon returning to the Wilson family, she was left with deep emotional scars.
On the surface, she seemed lively and friendly, but in reality, she kept her emotions closely guarded. Earning her complete trust and love was no simple task.
Bowen had quite a few drinks that night, but it wasn't enough to make him drunk. He stood on the balcony, gazing up at the night sky with a thoughtful expression. He couldn't wait any longer.
He struggled to understand Enrique's intentions. While it was evident that he had developed a fondness for Aubree these past few days, there was always a subtle undertone in his words. Bowen's expression grew serious. He realized he needed to quicken his pace.
As if on cue, Aubree appeared at the door with a drink in hand and knocked. She quickly caught herself and asked, "Bowen, are you asleep? Mr. Turner asked me to bring you some hangover remedy." She recalled how frightening Bowen had looked that morning, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he might consume her entirely.
"No. Come in." With Bowen's consent, Aubree finally opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dim, leading her to believe he had already gone to bed or was at least lying down. To her surprise, Bowen stood by the window, bathed in the soft moonlight that shimmered off the snow outside, casting a gentle glow throughout the room.
The dim light only accentuated Bowen's spectral appearance as he stood by the window, pale and completely lifeless. He turned sideways to face her, his gaze lowered, and silently observed her. The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
"Bowen, are you feeling ill from drinking too much? If you stay out in the cold, you'll feel even worse tomorrow." Aubree stepped a little closer, carefully holding the drink she had let cool to just the right temperature before bringing it in. Her heart raced as she moved forward, unease prickling down her spine.
Bowen cast his gaze down at her, his deep, unreadable eyes exuding a dangerously enticing, nearly predatory aura. "I'm fine," Bowen murmured, his voice low and tinged with alcohol, his breath warm and heavy against her skin.
Aubree hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure whether to approach him or place the hangover remedy on the table. In the end, she spoke softly, "I'll leave the drink here for you. Don't forget to drink it and get some rest, alright." She lingered for a moment, clearly on the verge of leaving.
"Okay, Aubree Miller," Bowen called in a low, captivating voice, "Come here." He rarely used her full name. Lowering his gaze, his eyes were fixed entirely on Aubree, creating a sense of intention, as if he were trying to seduce her. In that moment, it felt like she was the only person in his world.
This thought made the tips of Aubree's ears warm. She paused briefly before stepping forward, finding herself standing right in front of him, close enough to touch.
Standing by the window, Aubree glanced up at him cautiously and asked, "Did you… need something?" Suddenly, Bowen reached out, placing his hands on either side of Aubree and trapping her against the window. She was cornered.
Aubree felt dazed; from the back, it appeared as though she was enveloped in Bowen's embrace. Their eyes met—Bowen's gaze descended, while Aubree's rose. Their gazes locked.
Aubree's hand shook, causing the hangover remedy she was holding to spill. The world around them seemed to shrink to just inches apart.
Aubree was so tense that she held her breath. 'What is Bowen trying to do?'
Bowen moved closer, his breath reeking of alcohol, sending a sharp, stinging heat across her face. Aubree's cheeks burned with such intensity that it felt as if the heat might radiate outward. There was a hazy, almost dazed expression in Bowen's eyes—clearly, the alcohol was taking its toll.
"Bowen…" Aubree held her breath, afraid that the intoxicated Bowen might act unpredictably.
"Yeah," Bowen murmured in a low voice. "Could you taste it for me first?" Bowen's voice was deep and filled with an undeniable intensity that made Aubree's heart race.
Aubree's hand trembled slightly once more. "Don't all hangover remedies taste the same?" she muttered, hoping he would drop the topic.
Bowen leaned in, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "How could you know if you haven't tasted it?" He wore a determined expression, clearly intent on not letting her leave until she took a sip.
Don't argue with a drunk,' she thought. 'I'll just gulp it down and bring him another one later. That should do the trick.' With that in mind, Aubree steadied herself and finished the drink in one go.
A faint smirk danced in Bowen's eyes as he watched Aubree sip the hangover remedy, intentionally closing the distance between them. He appeared determined to pin her against the window. Leaning closer, his breath warmed her ear. "How does that taste?" he asked.
It's just hangover soup,' Aubree thought as she swallowed the last mouthful. She was about to speak—hadn't even formed the first syllable—when suddenly, Bowen's hand pressed firmly down on her shoulder.
In an instant, Bowen suddenly lowered his head and captured her lips with a kiss. Aubree's body went rigid, as if struck by a bolt of lightning—her vision faded to a blur. At that moment, it felt as if her mind had short-circuited.
Wait—Bowen is kissing me?' Aubree thought, utterly stunned. His lips were elegantly thin yet surprisingly soft, and their intense warmth made her heart race.
A loud crash echoed; the empty cup in her hand had served its purpose. It fell to the floor and shattered into countless pieces.
Bowen remained unbothered. He enclosed Aubree completely, his lips pressed against hers—first exploring, then teasing, and gradually deepening the kiss, as if gauging just how much she could handle.
It was completely different from last time. Aubree was fully conscious, but her mind had gone blank. Her eyes glazed over—she couldn't process what was happening. Her legs turned to jelly, and her whole body began to give way.
Bowen's hand rested at Aubree's waist. In one smooth motion, he lifted her, pressing her tightly against his chest, leaving no space between them.
He gently bit her lip—the sharp sting brought Aubree back to her senses. Aubree thought, 'We are kissing, for real?'
Bowen leaned back slightly, their bodies still entwined. Their breaths mingled—hers quick and shallow, his warm and heavy. Bowen teased, "You've consumed it all... Now, there's nothing left for me, is there?"
Aubree thought, 'So... He's trying to taste the hangover remedy from my lips?' Her mind was in complete turmoil—at that moment, it felt as if the air had frozen. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She couldn't find her voice at all.
Bowen grinned, his voice low and teasing. "Yes, I've tasted it... It's sweet."
Liar! It wasn't sweet at all!' Aubree fumed inwardly. She stood there in a daze, staring blankly at Bowen.
He leaned in once more, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured in a deep, husky voice, "I want to savor it again."
Aubree snapped back to reality and exclaimed, "You're drunk!" Then, she quickly pushed Bowen away and hurried out, saying over her shoulder, "I'll have Ethan bring you some more!"
Aubree stumbled out of the room and leaned against the hallway wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for breath. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. Without thinking, her hand instinctively went to her lips—where he had nipped her, the skin was tender, and the contact sent a stinging sensation through her.
Everything that had just transpired replayed in her mind, uninvited. Horror flickered in Aubree's eyes. 'What am I doing? Am I enjoying this?' she thought in panic.
Without a moment's hesitation, Aubree hurried into the bathroom, cupping water to her face in an attempt to steady herself. The mirror offered back a version of her. She barely recognized—color rising to her cheeks, eyes glinting with unspoken emotion, and lips tinged with an unfamiliar sheen. 'I must be crazy!' she thought.
Aubree tossed and turned all night, unable to find even a moment of peace. Little did she know that her hurried exit was witnessed by everyone downstairs, nor did she realize that Bowenr, still in the room, was sporting a devilish smirk.
As dawn finally broke at eight in the morning, a knock echoed at the door.