Accidentally Crossing the Tycoon Chapter 108

Audrey's POV:

Following Finley up the staircase of the Cole mansion, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

His shoulders were tense, and he kept his gaze fixed forward as we approached what I assumed was Clara's bedroom.

When we reached the door, Finley stopped abruptly and turned to me.

"I... I'll stay here, you go in," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

I studied his face, noting the slight flush creeping up his neck and the way he avoided direct eye contact.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly. "You seem off."

Finley sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

"It's nothing serious. Clara just... she probably doesn't want to see me right now."

I raised an eyebrow, my concern growing. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No, I mean—yes, but..." He trailed off, then shook his head.

"Well, she would tell you. "

I realized I wasn't going to get anything useful out of him in this state. His flushed face and fidgeting hands told me more than his words ever would.

"Fine," I said with a sigh. "I'll go in and see what's going on. "

I knocked gently before pushing the door open.

The room was bathed in soft light, with the curtains half-drawn.

I could see a human-shaped lump under the blankets on the king-sized bed.

Before I could announce myself, a pillow came flying across the room, narrowly missing my head.

"Go away, Finley!" Clara's muffled voice emerged from beneath the covers. "I told you I don't want to see you right now!"

I caught the pillow that had been launched at me and cleared my throat.

"It's Audrey, not Finley," I said, approaching the bed cautiously.

"Should I be concerned about flying bedroom accessories?"

There was a moment of startled silence, then the blankets rustled violently.

Clara's head popped out, her hair disheveled and her eyes wide with surprise.

"Audrey?" she gasped, her expression shifting from anger to embarrassment in an instant.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited to the lunch, remember?" I said, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the pillow beside her.

"The more important question is what happened to you? Everyone downstairs is being mysteriously vague."

Clara's cheeks suddenly flushed crimson, and she shot a glare toward the door.

"It's all Finley's fault," she said, her voice rising with indignation.

"What did he do?" I asked, genuinely worried now.

Clara's blush deepened as she leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Remember when you told me the first time doesn't hurt that much?"

I blinked, processing her words. "Wait, you mean..."

"You lied to me," she hissed, pulling the blanket up higher. "It *does* hurt."

My eyes drifted to the bedside table where I noticed a medical report. Almost instinctively, I reached for it.

"Audrey!" Clara protested, but I was already scanning the document.

The report was from a private clinic, clearly indicating a minor tear that required examination.

Nothing serious, but certainly uncomfortable. Relief washed over me—I'd been imagining far worse scenarios.

"Oh, Clara," I said, unable to suppress a small smile. "This is completely normal. I'm just glad you're not seriously hurt."

"I had no idea it would be this painful," Clara groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Wait, is that what you two are fighting about?" I asked.

"Not exactly," Clara sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

"Last night, I thought the pain was normal, so I didn't say anything. I didn't want to ruin his... enthusiasm."

I nodded sympathetically.

"But this morning," she continued, her voice dropping to a mortified whisper, "Finley saw the blood and swelling and completely freaked out. He literally carried me to the car and rushed me to the clinic, shouting for everyone to call ahead and get a doctor ready."

My eyes widened as I imagined the scene. "So the entire Cole family..."

"Knows exactly what happened on my wedding night," Clara finished, groaning.

"I'll never be able to look any of them in the eye again!"

I pressed my lips together, trying to maintain my composure, but a small snort of laughter escaped despite my best efforts.

The mental image of Finley rushing through the house in a panic, carrying Clara while shouting about wedding night injuries, was just too absurd.

"Are you laughing at me?" Clara's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Seriously, Audrey? Even my best friend is mocking my humiliation!"

"I'm not laughing at you," I insisted, though my twitching lips betrayed me. "I'm laughing at Finley."

"It's not funny!" Clara pulled the blanket over her head again.

"I can never face his family again. I'll have to wear a bag over my head at every Cole family gathering for the rest of my life."

I gently pulled the blanket down.

"You're right, it's not funny for you. And this is definitely Finley's fault—both for being too rough and then for turning it into a public spectacle."

"Exactly!" Clara exclaimed.

I stood up decisively. "He owes you a proper apology. Let me get him."

Before Clara could protest, I marched to the door and pulled it open.

Finley was still pacing the hallway, his face a mask of concern. When he saw me, he froze.

"Get in here," I commanded, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the room. "You have some explaining to do."

Finley entered nervously, his eyes fixed on the floor, clearly unable to meet Clara's furious gaze.

"Clara," he began, his voice barely audible, "I'm so sorry for embarrassing you. I just... panicked when I saw you were hurt."

"You didn't just embarrass me," Clara said, her voice trembling with anger. "You announced our intimate business to your entire family! Your mother asked if I needed a special cushion to sit on at lunch!"

I bit back another laugh and composed myself.

"Finley, what Clara needs is for you to acknowledge both mistakes—being too rough and then overreacting in a way that humiliated her."

Finley nodded earnestly, finally looking up at Clara.

"You're right. I should have been more gentle, and I definitely shouldn't have created such a scene. I was just so worried about you, but that's no excuse. I promise I'll be more considerate in the future—in every way."

Clara's expression softened slightly, though she still looked annoyed.

She mumbled, "I can't even face going downstairs now. Everyone will be staring at me."

Finley sat beside her on the bed. "I've already spoken to them. I made it clear that no one is to mention this again. "

I watched as Clara's anger gradually dissipated. The tension between them was easing, and I decided it was a good time to give them some space while also reminding them of the lunch.

"I think I'll head downstairs and let them know you'll be joining us shortly," I said, moving toward the door.

"Wait," Clara called after me. "I'll come with you. Just... give me a minute to get dressed."

Finley looked relieved, and I nodded, pleased to see them working things out.

---

Ten minutes later, I accompanied Clara, now dressed in a high-necked sweater, down the grand staircase to the Cole family's dining room.

"Sorry for the delay, everyone," Clara announced with a graceful smile.

The dining room was impressive, with a long mahogany table set elegantly for the occasion.

Caspar and Noah were already seated, with the elder Coles at the head of the table. I took a seat beside Clara, across from Caspar and Noah.

As the first course was served, Robert Cole broke the silence, turning his attention toward me.

"Audrey," he said with a smile, "what do your parents do? They must be exceptional people to have raised such an accomplished young woman."

I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth, surprised to suddenly become the center of attention.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Daisy and William exchanging glances, their expressions clearly conveying they didn't share their father's high opinion of me.

"I, um..." I hesitated, not wanting to delve into the complicated story of the Bailey family.

Explaining my status as their former foster daughter would lead to too many questions I didn't want to answer in this setting. And as for my biological parents—well, that was a mystery even to me.

"I don't have parents," I finally said, setting down my fork. "I'm an orphan."