Chapter 1219
Trying to keep the mood light, the woman shared a bit of gossip she had just overheard.
“I just walked past the private room next door. It’s packed with stunning male models. They’re gorgeous, though obviously not on your level, Mr. Prescott.”
Zeke chuckled, thoroughly amused. “A whole room full? Which wealthy heiress is throwing that kind of party?”
“It’s a female celebrity named Claire Chase. She specifically asked for a bunch of twenty-year-old male models.”
Zeke wasn’t into pop culture, so the name meant nothing to him.
But Wilbur’s hand jerked violently. The crystal glass in his grip shattered into pieces.
Sharp shards sliced into his fingers. Blood mixed with expensive liquor, dripping onto the pristine white tablecloth and blooming into dark, violent stains.
The woman gasped in panic, immediately reaching for a napkin. “Oh my god, Mr. Prescott, don’t move, let me clean that “
Wilbur knocked her hand away. The movement wasn’t aggressive, but it radiated an icy, unquestionable authority.
He pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and meticulously wiped the blood and alcohol from his knuckles.
He didn’t even blink, acting as though someone else had just crushed a glass with their bare hand.
Only when the sharp, biting pain fully registered did his brow twitch in a barely visible frown.
“Mr. Prescott, what just…” Zeke was entirely taken aback.
“It’s nothing.” Wilbur stood up abruptly, the sharp crease of his trousers falling perfectly into place. He buried every trace of his momentary loss of control beneath a dark, impenetrable gaze.
His voice was flawlessly steady, even carrying his usual polite smile. “Something came up. I have to go.”
As he walked out, the door to the adjacent room was cracked open. The bright, eager voices of young men drifted into the hallway.
“Claire, you have to take care of me when we start shooting! I have so much to learn, I’m really counting on your guidance!”
Wilbur’s eyes darkened to pitch black. The deep cut on his finger throbbed mercilessly.
Inside, the actors were being far too aggressive with their attention, and Claire was quickly becoming overwhelmed.
She wasn’t a heavy drinker to begin with, and after a few rounds, the room was definitely spinning.
Desperate to clear her head, she made an excuse to step out for some fresh air. As she walked into the hallway, her cheeks were flushed with a deep, rosy hue.
She had barely taken three steps when a hand clamped down on her wrist like a vice.
An overpowering force yanked her out of the bright corridor and shoved her straight into a pitch-black, empty VIP room.
The heavy door slammed shut behind them, instantly cutting off the thumping club music.
The sharp scent of cedar mixed with a faint trace of tobacco engulfed her completely.
A second later, hot breath brushed
against her ear, heavy with
suppressed fury
I the distinct bite
of alcohol.
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The man’s voice was dangerously low, vibrating right against her skin.
“Does it have to be a twenty-year-old? Is thirty-two not good enough for you?” Deep. Agonizingly slow.
He gritted the words out as if tearing them from his chest.
The heat of his breath trailed down the sensitive curve behind her ear.
Claire jerked her head, trying to escape the sensation.
But his free hand shot up, locking
onto
is grip wasn’t
bruising but it was absolutely el
unyielding. w FindNovel.net
In the dark, he crowded her against the wall. He was so close their noses were practically touching.
The scent of cedar was now laced with the metallic tang of blood, making her breath hitch.
She could clearly smell the liquor.
Was Wilbur drunk?
Why else would he be acting this wildly out of control?
He was always so poised, so restrained.
She had had a few drinks herself, her mind already swimming in a hazy fog.
With his hard body pressed flush against hers, her knees felt terrifyingly weak.
“Let me go first,” Claire meant to say it firmly, as a warning.
But somehow, the words slipped out sounding breathy, almost like a whine.
Wilbur didn’t back off. Instead, he closed the minuscule gap between them pressing his body flush
against hers. Content Vet
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His breathing grew ragged, heavy.
When he spoke, it sounded as if he were fighting a war within himself. “You want to play? I’ll play with you. But stop messing with other men!”