Chapter 25
McNeil all but dragged her, half-carrying, half-pulling Victoria as she stumbled into the hotel lobby.
The woman at the front desk immediately sensed trouble, her hand hovering over the desk phone.
“McNeil, let go of me. Do you enjoy forcing people?”
Victoria tried to wrench her arm free, but McNeil ignored her, tightening his grip.
“Penthouse suite. My ID. Phone number is…,” he rattled off the digits, tossing his wallet onto the counter with an impatient flick of his wrist, never loosening his hold on Victoria.
The receptionist looked them over: a strikingly handsome man and a beautiful, impeccably dressed woman—on the surface, they seemed like the perfect couple. But something was off. The woman was resisting, her discomfort obvious, while the man refused to let go.
“Miss, do you need me to call the police?” the receptionist asked, stepping forward without hesitation.
McNeil’s face darkened. “We’re married,” he snapped.
Victoria was pressed to his side, physically restrained. The absurdity of his words almost made her laugh.
The receptionist didn’t flinch, keeping her focus on Victoria. “Miss? Are you alright?”
Before Victoria could answer, the hotel manager hurried over. One look at McNeil and the color drained from his face.
“M-Mr. Langford…”
He bowed his head, barely daring to breathe. With a single look from McNeil, the receptionist caught on instantly, and hurriedly handed over the room key.
Victoria let out a soft, incredulous laugh. The Langford family really did have their fingers in every pie. If they’d been anywhere else, the receptionist might have actually called the cops, and even if McNeil talked his way out, it would take hours.
“Clear this floor. I don’t want anyone disturbing us,” McNeil ordered. Then, without warning, he hoisted Victoria over his shoulder.
She struggled, trying to wriggle free, but he only tightened his grip—and, right there in the open, delivered a sharp slap to her backside.
“Keep fighting, and I’ll give everyone out there a front-row seat to our little love scene,” he threatened.
The sting of his hand left her breathless. This time, McNeil wasn’t holding back- the blow sent tingles shooting up her spine.
Her long legs dangled in front of him. She’d had a bit to drink-not much, but being carried around like this made her stomach lurch.
“McNeil, you bastard-slow down!” Victoria shrieked, her voice high and desperate. In the stillness of the late-night lobby, her cries echoed, making anyone within earshot blush.
The two night-shift clerks exchanged hushed whispers.
“Isn’t that Mr. Langford’s girlfriend, Ms. Marchand?”
“Is she the same Violet Marchand who’s always in the tabloids? Lucky girl…
Though I heard she’s seriously ill. She doesn’t look it tonight.”
Inside the penthouse suite, McNeil tossed Victoria onto the king-size bed.
Right in front of her, he stripped off his suit jacket, yanked loose his tie, and even his shirt barely survived his impatience.
Victoria’s fingers brushed against a metal cufflink as the man above her revealed a sculpted chest, closing in.
“McNeil, this is Echo City, not Starfall. You can’t just do whatever you want,” she snapped, then bit down hard on his shoulder.
She didn’t hold back-only when she tasted blood did she let go. But above her, he didn’t even flinch.
He pinned her wrists high above her head and stared down at her.
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Blood still stained her lips when McNeil bent to capture her mouth in a fierce kiss.
Victoria clung to the silk sheets, struggling to endure McNeil’s wild, relentless passion.
He was possessive, domineering-every time they met, it was as if he only cared about his own desire, never her feelings.
He only let her go when he’d finally had enough, their lips swollen from the intensity.