At this point, Lewis took his sweet time. He removed his coat and plopped back on the couch, his face lit up like he’d just gotten a shot of adrenaline.
He grabbed a small packet of powdery stuff from the table and said, “Hahaha, even got this good stuff ready.”
Flora’s whole body was slick with cold sweat, which evaporated due to the central air conditioning. Now, her damp skin felt sticky and super uncomfortable.
Lewis threw his head back, downed the entire packet of powder with a swig of booze, and soon started showing signs that something was off.
His eyes blazed, and his excitement hormones went haywire. His gaze locked onto Flora, tracking her every move like a wolf.
Lewis got up, took off his shirt, revealing flabby, wrinkled skin. Flora felt her stomach turn and asked, “What are you trying to do?”
Somewhere in the club, in a security room, a man sat with his legs crossed. A cigarette with a long ash hung from his fingertips, and his narrow eyes stared at the security footage.
Beside him, a man dressed in black spoke with respect but concern, “Mr. Bowles, will this cause trouble?”
Dylan didn’t answer directly. Watching the two on the screen chasing each other, he said, “This old dude, is he really not afraid he’ll bite off more than he can chew?”
Hearing his words, the man in black didn’t dare say more. Dylan was the boss, and if anything happened, he’d handle it.
Flora circled the table, her tousled hair sticking to her neck from struggling, looking lost.
Lewis was already getting impatient, so he flipped the table and lunged at her.
Dylan watched the screen, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He thought, “Flora, I don’t care whether we can land this project or not. You tend to oversimplify things, so, this time, I got to teach you a lesson.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, come on…” Lewis’s arm hooked around Flora’s waist, and he flung her onto the couch.
Despair washed over Flora. As she was lying down, the camera caught her face just in the right angle.
Through the dazzling LCD screen, Dylan saw her expression – humiliation, resistance, and most of all, despair.
The lit cigarette burned to the end without a single puff, searing Dylan’s fingers. Dylan got rid of it, and the cigarette butt fell to the floor.
“Wait… wait,” Flora clenched her collar, knowing that more resistance would only end up in vain. So she asked, “Can I have a drink, please?”
Lewis was ready to pounce and didn’t want to fuss.
“I can’t escape anyway. Let me have a drink, so… you can enjoy yourself more…” She tried to say these words calmly, her eyes showing a weakened defiance.
“Fine.” Seeing this, Lewis backed off and said, “Hurry up…”
Flora slumped down the couch and rolled onto the floor, looking more like an empty shell.
Dylan held his burned fingers in his palm, feeling puzzled and unable to believe Flora would give in so easily.
“Has the stubbornness I first saw in her been worn away that easily? If I’d known she’d be so easy to get… Back at Desire, if I’d been a bit more aggressive, just a little big longer, maybe I would’ve had her then.” This thought made Dylan feel annoyed, and he wanted to take his frustration out on someone.
Deep down, Dylan was very disappointed with Flora. He couldn’t help but frown, wondering why he felt this way since disappointment usually comes after having expectations, which he shouldn’t have had any for her.
The feeling made him uneasy, and just then, the screen froze on the man’s greedy face.
He thought for a moment and finally found the reason of his strange feelings—men are competitive creatures. Initially, he was willing to spend a lot of money to play this game with Flora to win her over. Now, this old guy just got her so easily, and it naturally made him upset.
Flora picked up the wine bottle that had fallen on the floor. As soon as she held it, she thought of her mother.
Her eyes welled up with tears, thinking about how bumpy her life was. The person she thought she’d never see again in this life miraculously appeared just days ago; however, just as she thought happiness was about to arrive, fate strangled her budding hope in such a filthy room. If she died here and today, Monica would be too lonely to live in this world.
Flora’s grip slackened a bit. She had turned her back, so Lewis couldn’t catch what she was doing with the bottle, but he egged her on, impatiently, “C’mon… I can’t wait any longer.”
A hand grazed her, and Flora jumped out of her skin. Staring at the gross mug behind her, her thoughts went haywire.
Her earlier ponderings flew out the window. By the time she snapped into action, the wine bottle had already swung. It nailed Lewis square on his chrome dome, sending blood flying.
“Ah!” Lewis squealed like a pig getting the ax, making the surveillance screen shake.
“Dang it, blood… blood…” Lewis touched his forehead and his eyes nearly popped out of his head, “I’ll kill you!”
Another whopper of a hit landed, leaving Lewis seeing stars. The blood that splattered on Flora’s face almost made her lose what she had eaten just now.
Lewis’s swearing lost steam, as he had never seen anything like this.
Spotting him lunge at her again, Flora clutched the wine bottle with both hands, her only line of defense, and landed another solid whack.
“Mr. Bowles, this could go south real quick!” Dylan’s underling anxiously eyeballed the screen as he said this.
All of a sudden, the chair near him was shoved aside, and Dylan sprang up, bolting out of the room.
This scene was way beyond what he’d anticipated. He had no clue that Flora could go from zero to sixty when ticked off.
As Dylan stormed into the private room, a cocktail of booze and blood greeted him. The place was trashed, and he kicked stuff out of his way as he made a beeline for Flora, who was gearing up for another swing with the wine bottle.
Her wrist tensed, feeling someone stop her from behind, but she tried to keep going.
Lewis sprawled on the couch, bloodied and bruised, his eyes still darting around.
Dylan yanked the wine bottle from her grasp and hugged Flora from behind, whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s all good now.”
His uncommon gentleness soothed her, and Flora’s rigid body gradually melted in his arms. The second her strength gave out, she crumbled.
“Filthy… witch…” Lewis slurred through half-lidded eyes, “I won’t… let you off the hook, I… I’ll kill you, I’ll tell…”
Dylan’s gaze went icy, and his eyes turned frosty. He hoisted his leg and booted the man’s face, knocking him out cold before he could even groan.
Flora leaned against Dylan’s chest.
Her hands clung to his arms like a lifeline, her neat nails digging into his flesh through his shirt.
“Let’s split,” he said, guiding Flora toward the door. This time, it was too much for her. Even though she’d worked at a place like Desire before, she’d never witnessed a scene like this.
A wave of guilt washed over Dylan. As they exited the club, they bumped into Justin and Buffay, who had left earlier.
Seeing Flora’s bloodied face and hands, the two were shocked, unsure where she was hurt.
Dylan tightened his hold on Flora’s hand and tried to make a getaway with her.
“Justin…” Flora finally snapped out of it, and the fear in her heart faded upon seeing him. Sensing Dylan’s close grip, she fought to break free.
“Back off!” Justin stepped up and yelled at Dylan, the two men facing off like oil and water that could never blend.
Dylan clung to Flora with all his might, but she was adamant about pushing him away, “Let me go…”
“Didn’t you hear her?” Justin’s brown eyes brimmed with rage, ready to blow a fuse any second.
Dylan knew that even if he insisted, he wouldn’t be able to whisk Flora away today.
He had lost to a heart she had already given up on. He loosened his grip, not angry, but instead lowering his voice to murmur in Flora’s ear, “You sure you want to go with him?”
His words oozed threatening implications, but Flora wasn’t biting.
She shoved Dylan off, taking just a few steps before Justin pulled her into a hug.
“Fine,” Dylan said with a grin, watching the tender scene play out. Flora couldn’t bring herself to look at him, feeling his smile was laced with danger and restraint. “Sweetheart,” Dylan taunted, “I bet you’ll come crawling back to me.”
