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The man swiftly scooped her up, tossing her onto the sofa, then roughly pulling down her jeans. This time, Scarlett offered no resistance. He moved with the predatory grace of a cheetah, wild and powerful.
After what felt like an eternity, Scarlett regained consciousness, utterly drained. But this place was too dangerous; someone could walk in at any moment.
She crawled, gathering her scattered clothes and shoes, trembling as she dressed. The man’s hair was wet, his muscular body glistening with sweat. Scarlett couldn’t help but steal another glance. She picked up her phone, intending to transfer him the money. But she decided it was safer to leave no trace. Instead, she removed her watch, placing it
on his abdomen.
“It’s worth over five million. Thank you.”
His face darkened; he picked up the watch, sitting up, staring at her intensely. Scarlett, fearing he’d ask for more, fled. Five million for one night was more than enough.
To avoid running into Chase and Anya, she didn’t go through the main lobby, opting for the fire escape. Exiting Siren’s Call, she found dawn breaking. Cars and people bustled in the streets, life resuming its daily rhythm.
She took a deep breath, descending the steps towards the parking lot.
“Scarlett!” Chase’s voice cut through the air.
Scarlett froze, slowly turning. She saw Chase emerging from the club, his face grim. Anya, clinging to his arm, walked with an alluring sway. There was a scarf around her neck, her expression was weary but polite.“Miss Taylor, good morning. We meet again. Chase’s eyes were like ice. He blacked out last night and had forgotten he’d called Scarlett.
He asked coldly, “What are you doing here?”
Scarlett laughed bitterly.“Where else should I be?” In Uri’s bed? Was he angry that Uri failed?
Chase’s fury boiled. It was early in the morning, and Scarlett’s hair was disheveled, her expression weary. Clearly, she spent last night at Siren’s Call! He desperately wanted to know what she’d done there, but he couldn’t interrogate her in public. He grabbed her wrist.
“Let’s talk inside.”
His grip was tight, painful. Scarlett winced, struggling.“Let go! You’re hurting me!”
Chase’s expression was menacing.“Don’t move!”
Anya approached, speaking softly.“Chase, don’t be angry. Calm down.” Suddenly, a middle–aged man carrying a bucket of paint charged forward.“Anya! You bitch! Go to hell!” He flung the paint at Anya.
They were standing close; the paint splashed everyone. In a split second, Chase released Scarlett’s wrist, pulling Anya into his arms to protect her. At the same time, Scarlett instinctively shielded her face, turning away. Crimson paint covered Chase’s back, Scarlett’s hair and clothes.
“Aaah!”
“Aaah!”
aah!”
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Scarlett, Anya, and nearby passersby screamed.
Chase roared at the club’s security guards,“Get him!”
Meno
Scarlett recognized the paint–thrower as the man from the parking lot. He tossed the bucket aside, pulling out a boning knife, lunging at Anya.
“You homewrecker! I’m gonna kill you!”
Chase, who had had some martial arts training, pulled Anya behind him, kicking out at the man–directly towards Scarlett.
